He realized the truth of all Hughes said, and yet had to fight fiercely his inclination to hasten to her rescue.

The very thought of her alone in those ruthless hands was torture.

There was no selfishness in the man's heart, no hope of winning this girl for himself, yet he knew now that he loved her; that for him she was the one woman in all the world.

Her face was in his memory; the very soughing of the wind seemed her voice calling him.
But the real man in him--the plainsman instinct--conquered the impetuosity of the lover.

There must be no mistake made--no rash, hopeless effort.