The young man gently raised the little head that nestled so snugly on his breast. Virginia understood the movement, and anticipated the wish of her lover. With a shy smile upon her face, and a coy look in her dark-brown eyes, she gave her lips up to her lover’s caress.
The lips of the lovers met in a long, lingering kiss—the first proof of love, so dear to all hearts. Lip to lip and soul to soul.
Virginia Treveling gave herself to Harvey Winthrop.
A moment only the lovers remained in each other’s arms.
Then the sharp crack of a rifle broke the stillness of the summer air.
With a groan of anguish Winthrop reeled from the fond embrace of the young girl. He clutched wildly at the air, and then fell heavily on his side upon the rocky surface.
With a shriek of terror Virginia knelt by the side of her lover.
The shriek of the young girl was answered by the shrill war-whoop of the Indian.
Forth from their covert in the thicket sprung two painted braves, and rushed with eager haste toward the young girl.
Virginia did not try to fly. Her senses were chilled to numbness by the fall of the man who but a moment before had pressed the warm love-kiss upon her willing lips.