Two men playing cards, the argument, flash of a revolver, and one lay dead. The murderer homeward fled, hurried his little girl baby into a west-bound train and was heard of no more. The years passed and boyish Jim Conway grew to manhood with the sole purpose of seeking out his father’s murderer to deal justice to him. He went West and was one day, lost in the mountains. He called for help and help came in the form of a sweet-faced woman who led him to her home. He spent the following weeks with her and the aged father, learned to love the mountain nymph for her beauty of soul and fair face. One day she asked him his reasons for being in the hill country, and he, lover-like confided his secret. Behind the door, sat the white-haired father. He rose, shook himself like a leaf as he invited the young man into the house. And there he confessed the deed, baring his chest for the expected blow. But none fell for love had sweetened the poison of his thought.