Plutina's treatment of Hodges had had a curious effect on that lawless character. The humiliation to which he had been subjected had indeed filled him with vicious rage, but, too, it had inflamed his passion for the girl. Her scorn and her fierce mastery of him had made her more than ever desirable. He was fascinated by the strength and courage she had displayed. Brutal and evil as he was, Hodges was strong physically, and, in his own wicked way, strong of will. Because he was stronger than his fellows, he ruled them. Strength was, in fact, the one thing that he could admire. The revelation of it in Plutina at once set her apart from all other women, and gave to his craving for her a clumsy sort of veneration. But that veneration was strangely modified by resolve to be avenged for the insult she had put upon him. Thus, it had come about that he planned to satisfy his varied feelings toward the girl by the abduction. He swore to master her, to change her insolence to fawning submission, to abject fondness.

Hodges wasted no time. His sluggish brain began its scheming the moment a turn in the trail hid him from view, after the ignominious march from the Holloman Gate. At sunrise, next morning, he was lurking on the borders of the Siddon clearing, spying on the movements of the family. He even witnessed Plutina's confession to her grandfather, of which he guessed the purport, and at which he cursed vilely beneath his breath. When Plutina set forth for the Cherry Lane post-office, he followed, slinking through the forest at a safe distance from the trail. He was not quite certain as to where or when he should attack the girl, but he meant to seize the first favorable opportunity, whether it came sooner or later. It came, as a matter of fact, very soon, and it was given by Plutina herself.