It's said "There's no true love without jealousy," yet Henry Taber overstepped the mark in this direction, and, although Tess was the most devoted of wives. Henry saw in every man upon which her glance fell a possible rival. Jack Wilson, the amateur photographer, stopped at their cabin for a glass of water, and merely because Tess hid him a pleasant good day, Henry was vexed. Indeed, that evening when Jack again chanced that way and showed the little wife a few prints of her estate. Henry displayed his displeasure in no uncertain manner, and coax as she would, he refused to come in to supper, but instead sank wearily down on a bench. As he lay there, he beheld his wife come to the door, look cautiously about, and steal softly around the house. Instantly he sprang up and crept after her, until she came to the Big Rock, where he beheld her clasped in the arms of Jack Wilson. The unhappy husband raised his gun and fired, but it was Tess who dropped. So grasping the photographer by the throat he slowly but surely forced him over the cliff. Turning, he found that Tess had staggered off and from his position on the rock he could see her notifying the woodsmen below. Perhaps after all, Jack had been only wounded, but as he climbed down, his worst fears were realized, and he had scarcely time to hide behind the rocks when Tess and the woodsmen appeared. Then commenced a chase up the mountain. At last he reached the top and laid down to rest. Suddenly the woodsmen's heads appeared. Stealthily they crept upon him, while he lay as one petrified, unable to move hand or foot, until the sheriff grasped him firmly by the shoulder. But, as Henry started up, he looked into the pleading face of Tess, again imploring him to come to supper, just as Jack Wilson appeared to get the camera he had forgotten. The man looked around. There stood his cabin. It was only a dream. Gratefully he clasped his wife in his arms, grasped the photographer's hand, insisting upon his sharing their humble evening meal.