Jack Walton feared physical punishment and could never be induced to indulge in fisticuffs. His companions branded him as a coward. But endurance comes to an end and one day, when tormented to the breaking point by a Mexican, Jack’s anger flared forth and drawing his gun (of which he was not afraid) he fired, killing the Mexican instantly. Then the very men who had driven him to it, formed the posse that was to hunt him down. They hurried to the mountains where Jack had sought refuge. High up in the mountains, the hunted man eluded them, until the pangs of hunger drove him to seek some human habitation. Approaching the sheriff’s home, he sees food in preparation. He enters and holding the frightened woman at the point of his gun, compels her to set before him the repast she had prepared for her husband. In the next room, her baby, ill and in high fever, is sleeping fitfully. Even his unaccustomed eyes tell him that the child is dangerously ill. He volunteers to go for the doctor and hurries from the house. Around the corner of one of the outbuildings, one of the posse is waiting. As Jack dashes around the corner, the man fires, wounding him severely. Jack stumbles on and soon reaches the doctor. He urges the doctor to hurry to the bedside of the sick child and then hurries to the mountain fastnesses. The doctor by hard work soon has the child resting quietly. When the sheriff returns from his fruitless search, he learns that his child was saved by the arrival of a stranger. Asking his wife to describe the man, she tells him that the stranger left a note for him. He opens and reads: “If you still think I’m a coward, come up to Sage Ridge and see.” But the sheriff never found it convenient to follow the coward further.