ammy caught the odor of tobacco, and a
moment later Jim heard a light, quick step on the floor behind
him. Then two arms went around his neck; "What is it, Daddy? What
is it? Why don't you drive that man away?"

"Did you hear us talkin'?" asked the man, an anxious note in his
voice.

"I heard you talkin' to him about pesterin' me, but after that,
you didn't talk so loud. What is the matter, Daddy, that he could
stay and be so thick with you after the things you said? I was
sure he'd make you kill him."

Jim laughed softly; "You're just like your mother, girl. Just like
her, with the old blood a backin' you up." Then he asked a number
of questions about Mr. Howitt, and her visit to the ranch that
evening.

As Sammy told him of her ambition to fit herself for the place
that would be hers, when she married, and repeating the things
that Mr. Howitt had told her, explained how the shepherd had
promised to help, Jim expressed his satisfaction and delight. "I
knowed you was a studyin' about something, girl," he said, "but I
didn't say nothin', 'cause I 'lowed you'd tell me when you got
ready."

"I didn't want to say nothing 'til I was sure, you see," replied
the daughter. "I aimed to tell you as soon as I got home to-night,
but Wash Gibbs didn't give me no chance."

The man held her close "Dad Howitt sure puts the thing just right,
Sammy. It'll be old times come back, when you're a lady in your
own house with all your fine friends around; and you'll do it,
girl; you sure will. Don't never be afraid to bank on the old
blood. It'll see you through." Then his voice broke; "You won't
never be learned away from your old Daddy, will you, honey? Will
you always stand by Daddy, like you do now? Will you let me and
Young Matt slip 'round once in a while, just to look at, you, all
so fine?"

"Daddy Jim, if you don't--hush--I'll--I'll--" she hid her face on
his shoulder.

"There, there, honey; I was only funnin'. You'll always be my
Sammy; the only boy I ever had. You just naturally couldn't be
nothin' else."

Long after his daughter had gone to her room and to her bed, the
mountaineer sat in the doorway, looking into the dark. He heard
the short bark of a fox in the brush back of the stable; and the
wild cry of a catamount from a cliff farther down the mountain was
answered by another from the timber below the spring. He saw the
great hills heaving their dark forms into the sky, and in his soul
he felt the spirit of the