want no more strangers snoopin' 'round this neighborhood,
an' we don't aim t' have 'em neither. We'uns 'low we can take care
o' ourselves, without ary hep from th' dad burned government."

The shepherd tried to speak, but Gibbs, with an oath, roared,
"Shut up, I tell you. Shut up. I've been a watchin', an' I know
what I know. Fix that there rope, boys, an we'll get through, an'
mosey 'long out o' here. Ain't no use to palaver, nohow."

A rope was thrown over a limb above their heads, and a man
approached the shepherd with the noose. Young Matt struggled
desperately. With an evil grin, Gibbs said, "Don't you worry,
sonny; you're a goin', too." And at his signal another rope was
fixed, and the noose placed over the young man's head. The men
took their places, awaiting the word from their leader.

The shepherd spoke softly to his companion, "Thank you, my boy."
The giant began another desperate struggle.

Wash Gibbs, raising his hand, opened his lips to give the signal.
But no word came. The brutal jaw dropped. The ruffian's eyes
fairly started from his head, while the men who held the ropes,
stood as if turned to stone, as a long wailing cry came from the
dark shadows under the bluff. There was a moment of death-like
silence. Then another awful, sobbing groan, rising into a blood
curdling scream, came from down the road, and, from the direction
of the ruined cabin, advanced a ghostly figure. Through the deep
shadows and the misty light, it seemed to float toward them,
moaning and sobbing as it came.

A shuddering gasp of horror burst from the frightened crew under
the tree. Then, at a louder wail from the approaching apparition,
they broke and ran. Like wild men they leaped for their horses,
and, flinging themselves into their saddles, fled in every
direction.

Young Matt and the shepherd sank upon the ground in helpless
amazement.

As the outlaws fled, the spectre paused. Then it started onward
toward the two men. Again it hesitated. For a moment it remained
motionless, then turned and vanished, just as Jim Lane came flying
out of the timber, into the bright light of the little clearing.

CHAPTER XVIII.

LEARNING TO BE A LADY.

The books sent for by Mr. Howitt came a few days after the
adventure at the ranch, and Sammy, with all the intensity of her
nature, plunged at once into the work mapped out for her by the
shepherd.

All through the long summer and autumn, the girl spent hours with
her t