Jim waited at the gate until the sound of the horse’s feet had died away in the night.  Then he returned to the cabin.  But even as he walked toward the house, a dark figure arose from a clump of bushes within a few feet of the spot where Jim and the horseman had met.  The figure slipped noiselessly away into the forest.

The next morning Jim carefully groomed and saddled the brown pony for Sammy, then, leading his own horse ready for the road, he came to the cabin door.  “Going now, Daddy?” said the girl, coming for the good-by kiss.

“My girl, my girl,” whispered the man, as he took her in his arms.

Sammy was frightened at the sight of his face, so strange and white.  “Why Daddy, Daddy Jim, what is the matter?”

“Nothin’, girl, nothin’.  Only—­only you’re so like your mother, girl.  She—­she used to come just this way when I’d be leavin’.  You’re sure like her, and—­and I’m glad.  I’m glad you’re like the old folks, too.  Remember now, stay at Mandy’s until to-morrow evenin’.  Kiss me again, honey.  Good-by.”

He mounted hurriedly and rode away at a brisk gallop.  Pulling up a moment at the edge of the timber, he turned in the saddle to wave his hand to the girl in the cabin door.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A ride in the night.

Sammy arrived at the Ford homestead in time for dinner, and was joyfully received by her friend, Mandy.  But early in the afternoon, their pleasure was marred by a messenger from Long Creek on the other side of the river.  Mrs. Ford’s sister was very ill, and Mrs. Ford and Mandy must go at once.

“But Sammy can’t stay here alone,” protested the good woman.  “Mandy, you’ll just have to stay.”

“Indeed, she shall not,” declared their guest.  “I can ride up Jake Creek to the Forks and stay all night at Uncle Ike’s.  Brownie will make it easily in time for supper.  You just get your things on and start right away.”

“You’d better hurry; too,” put in Mr. Ford.  “There’s a storm comin’ ‘fore long, an’ we got t’ git across th’ river ’fore hit strikes.  I’ll be here with th’ horses by the time you get your bonnets on.”  He hurried away to the barn for his team, while the women with Sammy’s assistance made their simple preparation.

As mother Ford climbed into the big wagon, she said to Sammy, “Hit’s an awful lonely ol’ trip fer you, child; an’ you must start right away, so’s t’ be sure t’ get there ’fore hit gets plumb dark,” while Mr. Ford added, as he started the team, “Your pony’s ready saddled, an’ if you’ll hurry along, you can jest ’bout make hit.  Don’t get catched on Jakey in a big rain whatever you do.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” returned the girl, “Brownie and I could find the way in the dark.”

But when her friends were gone, Sammy, womanlike, busied herself with setting the disordered house aright before she started on her journey.  Watching the clouds, she told herself that there was plenty of time for her to reach the Postoffice before the storm.  It might not come that way at all, in fact.