The big man looked at the shepherd hard before he answered, in a half-frightened, half-bullying tone, “I seed something in th’ road yonder, an’ hit disappeared right by th’ old shack under th’ bluffs.”  He twisted around in his saddle again, facing the cliff with its dense shadows and dim twilight forms, as he muttered, “If I was only right sure, I—­” Then swinging back he leaned toward the man on the ground; “Look a here, Mister.  There’s them that ‘lows there’s things in this here Holler t’ be afeared of, an’ I reckon hit’s so.  There’s sure been hell t’ pay at that there cabin down yonder.  I ain’t a sayin’ what hit was I seed, but if hit war anywhere else, I’d a said hit was a man; but if hit was a man, I don’t know why you didn’t see him when he come past; er else you’re a lyin’.  I jest want t’ tell you, you’re right smart of a stranger in these here parts, even if you have bean a workin’ for Ol’ Matt all summer.  You’re too blame careful ‘bout talkin’ ’bout yourself, or tellin’ whar you come from, t’ suit some folks.  Some strangers are alright, an’ again some ain’t.  But we don’t aim t’ have nobody in this here neighborhood what jumps into th’ brush when they see an honest man a comin’.”

As he finished speaking, Gibbs straightened himself in the saddle, and before Mr. Howitt could reply, the dun mule, at a touch of the spur, had dashed away up the road in the direction taken by Sammy Lane.

It was quite dark in the heavy timber of the Hollow by the time Sammy had reached the edge of the open ground on the hill side, but once on the higher level, clear of the trees, the strong glow of the western sky still lighted the way.  From here it was not far to the girl’s home, and, as she climbed a spur of Dewey, Sammy saw the cabin, and heard distinctly the sweet strain’s of her father’s violin.  On top of the rise, the young woman paused a moment to enjoy the beauties of the evening, which seemed to come to her with a new meaning that night.  As she stood there, her strong young figure was clearly outlined against the sky to the man who was riding swiftly along the road over which she had just passed.

Sammy turned when she heard the quick beating of the mule’s feet; then, recognizing the huge form of the horseman, as he came out of the woods into the light, she started quickly away towards her home; but the mule and its rider were soon beside her.

“Howdy, Sammy.”  Gibbs leaped from the saddle, and, with the bridle rein over his arm, came close to the girl.  “Fine evening for a walk.”

“Howdy,” returned the young woman, coolly, quickening her pace.

“You needn’t t’ be in such a powerful hurry,” growled Wash.  “If you’ve got time t’ talk t’ that old cuss at th’ ranch, you sure got time t’ talk t’ me.”

Sammy turned angrily.  “You’d better get back on your mule, and go about your business, Wash Gibbs.  When I want you to walk with me, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s alright, honey,” exclaimed the other insolently.  “I’m a goin’ your way just th’ same; an’ we’ll mosey ’long t’gether.  I was a goin’ home, but I’ve got business with your paw now.”