Reaching the edge of the clearing, they involuntarily checked their horses, stopping just within the shadow of the timber.  Here the sound of the squeaking fiddle, the shouting caller, the stamping feet, and the swinging dancers came with full force; and, through the open door and windows of the log house, they could see the wheeling, swaying figures of coatless men and calico gowned women, while the light, streaming out, opened long lanes in the dusk.  About them in the forest’s edge, standing in groups under the trees, were the shadowy forms of saddle horses and mules, tied by their bridle reins to the lower branches; and nearer to the cabin, two or three teams, tied to the rail-fence, stood hitched to big wagons in which were splint-bottom chairs for extra seats.

During the evening, the men tried in their rough, good natured way, to joke Young Matt about taking advantage of Ollie Stewart’s absence, but they very soon learned that, while the big fellow was ready to enter heartily into all the fun of the occasion, he would not receive as a jest any allusion to his relation to the girl, whom he had escorted to the party.  Sammy, too, when her big companion was not near, suffered from the crude wit of her friends.

“Ollie Stewart don’t own me yet,” she declared with a toss of the head, when someone threatened to write her absent lover.

“No,” replied one of her tormentors, “but you ain’t aimin’ to miss your chance o’ goin’ t’ th’ city t’ live with them big-bugs.”

In the laugh that followed, Sammy was claimed by a tall woodsman for the next dance, and escaped to take her place on the floor.

“Well, Ollie’ll sure make a good man for her,” remarked another joker; “if he don’t walk th’ chalk, she can take him ’cross her knee an’ wallop him.”

“She’ll surely marry him, alright,” said the first, “’cause he’s got th’ money, but she’s goin’ t’ have a heap o’ fun makin’ Young Matt play th’ fool before she leaves th’ woods.  He ain’t took his eyes off her t’night.  Everybody’s laughin’ at him.”

“I notice they take mighty good care t’ laugh behind his back,” flashed little black-eyed Annie Brooke from the Cove neighborhood.

Young Matt, who had been dancing with Mandy Ford, came up behind the group just in time to hear their remarks.  Two or three who saw him within hearing tried to warn the speakers, but while everybody around them saw the situation, the two men caught the frantic signals of their friends too late.  The music suddenly stopped.  The dancers were still.  By instinct every eye in the room was fixed upon the little group, as the jokers turned to face the object of their jests.

The big mountaineer took one long step toward the two who had spoken, his brow dark with rage, his huge fists clenched.  But, even as his powerful muscles contracted for the expected blow, the giant came to a dead stop.  Slowly his arm relaxed.  His hand dropped to his side.  Then, turning deliberately, he walked to the door, the silent crowd parting to give him way.