She told him then of the encounter with Wash Gibbs and his friend at the mill, together with the story that Pete had illustrated so vividly at the Lookout.  “And so, Daddy,” she finished; “I know now what I shall do.  He will come to-morrow afternoon to say good-by, and then he will go away again back to the city and his fine friends for good.  And I’ll stay and take care of my Daddy Jim.  It isn’t that he is a bad man like Wash Gibbs.  He couldn’t be a bad man like that; he isn’t big enough.  And that’s just it.  He is too little—­body, soul and spirit—­he is too little.  He will do well in the world; perhaps he will even do big things.  But I heard dear old Preachin’ Bill say once, that ’some fellers can do mighty big things in a durned little way.’  So he is going back to the city, and I am going to stay in the hills.”

Jim took no pains to hide his delight.  “I knowed it, girl.  I knowed it.  Bank on the old blood every time.  There ain’t a drop of yeller in it; not a drop, Sammy.  Ollie ain’t to say bad, but he ain’t just our kind.  Lord!  But I’d like to o’ seen Young Matt a givin’ it to Wash Gibbs!” He threw back his head and roared with delight.  “Just wait ’till I see Wash.  I’ll ask him if he thinks Young Matt would need a pry for to lift that mill engine with, now.”  Then all of a sudden the laugh died out, and the man’s dark face was serious, as he said, slowly, “The boy’ll have to watch him, though.  It’ll sure be war from this on; the worst kind of war.”

“Daddy, what do you think Wash would have done to me, if Young Matt had not been there?”

That metallic ring was in Jim’s voice, now, as he replied, “Wash Gibbs ought to knowed better than to done that.  But it was a blessin’ Young Matt was there, wasn’t it?  He’d take care of you anywhere.  I wouldn’t never be afraid for you with him.”

The girl hid her face on her father’s shoulder, as she said, “Daddy, will Wash Gibbs come here any more now?  It seems to me he wouldn’t dare meet you after this.”

Jim answered uneasily, “I don’t know, girl.  I reckon he’ll be around again after a time.”

There was a pause for a little while; then Sammy, with her arms still about his neck, said, “Daddy, I’m going to stay in the hills with you now.  I am going to send Ollie away to-morrow, because as you say, he isn’t our kind.  Daddy, Wash Gibbs is not our kind either, is he?”

“You don’t understand, girl, and I can’t tell you now.  It all started way back when you was a little trick.”

The young woman answered very gently, “Yes, I know.  You have told me that often.  But, Daddy, what will—­what will our friends think, if you keep on with Wash Gibbs now, after what happened at the mill to-day?  Young Matt fought Gibbs because he insulted me and was going to hurt me.  You say yourself that it will be war between them now?  Will you side with Wash?  And if you do, won’t it look like there was just a little, tiny streak of yellow in us?”