"There it is!"

It was as comfortably placed a house as Riley Sinclair had ever seen.
The mountain came down out of the sky in ragged, uneven steps. Here it
dipped away into a lap of quite level ground. A stream of spring water
flashed across that little tableland, dark in the shadow of the big
trees, silver in the sunlight. At the back of the natural clearing was
the cabin, built solidly of logs. Wood, water, and commanding position
for defense! Riley Sinclair ran his eye appreciatively over these
advantages.

"My guns, I'd forgot Sally!" exclaimed the massive Buck Mason.

"Is that her?" asked Riley Sinclair.

A woman had come out of the shadow of a tree and stood over the edge of
the stream, a bucket in her hand. At that distance it was quite
impossible to make out her features, although Riley Sinclair found
himself squinting and peering to make them out. She had on something
white over her head and neck, and her dress was the faded blue of old
gingham. Then the wind struck her dress, and it seemed to lift the girl
in its current.

"I'd forgot Sally Bent!"

"What difference does she make?" asked Riley.

"You don't know her, stranger."