girl; you sure will. Don't never be afraid to bank on the old
blood. It'll see you through." Then his voice broke; "You won't
never be learned away from your old Daddy, will you, honey? Will
you always stand by Daddy, like you do now? Will you let me and
Young Matt slip 'round once in a while, just to look at, you, all
so fine?"

"Daddy Jim, if you don't--hush--I'll--I'll--" she hid her face on
his shoulder.

"There, there, honey; I was only funnin'. You'll always be my
Sammy; the only boy I ever had. You just naturally couldn't be
nothin' else."

Long after his daughter had gone to her room and to her bed, the
mountaineer sat in the doorway, looking into the dark. He heard
the short bark of a fox in the brush back of the stable; and the
wild cry of a catamount from a cliff farther down the mountain was
answered by another from the timber below the spring. He saw the
great hills heaving their dark forms into the sky, and in his soul
he felt the spirit of the wilderness and the mystery of the hour.
At last he went into the house to close and bar the door.

Away down in Mutton Hollow a dog barked, and high up on Old Dewey
near Sammy's Lookout, a spot of light showed for a moment, then
vanished.