got to have room. Then there's the folks yonder." He turned his
face toward the log house, just showing through the trees. "You
know how it is, me bein' the only one left, and Dad gettin' old.
No, I don't guess you need to count on me bein' more than I am."

Then suddenly he wheeled about and looked from one face to the
other; and there was a faint hint of defiance in his voice, as he
finished; "I got an idea, too, that the backwoods needs men same
as the cities. I don't see how there ever could BE a city even, if
it wasn't for the men what cleared the brush. Somebody's got to
lick Wash Gibbs some day, or there just naturally won't be no
decent livin' in the neighborhood ever."

He held up his big hand to the man on the horse; "Good-by, and
good luck to you, Ollie." The horses turned down the Old Trail and
with their riders, passed from sight.

That night Sammy Lane said farewell to her lover, and, with many
promises for the future, Ollie rode away to his cabin home, to
leave the next morning for that world that lies so far--so far
away from the world of Young Matt and his friends, the world that
is so easy to get into after all, and so impossible to get out of
ever.





CHAPTER XII.