public gatherings.

So the scholar from the world beyond the ridges slipped quietly
into the life of the mountain folk, and took firm root in their
affections. And in his face, so "Preachin' Bill" said, was the
look of one who had "done fought his fight to a finish, an' war
too dead beat t' even be glad it war all over."

Between the giant Mr. Matthews and his shepherd, the friendship,
begun that night, grew always stronger. In spite of the difference
in education and training, they found much in common. Some bond of
fellowship, unknown to the mountaineer, at least, drew them close,
and the two men spent many evenings upon the front porch of the
log house in quiet talk, while the shadows crept over the valley
below; and the light went from the sky back of the clump of pines.

From the first Young Matt was strongly drawn to the stranger, who
was to have such influence over his life, and Pete--Pete said that
"God lived with Dad Howitt in Mutton Hollow."

Pete somehow knew a great deal about God these days. A strange
comradeship had come to be between the thoughtful gentleman, who
cared for the sheep, and the ignorant, sorely afflicted, and
nameless backwoods boy. The two were always together, out on the
hillside and in the little glens and valleys, during the day with
the sheep, or at the ranch in the Hollow, when the flock was
safely folded and the night slipped quietly over the timbered
ridges. Mr. Howitt had fixed a bunk in his cabin for the boy, so
that he could come and go at will. Often the shepherd awoke in the
morning to find that some time during the night his strange friend