pointed toward the old ruined cabin under the bluff. "SHE'S sure
been seen there. What if HE was to come, too? Don't you believe in
hants?"

The shepherd's face was troubled, as he answered, "I don't know,
Sammy. I scarcely know what I believe. Some marvelous experiences
are related by apparently reliable authorities; but I have always
said that I could not accept the belief. I--I am not so sure now.
After all, the unseen world is not so very far away. Strange
forces, of which we know nothing, are about us everywhere. I dare
not say that I do not believe."

"But you ain't scared?"

"Why should I fear?"

Sammy shook her head. "Ain't 'nother man or woman in the whole
country would dast spend the night here, Dad; except Pete, of
course. Not even Young Matt, nor my Daddy would do it; and I don't
guess they're afraid of anything--anything that's alive, I mean.
You're sure different, Dad; plumb different. I reckon it must be
the city that does it. And that's what I've come to see you about
this evenin'. You see Ollie's been a tellin' me a lot about folks
and things way over there." She waived her hand toward the ridges
that shut in the Hollow. "And Ollie he's changed a heap himself
since he went there to live. I got a letter to-day, and, when I
went home, I hunted up the first one he wrote, and I can tell
there's a right smart difference already. You know all about Ollie
and me goin' to get married, I reckon?"