Sammy had reached the edge of the open ground on the hill side,
but once on the higher level, clear of the trees, the strong glow
of the western sky still lighted the way. From here it was not far
to the girl's home, and, as she climbed a spur of Dewey, Sammy saw
the cabin, and heard distinctly the sweet strain's of her father's
violin. On top of the rise, the young woman paused a moment to
enjoy the beauties of the evening, which seemed to come to her
with a new meaning that night. As she stood there, her strong
young figure was clearly outlined against the sky to the man who
was riding swiftly along the road over which she had just passed.

Sammy turned when she heard the quick beating of the mule's feet;
then, recognizing the huge form of the horseman, as he came out of
the woods into the light, she started quickly away towards her
home; but the mule and its rider were soon beside her.

"Howdy, Sammy." Gibbs leaped from the saddle, and, with the bridle
rein over his arm, came close to the girl. "Fine evening for a
walk."

"Howdy," returned the young woman, coolly, quickening her pace.

"You needn't t' be in such a powerful hurry," growled Wash. "If
you've got time t' talk t' that old cuss at th' ranch, you sure
got time t' talk t' me."

Sammy turned angrily. "You'd better get back on your mule, and go
about your business, Wash Gibbs. When I want you to walk with me,
I'll let you know."