Jim answered uneasily, “I don’t know, girl. I reckon he’ll be around again after a time.” There was a pause for a little while; then Sammy, with her arms still about his neck, said, “Daddy, I’m going to stay in the hills with you now. I am going to send Ollie away to-morrow, because as you say, he isn’t our kind. Daddy, Wash Gibbs is not our kind either, is he?” “You don’t understand, girl, and I can’t tell you now. It all started way back when you was a little trick.” The young woman answered very gently, “Yes, I know. You have told me that often. But, Daddy, what will—what will our friends think, if you keep on with Wash Gibbs now, after what happened at the mill to-day? Young Matt fought Gibbs because he insulted me and was going to hurt me. You say yourself that it will be war between them now? Will you side with Wash? And if you do, won’t it look like there was just a little, tiny streak of yellow in us?” This side of the situation had not struck Jim at first. He got up and walked the floor, while the girl, standing quietly by the fireplace, watched him, a proud, fond light in her eyes. Sammy did not know what the bond between her father and the big ruffian was, but she knew that it was not a light one. Now that the issue was fairly defined, she felt confident that, whatever the cost, the break would be made. But at this time it was well that she did not know how great the cost of breaking the bond between the two men would be. Jim stopped before his daughter, and, placing a hand upon each shoulder, said, “Tell me, girl; are you so powerful anxious to have me and Young Matt stay good friends like we’ve always been?” “I—I am afraid I am, Daddy.” And then, a rare smile came into the dark face of Jim Lane. He kissed the girl and said, “I’ll do it, honey. I ain’t afraid to, now.” CHAPTER XXX. SAMMY GRADUATES. The next day when young Stewart came, the books were all back on the shelf in the main room of the cabin, and Sammy, dressed in a fresh gown of simple goods and fashion, with her hair arranged carefully, as she had worn it the last two months before Ollie’s coming, sat at the window reading. The man was surprised and a little embarrassed. “Why, what have you been doing to yourself?” he exclaimed. “I have not been doing anything to myself. I have only done some things to my clothes and hair,” returned the girl. Then he saw the books. “Why, where did these come from?” He crossed the room to examine the volumes. “Do you—do you read all these?” “The shepherd has been helping me,” she explained. “Oh, yes. I understood that you were studying with him.” He looked at her curiously, as though they were meeting for the first time. Then, as she talked of her studies, his embarrassment deepened, for he found himself foundering hopelessly before this clear-eyed, clear-brained backwoods girl.