THE SHEPHERD OF THE HILLS
before. You're such a good Daddy to me, I never could bear to see you with that bad, bad man." She was behind his chair now, and, stooping, laid her fresh young cheek against the swarthy, furrowed face.
The man sat like a grim, stone image, his eyes fixed on the gun resting on his knees. Not until she lifted her head to stand erect behind his chair, with a hand on each shoulder, did he find words. "Girl, there's just one thing I've got to know for sure before I go to-morrow. I reckon I'm right, but somehow a man can't never tell about a woman in such things. Will you tell your Daddy, Sammy?"
"Tell what, Daddy Jim?" the girl asked, her hands stealing up to caress her father's face.
"What answer will you give to Young Matt when he asks you what Ollie did?"
"But why must you know that before you go to-morrow?"
"’Cause I want to be plumb sure I ain't makin' no mistake in sidin' with the boy in this here trouble."
"You couldn't make a mistake in doing that, Daddy, no matter whether I—no matter what—but perhaps Matt will not ask me what Ollie did."
Just a ray of humor touched the dark face. "I ain't makin' no mistake there. I know what the man will do." He laid the gun upon the table, andreach-
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