eed, I am not; I am very much in earnest." Then, taking a cob
pipe from his pocket, he added, politely, "May I smoke?"

"Heh? O law! yes. What you ask me for?" She watched him curiously,
as he filled and lighted the pipe. "I reckon that's because you
was raised in the city," he added slowly; "is that the way folks
do there?"

"Folks smoke here, sometimes, do they not?" he returned between
puffs.

"I don't mean that. Course they smoke and chew, too. And the women
dip snuff, some of 'em. Aunt Mollie Matthews don't, though, and I
ain't never goin' to, 'cause she don't. But nobody don't ask
nobody else if they can. They just go ahead. That ain't the only
way you're different from us, though," she continued, looking at
Mr. Howitt, with that wide questioning gaze. "You're different in
a heap o' ways. 'Tain't that you wear different clothes, for you
don't, no more. Nor, 'taint that you act like you were any
better'n us. I don't know what it is, but it's somethin'. Take
your stayin' here in Mutton Hollow, now; honest, Dad, ain't you
afear'd to stay here all alone at nights?"

"Afraid? afraid of what?" he looked at her curiously.

"Hants," said the girl, lowering her voice; "down there." She
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,