s alright, anyway," said the young man; "nothin' in the
woods ever hurts Pete. He's safer there than he would be here, and
I'm glad he's gone."

The shepherd did not reply. He seemed not to hear, but stood as
though fascinated by the scene. He still could not grasp the truth
of the situation, but the beauty of the hour moved him deeply.
"What a marvelous, what a wonderful sight!" he said at last in a
low tone. "I do not wonder the boy loves to roam the hills a night
like this. Look, Grant! See how soft the moonlight falls on that
patch of grass this side of the old tree yonder, and how black the
shadow is under that bush, like the mouth of a cave, a witch's
cave. I am sure there are ghosts and goblins in there, with
fairies and gnomes, and perhaps a dragon or two. And see, lad, how
the great hills rise into the sky. How grand, how beautiful the
world is! It is good to live, Matt, though life be sometimes hard,
still--still it is good to live."

At the old scholar's words and manner, the mountaineer, too,
forgot for a moment the thing that had brought him there, and a
look of awe and wonder came over his rugged features, as the
shepherd, with his face turned upward and his deep voice full of
emotion, repeated, "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the
firmament showeth his handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and
night unto night showeth knowledge."

The owl left his place in the old tree and flew across the moonlit
clearing into the deeper gloom of the woods. Inside the cabin the
dog barked, and through the still night, from down the valley,
where the ranch trail crosses the creek, came the rattle of
horses' feet on the rocky floor of the little stream, and the
faint sound of voices. Young Matt started, and again the man of
the wilderness was master of the situation. "They're comin', Dad.
We ain't got no time to lose."

Re-entering the cabin, Mr. Howitt quieted the dog, while his
companion fastened the rear door, and, in the silence, while they
waited, a cricket under the corner of the house sang his plaintive
song. The sound of voices grew louder as the horses drew nearer.
Brave growled and would have barked again, but was quieted by the
shepherd, who crouched at his side, with one hand on the dog's
neck.

The older man smiled to himself. It all seemed to him so like a
child's game. He had watched the mountaineer's preparation with
amused interest, and had followed the young woodsman's directions,
eve