er been a bad man like
Wash Gibbs, or a no account triflin' one, like them Thompsons, but
he couldn't never a been what he is now, through and through, if
he hadn't a known you. There's a heap more, too, all over the
country that you've talked to a Sunday, when the parson wasn't
here. As for me, you--you sure been a God's blessin' to me and
Mollie, Mr. Howitt."

Again the shepherd moved uneasily, as if to protest, but his big
friend made a gesture of silence; "Let me say it while I got a
chance, Dad." And the other bowed his head while Old Matt
continued; "I can't tell how it is, an' I don't reckon you'd
understand any way, but stayin' as you have after our talk that
first night you come, an' livin' down here on this spot alone,
after what you know, it's--it's just like I was a little kid, an'
you was a standin' big and strong like between me an' a great
blackness that was somethin' awful. I reckon it looks foolish, me
a talkin' this way. Maybe it's because I'm gettin' old, but anyhow
I wanted you to know."

The shepherd raised his head and his face was aglow with a glad
triumphant light, while his deep voice was full of meaning as he
said gently, "It has been more to me, too, than you think, Mr.
Matthews. I ought to tell you--I--I will tell you--" he checked
himself and added, "some day." Then he changed the topic quickly.

"Are you sure there is no one who can help you over this hard
time? Is there NO way?"

The mountaineer shook his head. "I've gone over it all again an'
again. Williams at the bank is the only man I know who had the
money, an' he's done for now by this robbery. You see I can't go
to strangers, Dad; I ain't got nothin' left for security."

"But, could you not sell the sheep for enough to save the
homestead?"

"Who could buy? or who would buy, if they could, in this country,
without a bit of feed? And then look at 'em, they're so poor an'
weak, now, they couldn't stand the drivin' to the shippin' place.
They'd die all along the road. They're just skin an' bones, Dad;
ain't no butcher would pay freight on 'em, even."

Mr. Howitt sat with knitted brow, staring into the shadows. Then
he said slowly, "There is that old mine. If this man Dewey were
only here, do you suppose--?"

Again the mountaineer shook his head. "Colonel Dewey would be a
mighty old man now, Dad, even if he were livin.' 'Tain't likely
he'll ever come back, nor tain't likely the mine will ever be
found without him. I studied