dark mass of
the mountain ridge with the low gap where his home nestled among
the trees. He could see the light from the cabin window shining
like a star. Behind him lay the darker forest of the Hollow, and
beyond, like a great sentinel, was the round, treeless form of
Dewey Bald. From where he stood, he could even see clearly against
the sky the profile of the mountain's shoulder, and the ledge at
Sammy's Lookout. Another moment, and the young man had left the
path that led to his home, and was making straight for the distant
hill. He would climb to that spot where he had stood in the
afternoon, and would look down once more upon the little cabin on
the mountain side. Then he would go home along the ridge.

Three quarters of an hour later, he pushed up out of a ravine that
he followed to its head below the Old Trail, near the place where,
with Pete and the shepherd, he had watched Sammy reading her
letter. He was climbing to the Lookout, for it was the easiest way
to the ledge, and, as his eye came on a level with the bench along
which the path runs, he saw clearly on the big rock above the
figure of a man. Instantly Young Matt stopped. The moon shone full
upon the spot, and he easily recognized the figure. It was Ollie
Stewart.

Young Stewart had been greatly puzzled by Sammy's attitude. It was
so unexpected, and, to his mind, so unreasonable. He loved the
girl as much as it was possible for one of his weak nature to
love; and he had felt sure of his place in her affections. But the
door that had once yielded so readily to his touch he had found
fast shut. He was on the outside, and he seemed somehow to have
lost the key. In this mood on his way home, he had reached the
spot that was so closely associated with the girl, and, pausing to
rest after the sharp climb, had fallen to brooding over his
disappointment. So intent was he upon his gloomy thoughts that he
had not heard Young Matt approaching, and was wholly unconscious
of that big fellow's presence in the vicinity.

For a time the face at the edge of the path regarded the figure on
the rock intently; then it dropped from sight. Young Matt slipped
quietly down into the ravine, and a few moments later climbed
again to the Old Trail at a point hidden from the Lookout. Here he
stepped quickly across the narrow open space and into the bushes
on the slope of the mountain above. Then with the skill of one
born and reared in the woods, the mountaineer made his way t