when he must speak, for it was the last day of
his visit. He felt that he could not go back to the city without a
definite understanding.

Sammy, too, realized this, but still she was not ready to give an
answer to the question he would ask. They had been to the Forks,
and were on their way home. As they rode slowly under the trees,
the man pleaded his cause, but the woman could only shake her head
and answer quite truthfully, "Ollie, I don't know."

"But tell me, Sammy, is there any one in the way?"

Again she shook her head, "I--I think not."

"You think not! Don't you know?" The young man reined his horse
closer to the brown pony. "Let me help you decide, dear. You are
troubled because of the change you see in me, and because the life
that I have tried to tell you about is so strange, so different
from this. You need not fear. With me, you will very soon be at
home there; as much at home as you are here. Come, dear, let me
answer for you."

The girl lifted her face to his; "Oh, if you only could!" But,
even as she spoke, there came to her the memory of that ride home
from the party at Ford's, when her pony had crowded close to the
big white faced sorrel. It was Brownie this time who was pulled
sharply aside. The almost involuntary act brought a quick flush to
the young man's cheek, and he promptly reined his own horse to the
right, thus placing the full width of the road between them. So
they went down the hill into the valley, where Fall Creek tumbled
and laughed on its rocky way.

A thread of blue smoke, curling lazily up from the old stack, and
the sound of a hammer, told them that some one was at the mill.
Sammy was caught by a sudden impulse. "Why, that must be Young
Matt!" she exclaimed. "Let us stop. I do believe you haven't seen
him since you came home."

"I don't want to see him, nor any one else, now," returned Ollie.
"This is our last evening together, Sammy, and I want you all to
myself. Let us go up the old Roark trail, around Cox's Bald, and
home through the big, low gap." He checked his horse as he spoke,
for they had already passed the point where the Roark trail leaves
Fall Creek.

But the girl was determined to follow her impulse. "You can stop
just a minute," she urged. "You really ought to see Matt, you
know. We can ride back this way if you like. It's early yet."

But the man held his place, and replied shortly, "I tell you I
don't want to see anybody, and I am very sure that Young