y was frightened at the sight of his face, so strange and
white. "Why Daddy, Daddy Jim, what is the matter?"

"Nothin', girl, nothin'. Only--only you're so like your mother,
girl. She--she used to come just this way when I'd be leavin'.
You're sure like her, and--and I'm glad. I'm glad you're like the
old folks, too. Remember now, stay at Mandy's until to-morrow
evenin'. Kiss me again, honey. Good-by."

He mounted hurriedly and rode away at a brisk gallop. Pulling up a
moment at the edge of the timber, he turned in the saddle to wave
his hand to the girl in the cabin door.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A RIDE IN THE NIGHT.

Sammy arrived at the Ford homestead in time for dinner, and was
joyfully received by her friend, Mandy. But early in the
afternoon, their pleasure was marred by a messenger from Long
Creek on the other side of the river. Mrs. Ford's sister was very
ill, and Mrs. Ford and Mandy must go at once.

"But Sammy can't stay here alone," protested the good woman.
"Mandy, you'll just have to stay."

"Indeed, she shall not," declared their guest. "I can ride up Jake
Creek to the Forks and stay all night at Uncle Ike's. Brownie will
make it easily in time for supper. You just get your things on and
start right away."

"You'd better hurry; too," put in Mr. Ford. "There's a storm
comin' 'fore long, an' we got t' git across th' river 'fore hit
strikes. I'll be here with th' horses by the time you get your
bonnets on." He hurried away to the barn for his team, while the
women with Sammy's assistance made their simple preparation.

As mother Ford climbed into the big wagon, she said to Sammy,
"Hit's an awful lonely ol' trip fer you, child; an' you must start
right away, so's t' be sure t' get there 'fore hit gets plumb
dark," while Mr. Ford added, as he started the team, "Your pony's
ready saddled, an' if you'll hurry along, you can jest 'bout make
hit. Don't get catched on Jakey in a big rain whatever you do."

"Don't you worry about me," returned the girl, "Brownie and I
could find the way in the dark."

But when her friends were gone, Sammy, womanlike, busied herself
with setting the disordered house aright before she started on her
journey. Watching the clouds, she told herself that there was
plenty of time for her to reach the Postoffice before the storm.
It might not come that way at all, in fact.

But the way up Jake Creek was wild and rough, and along the faint
trail, that twisted and wound lik