ike, with lightish hair, kind, of wavy, and a big mustache like
his hair, and fine white teeth showing when he smiled. He was sure
good lookin', damn him! and with his fine store clothes and a
smooth easy way of talkin' and actin' he had, 'tain't no wonder
she took up with him. We all did. I used to think God never made a
finer body for a man. I know now that Hell don't hold a meaner
heart than the one in that same fine body. And that's somethin'
that bothers me a heap, Mr. Howitt.

"As I say, our girl was built like Sammy Lane, and so far as looks
go she was his dead match. I used to wonder when I'd look at them
together if there ever was such another fine lookin' pair. I ain't
a goin' to tell you his name; there ain't no call to, as I can
see. There might be some decent man named the same. But he was one
of these here artist fellows and had come into the hills to paint,
he said."

A smothered exclamation burst from the listener.

Mr. Matthews, not noticing, continued: "He sure did make a lot of
pictures and they seemed mighty nice to us, 'though of course we
didn't know nothin' about such things. There was one big one he
made of Maggie that was as natural as life. He was always drawin'
of her in one way or another, and had a lot of little pictures
that didn't amount to much, and that he didn't never finish. But
this big one he worked at off and on all summer. It was sure fine,
with her a standin' by the ranch spring, holdin' out a cup of
water, and smilin' like she was offerin' you a drink."

It was well that the night had fallen. At Old Matt's words the
stranger shrank back in his chair, his hand raised as if to ward
off a deadly blow. He made a sound in his throat as if he would
cry out, but could not from horror or fear. But the darkness hid
his face, and the mountaineer, with mind intent upon his story,
did not heed.

"He took an old cabin at the foot of the hill near where the sheep
corral is now, and fixed it up to work in. The shack had been
built first by old man Dewey, him that the mountain's named after.
It was down there he painted the big picture of her a standin' by
the big spring. We never thought nothin' about her bein' with him
so much. Country folks is that way, Mr. Howitt, 'though we ought
to knowed better; we sure ought to knowed better." The old giant
paused and for some time sat with his head bowed, his forgotten
pipe on the floor.

"Well," he began again; "he stopped with us all that sum