“Tell what, Daddy Jim?” the girl asked, her hands stealing up to caress her father’s face.
“What answer will you give to Young Matt when he asks you what Ollie did?”
“But why must you know that before you go to-morrow?”
“’Cause I want to be plumb sure I ain’t makin’ no mistake in sidin’ with the boy in this here trouble.”
“You couldn’t make a mistake in doing that, Daddy, no matter whether I—no matter what—but perhaps Matt will not ask me what Ollie did.”
Just a ray of humor touched the dark face. “I ain’t makin’ no mistake there. I know what the man will do.” He laid the gun upon the table, and reaching up caught the girl’s hand. “But I want to know what you’ll say when he asks you. Tell me, honey, so I’ll be plumb certain I’m doin’ right.”
Sammy lowered her head and whispered in his ear.
“Are you sure this time, girl, dead sure?”
“Oh, I’m so sure that it seems as if I—I couldn’t wait for him to come to me. I never felt this way before, never.”
The mountaineer drew his daughter into his arms, and held her close, as he said, “I ain’t afraid to do it, now, girl.”