As Sammy’s father talked, the big figure of his visitor relaxed, and when Jim had finished his slow speech, Wash was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front. “We ain’t got no call t’ fight, now, Jim,” he said in a tone of respect. “We got something else t’ think about; an’ that’s what I come here fer t’night. I didn’t aim t’, ’til I seed what I did at th’ ranch down yonder. I tell you hit’s time we was a doin’ somethin’.”
At this, Mr. Lane’s face and manner changed quickly. He put up his weapon, and the two men drew their chairs close together, as though Death had not a moment before stretched forth his hand to them.
For an hour they sat talking in low tones. Sammy in the next room had heard the conversation up to this point, but now only an occasional word reached her ears. Gibbs seemed to be urging some action, and her father was as vigorously protesting. “I tell you, Jim, hit’s th’ only safe way. You didn’t use t’ be so squeamish.” Several times the old shepherd was mentioned, and also the stranger whom Wash had seen that evening. And once, the trembling girl heard Young Matt’s name. At length the guest rose to go, and Mr. Lane walked with him to the gate. Even after the big man was mounted, the conversation still continued; Wash still urging and Jim still protesting.
When his visitor was gone, Mr. Lane came slowly back to the house. Extinguishing the light, he seated himself in the open doorway, and filled his pipe. Sammy caught the odor of tobacco, and a moment later Jim heard a light, quick step on the floor behind him. Then two arms went around his neck; “What is it, Daddy? What is it? Why don’t you drive that man away?”
“Did you hear us talkin’?” asked the man, an anxious note in his voice.
“I heard you talkin’ to him about pesterin’ me, but after that, you didn’t talk so loud. What is the matter, Daddy, that he could stay and be so thick with you after the things you said? I was sure he’d make you kill him.”
Jim laughed softly; “You’re just like your mother, girl. Just like her, with the old blood a backin’ you up.” Then he asked a number of questions about Mr. Howitt, and her visit to the ranch that evening.
As Sammy told him of her ambition to fit herself for the place that would be hers, when she married, and repeating the things that Mr. Howitt had told her, explained how the shepherd had promised to help, Jim expressed his satisfaction and delight. “I knowed you was a studyin’ about something, girl,” he said, “but I didn’t say nothin’, ’cause I ’lowed you’d tell me when you got ready.”
“I didn’t want to say nothing ’til I was sure, you see,” replied the daughter. “I aimed to tell you as soon as I got home to-night, but Wash Gibbs didn’t give me no chance.”
The man held her close “Dad Howitt sure puts the thing just right, Sammy. It’ll be old times come back, when you’re a lady in your own house with all your fine friends around; and you’ll do it, girl; you sure will. Don’t never be afraid to bank on the old blood. It’ll see you through.” Then his voice broke; “You won’t never be learned away from your old Daddy, will you, honey? Will you always stand by Daddy, like you do now? Will you let me and Young Matt slip ’round once in a while, just to look at, you, all so fine?”