The girl caught his hand; “You—­you won’t leave me, Dad?  You won’t leave me alone?  I’m afraid, Dad.  I never was before.”

“No, no, my child; I shall not leave you.  But you must have something warm to drink.  I have been preparing it.”  He stepped into the other room, soon returning with a steaming cup.  When she had finished the strengthening draught, Young Matt, with his mother and father, arrived.

While helping the girl into clean, dry clothing, Aunt Mollie spoke soothingly to her, as one would reassure a frightened child.  But Sammy could hear only the three men, moving about in the other room, doing something and talking always in low tones.  She did not speak, but in her brown eyes, that never left the older woman’s face, was that wide, questioning look.

When Mrs. Matthews had done what she could for the comfort of the girl, and the men had finished whatever they were doing in the other room, Sammy said, “Aunt Mollie, I want to know.  I must know.  Won’t you tell Dad to come, please?” Instinctively she had turned to her teacher.

When the shepherd came, she met him with the old familiar demand, “Tell me everything, Dad; everything.  I want to be told all about it.”

“You will be brave and strong, Sammy?”

Instantly, as ever, her quick mind grasped the meaning that lay back of the words and her face grew deathly white.  Then she answered, “I will be brave and strong.  But first, please open the window, Dad.”  He threw up the sash.  It was morning, and the mists were over the valley, but the mountain tops were bathed in light.

Sammy arose, and walked steadily to a chair by the open window.  Looking out upon the beautiful scene, her face caught the light that was on the higher ground, and she said softly, “’I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills.’  That’s our word, now, isn’t it, Dad?  I can share it with you, now.”  Then the shepherd told her.  Young Matt had been at the ranch with Mr. Howitt since early in the evening, and was taking his leave for the night when they heard horses stopping at the corral, and a voice calling.  Upon their answering, the voice said, “There is trouble at Jim Lane’s.  Take these horses and go quick.”  And then as they had run from the house, the messenger had retreated into the shadow of the bluff, saying, “Never mind me.  If you love Sammy, hurry.”  At this they mounted and had ridden as fast as possible.

The old man did not tell the girl that he had found his saddle wet and slippery, and that when he reached the light his hands were red.

They had found the officers ready to leave with their prisoners.  All but two of the men were captured with their booty—­Wash Gibbs alone escaping badly hurt, they thought, after killing one of the posse.

When they had asked for Sammy, one of the officers told them that she was at Ford’s over on Jake Creek, but another declared that he had heard a woman scream as they were making the attack.  Young Matt had found her unconscious on the ground behind the cabin.