Mr. Howitt took his hat from the nail.  “If you must go, I will walk a little way with you.  I love to be out such nights as this.  I often wish Pete would take me with him.”

“He’s out somewhere to-night, sure,” replied the other, as they started.  “We heard him a singin’ last night.”  Then he stopped and asked, “Where’s your gun, Dad?  There’s a panther somewhere on this range.”

“I know,” returned the shepherd; “I heard it scream last night; and I meant to go up to the house to-day for a gun.  I broke the hammer of mine yesterday.”

“That’s bad,” said Young Matt.  “But come on, I’ll leave mine with you until to-morrow.  That fellow would sure make things lively, if he should come to see you, and catch you without a shootin’ iron.”

Together the two walked through the timber, until they came to where the trail that leads to the Matthews place begins to climb the low spur of the hill back of the house.  Here Mr. Howitt stopped to say good-night, adding, as the young man gave him the rifle, “I don’t like to take this, Grant.  What if you should meet that panther between here and home?”

“Shucks!” returned the other; “you’re the one that’ll need it.  You’ve got to take care of them sheep.  I’ll get home alright.”

“Don’t forget the other beast, lad.  Remember what it is that makes the man.”

CHAPTER XXV.

Young Matt remembers.

After parting with his friend, Young Matt continued on his way until he reached the open ground below the point where the path from the ranch joins the Old Trail.  Then he stopped and looked around.

Before him was the belt of timber, and beyond, the dark mass of the mountain ridge with the low gap where his home nestled among the trees.  He could see the light from the cabin window shining like a star.  Behind him lay the darker forest of the Hollow, and beyond, like a great sentinel, was the round, treeless form of Dewey Bald.  From where he stood, he could even see clearly against the sky the profile of the mountain’s shoulder, and the ledge at Sammy’s Lookout.  Another moment, and the young man had left the path that led to his home, and was making straight for the distant hill.  He would climb to that spot where he had stood in the afternoon, and would look down once more upon the little cabin on the mountain side.  Then he would go home along the ridge.

Three quarters of an hour later, he pushed up out of a ravine that he followed to its head below the Old Trail, near the place where, with Pete and the shepherd, he had watched Sammy reading her letter.  He was climbing to the Lookout, for it was the easiest way to the ledge, and, as his eye came on a level with the bench along which the path runs, he saw clearly on the big rock above the figure of a man.  Instantly Young Matt stopped.  The moon shone full upon the spot, and he easily recognized the figure.  It was Ollie Stewart.