Did she blame Ollie that he had played so poorly his part in the scene at the mill.  No, she told herself over and over again, as though repeating a lesson; no, Ollie was not to blame, and yet—­

She knew that he had spoken truly when he said that there were things that counted for more than brute strength.  But was there not something more than brute strength in the incident?  Was there not that which lay deeper? something of which the brute strength, after all, was only an expression?  The girl stamped her foot impatiently, as she exclaimed aloud, “Oh, why did he not try to do something?  He should have forced Wash Gibbs to beat him into insensibility rather than to have submitted so tamely to being played with.”

In the distance she saw the shepherd following his flock down the mountain, and the old scholar, who always watched the Lookout, when in the vicinity, for a glimpse of his pupil, waved his hand in greeting as he moved slowly on after his charges.  It was growing late.  Her father, too, would be coming home for his supper.  But as she rose to go, a step on the mountain side above caught her attention, and, looking up, she saw Pete coming toward the big rock.  Sammy greeted the youth kindly, “I haven’t seen Pete for days and days; where has he been?”

“Pete’s been everywhere; an’ course I’ve been with him,” replied the lad with his wide, sweeping gesture.  Then throwing himself at full length at the girl’s feet, he said, abruptly, “Pete was here that night, and God, he was here, too.  Couldn’t nobody else but God o’ done it.  The gun went bang, and a lot more guns went bang, bang, all along the mountains.  And the moonlight things that was a dancin’ quit ’cause they was scared; and that panther it just doubled up and died.  Matt and Ollie wasn’t hurted nary a bit.  Pete says it was God done that; He was sure in the hills that night.”

Sammy was startled.  “Matt and Ollie, a panther?  What do you mean, boy?”

The troubled look shadowed the delicate face, as the lad shook his head; “Don’t mean nothin’, Sammy, not me.  Nobody can’t mean nothin’, can they?”

“But what does Pete mean?  Does Pete know about it?”

“Oh, yes, course Pete knows everything.  Don’t Sammy know ’bout that night when God was in the hills?” He was eager now, with eyes wide and face aglow.

“No,” said Sammy, “I do not know.  Will Pete tell me all about it?”

The strange youth seated himself on the rock, facing the valley below, saying in a low tone, “Ollie was a settin’ like this, all still; just a smokin’ and a watchin’ the moonlight things that was dancin’ over the tops of the trees down there.”  Then leaping to his feet the boy ran a short way along the ledge, to come stealing back, crouching low, as he whispered, “It come a creepin’ and a creepin’ towards Ollie, and he never knowed nothin’ about it.  But Matt he knowed, and God he knowed too.”  Wonderingly, the girl watched his