At the gate, Ollie dismounted to help the girl from her horse. But before he could reach the pony’s side, Sammy sprang lightly to the ground, unassisted. Opening the big gate, she turned Brownie loose in the yard, while the man stood watching her, a baffled look upon his face. He had always done these little things for her. To be refused at this time was not pleasant. The feeling that he was on the outside grew stronger.
Turning to his own horse, Ollie placed his foot in the stirrup to mount, when Sammy spoke,—perhaps she felt that she had been a little unkind—“You were going to stay to supper,” she said.
“Not to-night,” he answered, gaining his seat in the saddle, and picking up the reins.
“But you are going to leave in the morning, are you not? You—you must not go like this.”
He dropped the reins to the horse’s neck again, “Look here, Sammy, do you blame me because I did not fight that big bully?”
“What could I do? You know there is not another man in the mountains beside Young Matt who could have done it. Surely you cannot blame me.”
The young woman moved uneasily, “No, certainly not. I do not blame you in the least. I—but it was very fortunate that Young Matt was there, wasn’t it?” The last sentence slipped out before she knew.
Ollie retorted angrily, “It seems to be very fortunate for him. He will be a greater hero than ever, now, I suppose. If he is wise, he will stay in the backwoods to be worshipped for he’ll find that his size won’t count for much in the world. He’s a great man here, where he can fight like a beast, but his style wouldn’t go far where brains are of value. It would be interesting to see him in town; a man who never saw a railroad.”
Sammy lifted her head quickly at this, and fixed her eyes on the man’s face with that wide, questioning gaze that reminded one so of her father, “I never saw a railroad, either; not that I can remember; though, I suppose we must have crossed one or two on our way to Texas when I was a baby. Is it the railroads then that makes one so—so superior?”
The man turned impatiently in the saddle, “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” she answered slowly. “I think I do know what you mean.”
Ollie lifted the reins again from his horse’s neck, and angered them nervously. “I’d better go now; there’s no use talking about this to-night. I won’t leave in the morning, as I had planned. I—I can’t go like this.” There was a little catch in his voice. “May I come again to-morrow afternoon, Sammy?”