CHAPTER XXIII.
OLLIE COMES HOME.
THE day that Ollie was expected at the cabin on Dewey Bald, Mr. Lane was busy in the field.
"I don't reckon you'll need me at th' house nohow," he said with a queer laugh, as he rose from the dinner table; and Sammy, blushing, told him to go on to his work, or Young Matt would get his planting done first.
Jim went out to get his horse from the stable, but before he left, he returned once more to the house.
"What is it, Daddy? Forget something?" asked Sammy, as her father stood in the doorway.
"Not exactly," drawled Jim. "I ain't got a very good forgetter. Wish I had. It's somethin' I can't forget. Wish I could."
In a moment the girl's arms were about his neck, "You dear foolish old Daddy Jim. I have a bad forgetter, too. You thought when I began studying with Dad Howitt that my books would make me forget you. Well, have they?" A tightening of the long arm about her waist was the only answer. "And now you are making yourself miserable trying to think
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