Then a buzz of talk went round; the fiddlers struck up again; the callers shouted; the dancers stamped, and bowed, and swung their partners as they sang.
And out in the night under the trees, at the edge of the gloomy forest, the strongest man in the hills was saying over and over to the big, white faced sorrel, "I don't dare do it.

I don't dare.
Dad Howitt wouldn't.

He sure wouldn't." Very soon two figures left the house, and hurried toward a bunch of saddle horses near by.

They had untied their animals, and were about to mount, when suddenly a huge form stepped from the shadows to their horses' heads.

"Put up your guns, boys," said Young Matt calmly.