proper one to tell
you! One of your gentleman friends is outside, evidently waiting for
you."

Pen looked out. Old Suma-theek was standing on the trail, arms folded,
watching the tent patiently. He had had one interview with Sara soon
after the crippled man had appeared at the dam. The talk had been
desultory and in Pen's presence, but never after could the old Indian be
induced to come into the tent.

"He like a broken backed snake, your buck," he had said calmly to Pen,
whom he had obviously adored from the first.

Pen came down the trail to see what Suma-theek wanted. She knew there
was no hurrying him, so she sat down on a stone and waited. Suma-theek
seated himself beside her and rolled a cigarette. After he had smoked
half of it, he said:

"Boss Still Jim, he heap sad in his heart."

Pen nodded.

"You love him, Pen Squaw?" asked Suma-theek, earnestly.

"We all do," replied Pen. "He and I have known each other many, many
years."

"Don't talky-talk!" cried Suma-theek impatiently. "I mean you love him
with a big love?"

Pen looked into Suma-theek's face. She had grown very close to the old
Indian. And then, as if the flood in her heart was beyond her control,
she said:

"You will never tell, Suma-theek?" and as the Apache shook his head she
went on eagerly, "I love him so much that after a while I must go away,
old friend, or my heart will break!"

The old Indian shook his head wonderingly. "Whites are crazy fools," he
groaned. "You sabez he be here only three months more?"

Pen started. "What do you mean, Suma-theek?"

"You no tell 'em!" warned the old chief. "He tell Suma-theek this
morning. Big Boss in Washington tell 'em he only stay three months, then
be on any Projects no more."

Pen sat appalled. "Oh, Suma-theek, that can't be true! You couldn't have
heard right. I'll go and ask him now."

Suma-theek laid a hand on her arm. "You no talk to him about it! You
last one he want to know. I tell you so you go love him, then he no care
what happen."

"Oh, Suma-theek, you don't understand! He loves the dam. It will break
his heart to leave it. Even I couldn't comfort him for that. Are you
sure you are right?"

Yet even as she repeated the question, Pen's own sick heart answered.
This was what had put the new strain into Jim's face, the new pleading
into his voice.

"How shall I help him," she moaned.

"You no tell him, you sabez," repeated Suma-theek. "He want you think he
Boss here long as