"You'll only get in trouble," she urged, "and Mr. Ralston will see that
Smith gets all that's comin' to him when he has enough proof. He's stole
more than horses from me," she said bitterly, "and if I can wait and trust
the white man to handle him as he thinks best, you can, too."

So the Indians reluctantly withdrew, but both Smith and Susie knew that
their smouldering resentment was ready to break out again upon the
slightest provocation.

Susie's assurance that the attack of the Indians was due only to suspicion
did not convince Smith. He noticed that, with the exception of Yellow
Bird, there was not a single Indian stopping at the ranch, and Yellow Bird
not only refused to be drawn into friendly conversation, but distinctly
avoided him.

Smith knew that he was now upon dangerous ground, yet, with his
unfaltering faith in himself and his luck, he continued to walk with a
firm tread. If he could make one good turn and get the Indian woman's
stake, he told himself, then he and Dora could look for a more healthful
clime.

The Schoolmarm never had appeared more trim, more self-respecting, more
desirable, than when in her clean, white shirt-waist and well-cut skirt
she stepped forward to greet him with a friendly, outstretched hand. His
heart beat wildly as he took it.

"I was afraid you had gone 'for keeps,'" she said.

"Were you _afraid_?" he asked eagerly.

"Not exactly afraid, to be more explicit, but I should have been sorry."
She smiled up into his face with her frank, ingenuous smile.

"Why?"

"You were getting along so well with your lessons. Besides, I should have
thought it unfriendly of you to go without saying good-by."

"Unfriendly?" Smith laughed shortly. "Me unfriendly! Why, girl, you're
like a mountain to me. When I'm tired and hot and all give out, I raises
my eyes and sees you there above me--quiet and cool and comfortable,
like--and I takes a fresh grip."

"I'm glad I help you," Dora replied gently. "I want to."

"I'm in the way of makin' a stake now," Smith went on, "and when I gets
it"--he hesitated--"well, when I gets it I aims to let you know."

When Dora went into the house, to her own room, Smith stepped into the
living-room, where the Indian woman sat by the window.

"You like dat white woman better den me?" she burst out as he entered.

"Prairie Flower," he replied wearily, "if I had a dollar for every time
I've answered that question, I wouldn't be lookin' for no stake to b