no waitin' on the other side."

"You buy de wet horse?"

"No, by Gawd,--I wet 'em!"

"Why you steal?"

He looked at her contemptuously.

"Why does anybody steal? I need the dinero--me, Smith."

"You want money?"

He laughed.

"I always want money. I never had enough but once in my life, and then I
had too much. Gold is hell to pack," he added reminiscently.

"I have de fine hay-ranch, white man, de best on de reservation. Two, four
t'ousand dollars I have when de hay is sold. De ranch is big"--her arms
swept the horizon to show its extent. "You stay here and make de bargain
with de cattlemen, and I give you so much"--she measured a third of her
hand with her forefinger. "If dat is not enough, I give you so much"--she
measured the half of her hand with her forefinger. "If dat not enough, I
give you all." She swept the palm of one hand with the other.

Smith dropped his eyelids, that she might not see the triumph shining
beneath them.

"I must think, Prairie Flower."

"No, white man, you no think. You stay!"

Smith, who had arisen, slipped his arm about her ample waist. She pulled
aside his Mackinaw coat and laid her head upon his breast.

"The white man's heart is strong," she said softly.

"It beats for you, Little Fawn;" and he ran out his tongue in derision.

All the morning she sat on the floor at his feet, braiding the rags for
her mat, content to hear him speak occasionally, and to look often into
his face with dog-like devotion. It was there Susie saw her when she
returned from school earlier in the afternoon than usual, and was beckoned
into the kitchen by Ling.

"He's makin' a mash," said Ling laconically, as he jerked his thumb toward
the open door of the living-room.

All the girlish vivacity seemed to go out of Susie's face in her first
swift glance. It hardened in mingled shame and anger.

"Mother," she said sharply, "you promised me that you wouldn't sit on the
floor like an Injun."

"We're gettin' sociable," said Smith mockingly.

The woman glanced at Smith, and hesitated, but finally got up and seated
herself on the bench.

"Why don't you try bein' 'sociable' with the Schoolmarm?" Susie sneered.

"Maybe I will."

"And _maybe_ you won't get passed up like a white chip!"

"Oh, I dunno. I've made some winnings."

"I can tell that by your eyes. You got 'em bloodshot, I reckon, hangin'
over the fire in squaw camps. White men can't stand smoke like Injuns."

This needle-tongue