American farmers. I am not of those who believe in
teaching creeds that are dying out of our own life; to be clean, to be
peaceful, to be happy--these are the precepts I would teach them."

"I don't understand you, and I think I would better go to bed," she
said, with a return to her ordinary manner. "Good-night."

"Good-night," he replied, and in the utterance of those words was
something that stirred her unaccountably.

"He makes life too serious, and too full of responsibility," she
thought. "I don't like to feel responsible. All the same, he is fine,"
she added, in conclusion.

XV

ELSIE ENTERS HER STUDIO

Elsie, being young and of flamelike vitality, was up and ready for a
walk while Two Horns was building the fire, and was trying to make him
understand her wish to paint him, when Curtis emerged from his tent.

"Good-morning, Captain," she called. "I'm glad you've come. Please tell
Two Horns I want to have him sit for me."

Curtis, with a few swift gestures, conveyed her wishes to Two Horns, who
replied in a way which made Curtis smile.

Elsie asked, "What does he say?"

"He says, 'Yes, how much?'"

"Oh, the mercenary thing!"

"Not at all," replied Curtis. "His time is worth something. You artists
think the redmen ought to sit for nothing."

Two Horns ran through a swift and very graceful series of signs, which
Curtis translated rapidly.

"He says: 'I have heard of you. You painted Elk's daughter. I hear you
sell these pictures and catch a great pile of money. I think it is right
you pay us something when we stand before you for long hours, while you
make pictures to sell to rich men in Washington. Now, I drive a team; I
earn some days two dollars driving team. If I stop driving team, and
come and sit for you, then I lose my two dollars.'"

As he finished, Two Horns smiled at Elsie with a sly twinkle in his eyes
which disconcerted her. "You sabbe?" he ended, speaking directly to her.

"I sabbe," she said, in reply.

"Good!" He held out his hand and she took it, and the bargain was
sealed. He then returned to his work about the camp.

"Isn't it glorious!" the girl cried, as she looked about her. "It's
enough to do an artist all over new." The grass and the willows sparkled
with dew-drops. The sky, cloudless save for one long, low,
orange-and-purple cape of glory just above the sunrise, canopied a
limitless spread of plain to the north and east, while the high butte to
the back was lik