I make love like a man
ought to--"

"Are you making love to me?" she inquired, curiously.

"It's a little bit sudden, I know, but a man has to begin some time. I
think you'd just about suit me. We'll both have money before long, and
I'll be good to you."

The girl laughed derisively in his face.

"Now don't get sore. I mean business. I don't wear a blue coat and use
a lot of fancy words, and then throw you down when I've had my fun, and
I don't hang around and spoil your chances with other men either."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm no soft-talking Southerner with gold buttons and
highfalutin' ways. I don't care if you are a squaw, I'll take you--"

"Don't talk to me!" she cried, in disgust, her voice hot with anger and
resentment.

But he continued, unheeding: "Now, cut out these airs and get down to
cases. I mean what I say. I know you've been casting sheep's eyes at
Burrell, but, Lord! he wouldn't have you, no matter how rich you get.
Of course, you acted careless in going off alone with him, but I don't
mind what they're saying around camp, for I've made little slips like
that myself, and we'd get along--"

"I'll have you killed!" she hissed, through her clinched teeth, while
her whole body vibrated with passion. "I'll call Poleon and have him
shoot you!" She pointed to the river-bank a hundred yards away, where
the Canadian was busy assorting skins.

But he only laughed at her show of temper, and shrugged his shoulders
as he answered her, roughly:

"Understand me, I'm on the square. So think it over, and don't go up in
the air like a sky-rocket."

She cried out at him to "Go--go--go!" and finally he took up his
bundle, saying, as he stepped out slowly:

"All right! But I'm coming back, and you'll have to listen to me. I
don't mind being called a squaw-man. You're pretty near white, and
you're good enough for me. I'll treat you right--why, I'll even marry
you if you're dead set on it. Sure!"

She could scarcely breathe, but checked her first inclination to call
Poleon, knowing that it needed only a word from her to set that
nut-brown savage at Runnion's throat. Other thoughts began to crowd her
brain and to stifle her. The fellow's words had stabbed her
consciousness, and done something for her that gentler means would not
have accomplished; they had opened her eyes to a thing that she had
forgotten--a hideous thing that had reared its fangs once before to
strike, but which her dreams of happine