"You don't like it--you don't think it is pretty?" she asked, and her mouth was a little tremulous. "I tried so hard. I sewed part of it myself, and Mrs. Huzzard said--"
Lyster arose from a seat by the window. He had entered the room but a moment before, and now lounged toward her with critical eyes.
"Mrs. Huzzard said you were enchanting in your new gown--is not that it?" he asked, and then frowned at Overton in a serio-comic way. "And lives there a man with soul so dead that he cannot perceive the manifold beauties arranged for his inspection? Well, you know I told you I appreciate you much more than he will ever do; so--"
"What nonsense you are talking!" said Overton, irritably. "Of course, the dress is all right. I don't know much about such things, though; so my opinion is not worth much. But I don't think little girls should be told so much of their charms, Lyster. They are too likely to be made think that prettiness is the only thing worth living for."
He smiled at 'Tana to soften the severity of his speech; but she was not looking at him just then, and so missed the softening accompaniment. She felt it was herself who was taken to task instead of Lyster, and stood with drooped, darkening face until the door closed behind Overton.
"That is your fault," she burst out. "He--he might have thought it was nice, if you hadn't been here with your fool speeches. You just go around laughing at everything, Mr. Max Lyster, and you're just as empty as that china cat on the mantel, and it's hollow. I'd like to hit you sometimes when you say your nice, tantalizing words--that's what _I'd_ like to do; and maybe some day I will."
"I shouldn't be surprised if you did," he agreed, and stepped back out of range of her clenched brown hands. "Whew! what a trial you'd be to a guardian who had nerves. You are spoiling your pretty face with that satanic expression. Now, why should you make war on me? I'm sure I am one of your most devoted servants."
"You are your own devoted servant," she retorted, "and you'll never be any other person's."
"Well, now, I'm not so sure of that," he said, and looked at her smilingly. All her anger did not keep him from seeing what a wondrous difference all that white, billowy lawn made in the girl whom he had taken for a squaw that first day when he saw her swimming the Kootenai.
She looked taller, slighter, with such lovable curves in the girlish form, and the creamy neck and arms gleaming through the thin material. No ornaments or ribbons broke the whiteness of her garb--nothing but the Indian belt of beads that Overton had given her, and in it were reddish tints and golden brown the color of her hair.
To be sure, the cheeks were a little tanned by the weather, and the little hand was browner than need be for beauty; but, for all that, he realized, as Overton had seemingly not done, that the girl, when dressed as dainty girlhood should be, was very pretty, indeed.
"I am willing to sign myself your bond slave from this hour, if that will lessen your anger against me," he protested. "Just think, I leave Sinna Ferry to-morrow. How shall I do penance until then?"
"'It may be for years, and it may be forever, Then why art thou silent, O voice of my heart?'"
She pouted and frowned a little at his warbling, though a smile eventually touched her lips, and speculation shone in her eyes.
"I _will_ make you do penance," she declared, "and right now, too. I haven't any money, but I'll put up my moccasins against five dollars in a game of poker."
"You--play poker?"
"I'll try," she said briefly, and her eyes sparkled; "I'll play you and ask no favors."
"Your moccasins are not worth five."
"Maybe not. Call it two-fifty then and promise me two hands at that."
"How sure you are to win!" he laughed, well pleased that she was diverted from her quick displeasure. "We'll call it five against the moccasins. Here are the cards. And what am I to do with those little moccasins, even if I do win them?"
"Oh, I'll take care of the moccasins!" she said, easily. "I guess they'll not trouble you much, Mr. Lyster. Cut for deal?"
He nodded, and they commenced their game there alone in Mrs. Huzzard's most respectable _caf_. Mrs. Huzzard herself did not approve of card playing. No one but Captain Leek had, as yet, been allowed that privilege. His playing she had really begun to look upon as almost moral in its effects, since he pursued it as the most innocent of pastimes, never betting more than a few dimes, and since it secluded him effectually from the roaring lion of iniquity to which so many men fell victims in the lively little settlement. But 'Tana, knowing that card playing by a girl would not be a thing within Mrs. Huzzard's understanding, glanced warily at the door leading to the second floor of the establishment and comforted herself that the mistress of the domain was yet employed by her toilet for the evening.
'Tana dealt, and did it so deftly that Lyster looked at her in surprise, even irritation. What business had she touching the bits of pasteboard like that--like some old gambler. Such a slight slip of a thing, with all the beauty of early youth in her face, and all the guilelessness of a vestal in the pure white of her garb. He fancied he would have felt different if he had seen her playing cards in that Indian dress; it would not have brought such a discord with it. And it was not merely that she played, but it was the way she played that brought vexation to him--that careless, assured handling of the cards. It seemed almost professional,--it seemed--
"I'll just take that little five," remarked his opponent easily, and spread out the cards before him. "I know what you've got, and it won't touch this flush, and if you play again I'd advise you to gather your wits and not play so wild--that is, if you want to win."
He stared at her in astonishment. It was quite true--while his thoughts had been with her personality and her incongruous occupation, her thoughts had been centered very decidedly on the points of the game. She, at least, had not played "wild." A doubt even came into his mind, as to whether she played honestly.
"I don't think I cared about winning," he answered, "I'd rather have given you the stakes than to have had you play for them that way--yes, 'Tana, double the stakes."
"Oh, would you?" she asked, with saucy indifference. "Well, I ain't asking favors. I guess I can win all I want."
"No doubt you can," he assented, gravely. "But as young ladies do not generally depend on their skill with cards to earn their pocket money, I'm afraid Overton would have a lecture ready for you, if he learned of your skill."
"Let him," she said, recklessly. "I've tried to be good, and tried to be nice, and--and even pretty," she added, touching the dainty sleeve and skirt of her dress, "but what use is it? He just stands off and stares at me, and even speaks sharp as if he's sorry he ever brought me down here. I didn't think he'd be like that. He was nicer in Akkomi's village; and now--"
She hesitated, and, seeing that Lyster's eyes were watching her attentively, she laughed in a careless way, and curled the five-dollar bill around her finger.
"So I might as well be bad, don't you see? and I'm going to be, too. I want this five dollars to gamble with, and for nothing else in the world. I'm going to get square with some one."
"Which means you are going to worry some one else, just because Overton has annoyed you," decided Lyster. "That is a woman's idea of retaliation, I believe. Am I the selected victim?"
"Of course you're not, or I wouldn't have told you. All I wanted of you was to give me a start."
"Exactly; your frankness is not very flattering; but, in spite of it, I'd like to give you a start in a different way--toward a good school, for instance. How would you like that?"
She looked at him for a moment suspiciously, she was so used to raillery from him; then she answered briefly: