, 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, an