ou're dead right, Boy. I sure do wish you'd tell me
your name; but I reckon that's too much to ask of a little geezer like
you. Here. Help yourself, kid--you ain't in no Injun camp now. You're
with white folks now."

Cash sat down on the bench he had made for himself, and stared into the
fire. His whole attitude spelled abstraction; nevertheless he missed no
little sound behind him.

He knew that Bud was talking largely for his benefit, and he knew
that here was the psychological time for breaking the spell of silence
between them. Yet he let the minutes slip past and would not yield.
The quarrel had been of Bud's making in the first place. Let Bud do the
yielding, make the first step toward amity.

But Bud had other things to occupy him just then. Having eaten all his
small stomach would hold, Lovin Child wanted to get down and explore.
Bud had other ideas, but they did not seem to count for much with Lovin
Child, who had an insistent way that was scarcely to be combated or
ignored.

"But listen here, Boy!" Bud protested, after he had for the third time
prevented Lovin Child from backing off the table. "I was going to take
off these dirty duds and wash some of the Injun smell off yuh. I'll tell
a waiting world you need a bath, and your clothes washed."

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," persisted Lovin Child, and pointed to the floor.

So Bud sighed and made a virtue of defeat. "Oh, well, they say it's bad
policy to take a bath right after yuh eat. We'll let it ride awhile, but
you sure have got to be scrubbed a plenty before you can crawl in with
me, old-timer," he said, and set him down on the floor.

Lovin Child went immediately about the business that seemed most
important. He got down on his hands and knees and gravely inspected the
broad black line, hopefully testing it with tongue and with fingers to
see if it would yield him anything in the way of flavor or stickiness.
It did not. It had been there long enough to be thoroughly dry and
tasteless. He got up, planted both feet on it and teetered back and
forth, chuckling up at Bud with his eyes squinted.

He teetered so enthusiastically that he sat down unexpectedly and with
much emphasis. That put him between two impulses, and while they battled
he stared round-eyed at Bud. But he decided not to cry, and straightway
turned himself into a growly bear and went down the line on all fours
toward Cash, growling "Ooooooo!" as fearsomely as his baby throat was
capable of growli