"

The smile ended in an involuntary grunt, for Loll with the fire of
wrath in his eye had leaped at the investigator and with all the
strength of his eight years had planted both fists in the stomach of
the unprepared Indian.

"_She's_ not a squaw!" shouted the outraged little fellow, making ready
for another attack.

At the same moment Jean, her face burning and her hazel eyes two points
of fire, landed a stinging blow on the surprised Swimming Wolf's ear.

Straightening himself, he side-stepped, flinging his white blanket over
his shoulder with a sheepish grin.

"Fierce little squaw with white feet!" he chuckled, admiringly.

With loud laughs of amusement the others backed away. The circle
broken, the indignant Jean caught at the hand of her small protector
and fled away in the direction of the store.

Angry with herself and thoroughly mortified by what she considered the
insulting familiarity of the Indian, she ran heedlessly. She rounded
the corner of one of the little courtyard cabins with reckless haste
and before she could check herself, had collided smartly with the
dejected figure of a young man. The impact sent her staggering
backward, but at the stammered words of apology which accompanied the
steadying hands he reached toward her, she looked at him with angry
scorn.

"It's a pity you white men are never around when you're needed!" she
stormed at his surprised face. "But squaw-men, I suppose, are always
busy--driving their wives to suicide!" She flung the last words at him
and fled across the courtyard. At the moment she was out of patience
with the entire population of Katleean. As she disappeared into the
store with Loll, she left Gregg Harlan gazing after her perplexedly,
wondering at her last sentence. It was his first actual meeting with
either of the white women from the _Hoonah_. Because of their advent
in Katleean he had remained sober for several days, but for some reason
he did not understand he had not yet been given an opportunity to meet
these women from his own world. He turned from his contemplation of
the empty doorway and walked back to his own cabin, his head bowed in
thought.

CHAPTER IV

BAIT

While Jean and Loll were pursuing their adventures about the post the
White Chief was entertaining his other two guests in his low-ceilinged
living-room, dusky and pleasantly scented from logs of yellow cedar
burning in the fireplace. He was posed in his favorite atti