from his tongue--what
would it be? As Danvers lifted the flushing girl from her mount, her
eyes gave promise beneath their long-lashed veiling that the answer
would not be "no."

It was not many days before Major Thornhill took his daughter to task
for her neglect of Mr. Burroughs.

"Don't you let go of Burroughs," he counseled, with brutal sordidness.
"These young lawyers and lieutenants haven't a cent, so far as I can
find out. Burroughs has money and will have more. Remember that an army
officer never has anything to leave to his mourners."

Eva shrugged her shoulders; but her training showed her the wisdom of
her father's advice, and she bestowed more favor on the trader than he
had received for several days. However, she decided that one more ride
with the lieutenant she must have, and so impetuous was Philip that she
allowed him to say more than she intended he should. His wooing was
eager, headlong.

As they drew near the town on their return from their long ride, the
girl saw a squaw peering from the bushes beside the trail.

"Who is that squaw?" she asked, petulantly. "It seems to me that I never
go out but she is near me!"

"Oh--er----" he stammered, losing, for a moment, his self-possession as
he recognized Burroughs' property. He knew that the trader had pledged
his intimates to secrecy as to his relations with Pine Coulee while Miss
Thornhill was a visitor at Macleod, and he, while not pledged, would be
the last one to bring her in any way to Eva's notice. "Oh," he began
again, "she's a Blackfoot."

"That is evasion, pure and simple!" retorted his companion. "She wants
either to speak to me--or to kill me, I've not decided which. Wait here!
I am going to speak to her!"

"You are probably the first white woman she ever saw," Philip tried
vainly to make a satisfactory explanation; but, to his consternation,
Eva was gone.

Pine Coulee stood motionless as the fair-haired girl drew rein beside
her. Never had she shown her Indian blood more clearly than in the
stolid awaiting of her rival. Danvers drew nearer, fearing results.

"Do you speak English?" Pine Coulee was asked. "I think that you want to
speak to me. What is it? What can I do for you?" The look of dejection
on the dark face touched even Miss Thornhill.

Silence.

"What a big baby!" was Eva's next effort to gain good-will.

She was sure that the squaw could, at least, understand English; and the
gleam of motherhood, kindling at her pr