ned and black-haired. Otherwise she conformed to none of
Miss Benton's preconceived ideas of the aboriginal inhabitant. If she
had been pinned down, she would probably have admitted that she
expected to behold an Indian maiden garbed in beaded buckskin and brass
ornaments. Instead, Katy John wore a white sailor blouse, a brown
pleated skirt, tan shoes, and a bow of baby blue ribbon in her hair.

"Why, she talks good English," Miss Benton exclaimed, as fragments of
the girl's speech floated over to her.

"Sure. As good as anybody," Charlie drawled. "Why not?"

"Well--er--I suppose my notion of Indians is rather vague," Stella
admitted. "Are they all civilized and educated?"

"Most of 'em," Benton replied. "The younger generation anyhow. Say,
Stell, can you cook?"

"A little," Stella rejoined guardedly. "That Indian girl's really
pretty, isn't she?"

"They nearly all are when they're young," he observed. "But they are old
and tubby by the time they're thirty."

Katy John's teeth shone white between her parted lips at some sally from
the cook. She stood by the door, swinging a straw hat in one hand.
Presently Matt handed her a parcel done up in newspaper, and she walked
away with a nod to some of the loggers sitting with their backs against
the bunkhouse wall.

"Why were you asking if I could cook?" Stella inquired, when the girl
vanished in the brush.

"Why, your wail about being a man and putting on overalls and digging in
reminded me that if you liked you may have a chance to get on your apron
and show us what you can do," he laughed. "Matt's about due to go on a
tear. He's been on the water-wagon now about his limit. The first man
that comes along with a bottle of whisky, Matt will get it and quit and
head for town. I was wondering if you and Katy John could keep the gang
from starving to death if that happened. The last time I had to get in
and cook for two weeks myself. And I can't run a logging crew from the
cook shanty very well."

"I daresay I could manage," Stella returned dubiously. "This seems to be
a terrible place for drinking. Is it the accepted thing to get drunk at
all times and in public?"

"It's about the only excitement there is," Benton smiled tolerantly. "I
guess there is no more drinking out here than any other part of this
North American continent. Only a man here gets drunk openly and
riotously without any effort to hide it, and without it being considered
anything but a natural lapse