o
more. Too lonesome. I like for work all time in pictures. I come, tell
Wagalexa Conka I be Indian girl for pictures. He write letter for agent,
write letter for my father. They writes letter for say yes, I stay. I
stay and do plenty more foreground stuff."

"I don't see you do moch foreground work since that white girl come,"
Ramon observed, hitting what he instinctively knew was a tender point.

Had he seen her face, he must have been satisfied that the chance shot
struck home. But in the shadow hate blazed unseen from her eyes. She did
not speak, and so he went back to his first charge.

"All this don't tell me moch," he complained. "Yoh lov' him, maybe?
That's what I ask."

"Wagalexa Conka my brother, my father, my friend," she replied calmly,
and let him interpret it as he would.

"He treats yoh like a dog. He crazee 'bout that Jean. He gives her all
smiles, all what yoh call foreground stuff. I know--I got eyes. Me, it
makes me mad for see how he treat yoh--and yoh so trying hard always
to Please. He got no heart for yoh--me, I see that." He moved a step
closer, hesitating, wanting yet not quite daring to touch her. "Me, I
lov' yoh, little Annie," he murmured. "Yoh lov' me little bit, eh? Jus'
little bit! Jus' for say, 'Ramon, I go weeth yoh, I be yoh woman--'"

Annie-Many-Ponies widened the distance between them. "Why you not say
wife?" she queried suspiciously.

"Woman, wife, sweetheart--all same," he assured her with his voice like
a caress. "All words mean I lov' yoh jus' same. Now yoh say yoh lov' me,
say yoh go weeth me, I be one happy man. I go back on camp and my heart
she's singing lov' song. My girl weeth eyes that shine so bright, she
lov' me moch as I lov' her. That what my heart she sing. Yoh not be so
cruel like stone--yoh say, 'Ramon, I lov' yoh.' Jus' like that! So easy
to say!"

"Not easy," she denied, moved to save her freedom yet a while longer.
"I say them words, then I--then I not be same girl like now. Maybe much
troubles come. Maybe much happy--I dunno. Lots time I see plenty trouble
come for girl that say them words for man. Some time plenty happy--I
think trouble comes most many times. I think Wagalexa Conka he be awful
mad. I not like for hims be mad."

"Now you make ME mad--Ramon what loves yoh! Yoh like for Ramon be mad,
perhaps? Always yoh 'fraid Luck Lindsay this, 'fraid Luck that other.
Me, I gets damn' sick hear that talk all time. Bimeby he marree som'
girl, then what f