for
her smiles.

When they finished their supper there were loud calls for her to come
in and sit among them. Bela shrugged and, picking up a box, stood
looking over them. They fell suddenly silent, wondering which she
would choose. She laughed mockingly and, turning, carried her box in
front of the fire.

From this point Mahooley, in the midst of the general chaffing,
unexpectedly received a narrow-eyed look over her shoulder that went
to his head a little. He promptly arose and carried his box to her
side. Mahooley was the greatest man present, and none presumed to
challenge him.

Bela bridled and smiled. "What for you come over here?" she demanded.
"I not tell you to."

"Oh, I took a chance," said the trader coolly. At the same time his
wicked, dancing little eyes informed her that he knew very well she
had asked him over. The sanguine Mahooley was no celibate, and he
cared not who knew it.

"You think 'cause you the trader you do w'at you like," said Bela
mockingly.

"Any man can do pretty near what he wants if he has the will."

"What is will?"

"Oh--determination."

"You got plenty 'termination, I suppose." This with a teasing smile.

Mahooley looked at her sharply. "Look here, what are you getting at?"
he demanded.

"Not'ing."

"I'm no hand to bandy words. I'm plain spoken. I go direct to a
thing."

Bela shrugged.

"You can't play with me, you know. Is there anything you want?"

"No," said Bela with a provoking smile.

As Mahooley studied her, looking into the fire, a novel softness
confused him. His astuteness was slipping from him, even while he
bragged of it. "Damned if you're not the handsomest thing in this part
of the world!" he said suddenly. It was surprised out of him. His
first maxim was: "A man must never let anything on with these girls."

"Pooh! W'at you care about 'an'some?" jeered Bela. "Girls all the same
to you."

This flecked Mahooley on the raw. A deep flush crept into his face.
"Ah, a man leads a man's life," he growled. "That ain't to say he
don't appreciate something good if it comes his way."

"They say you treat girls pretty bad," said Bela.

"I treat 'em as they deserve," replied Mahooley sullenly. "If a girl
don't get any of the good out of me, that's up to her."

It was the first time one of these girls had been able to put him out
of countenance.

"Poor girls!" murmured Bela.

He looked at her sharply again. The idea that a native girl might
laugh at