Mebbyso yo' watchum," Peppajee said, as he swung
slowly down from Huckleberry's back.
"All right. I'll watchum plenty," Good Indian promised lightly,
gave a glance of passing, masculine interest at the squaw who was
braiding her hair, and who was young and fresh-cheeked and
bright-eyed and slender, forgot her the instant his eyes left
her, and made haste to return to the Malad and the girl who held
all his thoughts and all his desire.
That girl was sitting upon the rock which Donny had occupied, and
she looked very much as if she were sulking, much as Donny had
sulked. She had her chin in a pink palm and was digging little
holes in the sand with the tip of her rod, which was not at all
beneficial to the rod and did not appear even to interest the
digger; for her wonderfully blue eyes were staring at the
green-and-white churn of the rapids, and her lips were pursed
moodily, as if she did not even see what she was looking at so
fixedly.
Good Indian's eyes were upon her while he was dismounting, but he
did not go to her immediately.
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