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"I know why you're telling us," Thomas said, slowly. "It's because I because we're not like Petersen and the others; it's because I we can help you." "Help me?" sneered the girl. "How?" "I don't know, yet. But you're out of place here. There's a place for you somewhere; I'll find it." Ponatah shook her head wearily. "Mary says I belong here, with my people." "No.
Bill slept well that night, for now that he knew the game which was going on he felt sure that sooner or later he would take a hand in it. Just how or when the hand would fall he could not tell, but that did not worry him in the least, inasmuch as he already held the trumps. It seemed that a kindly fortune had guided him to the Aurora; that fate had decreed he should avenge the wrongs of Ponatah.
It so chanced that he found her alone. Now neither he nor any other man had ever called upon her, therefore she was dumfounded at his coming. "Well, Kid," he announced, "me 'n' the Doc have sold Eclipse Creek, and we bow out tomorrow on the big smoke." Ponatah opened her lips, but no sound issued.
"Carlisle is an Indian school." "What made you come back?" Thomas inquired, curiously. Ponatah shrugged her shoulders. "There was an end to the money. What could I do? At first I thought I'd be able to help my people, but I couldn't. They will learn from the white people, but not from one of their own kind." "Your parents ?" "They died when I was a baby. Mary took me in."
There was nothing brazen or forward about the proposal; Ponatah merely gave voice to her feelings in a simple, honest way that robbed her of no dignity. Bill laughed the proposal off. "I wouldn't marry the Queen of Sheby," said he. "Why?" "I ain't that kind of a bird, that's why." "What kind of a bird are you?" Ponatah eyed him with grave curiosity. "All men marry.
"Like me?" he asked. Ponatah turned away blindly, but as she did so Laughing Bill put his hand gently upon her shoulder, saying: "Cheer up, Kid. You're going to join the troupe. I've come to get you." There was amazement, incredulity, in the girl's face as she lifted it to his. "What do you mean?" she quavered. "Are you going to marry me?" "You guessed it!" he laughed.
When he closed down the works, in June, he and his partner held bank deposit slips for a trifle over one hundred thousand dollars. Rumor placed their profits at much more. Bill saw little of Ponatah after his return to Nome, for the girl avoided him, and when he did see her she assumed a peculiar reserve.
Yust vait. You don't know how purty is Ponatah. She " Petersen's listeners waited. They are waiting yet, for the mail-man never completed his admiring recital of the Indian girl's charms, owing to the fact that the genial Mr. Hyde without warning tapped his late friend's round head with the leather butt of the dog-whip.
Ponatah took up her new duties with enthusiasm, and before a month had passed she had endeared herself to her employers, who secretly assured Doctor Thomas that they had discovered a treasure and would never part with her. She was gentle, patient, sweet, industrious; the children idolized her. The Indian girl had never dreamed of a home like this; she was deliriously happy.
But alcoholism was not one of Mr. Hyde's weaknesses. The best of Bill's bad habits was much worse than drink; he had learned from experience that liquor put a traitor's tongue in his head, and in consequence he was a teetotaler. "I got a job for you, Pete," he announced. "I got you another sled-load for your next trip. You know Ponatah?" "Ponatah? Sure Aye know 'im."
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