Thus the two speculated until the sandpaper grating of Ermine's moccasins on the porch warned them, and looking up they beheld the scout, standing with his rifle in the hollow of his left arm. This was unusual and produced several seconds of very bad silence. Captain Lewis held up his hand in mockery of the "peace sign," and said: "I see you're fixed for war, Ermine. Sit down over there. I want to talk to you."
The scout removed his hat and sat down, but with the ominous rifle in place. He had been told by the orderly whom he was to encounter; and it had come over him that wanting to marry Katherine Searles might be some crime against the white man's law. He had seen very natural actions of men punished under those laws during his sojourn in camp.
"Ermine, I understand that during the temporary absence of her father this evening, you asked Miss Searles to marry you."
"I did, sir."
"Very well. Don't you think you took an unfair advantage of her father's absence?"
"I don't know, sir. A man doesn't speak to a woman before other men," replied Ermine, dubiously.
The Captain emitted a slight cough, for the blow had staggered him a little. He knew the law of convention, and he knew the customs of men; but they did not separate readily in his mind.
"In any event, Ermine, the young lady had given you no encouragement which would warrant you in going to the length of proposing marriage to her."
This was an assertion which Ermine did not care to discuss. His views would not coincide, and so he fumbled his hat and made no reply.
"I may state that you are not warranted in aspiring to the hand of Miss Searles for many reasons; further, that she distinctly doesn't want attention of any kind from you. To this I will add, her father and mother forbid you all association in the future—do you understand?"