John was too startled to be resentful.
"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "Cartwell is a great friend of the Newmans'."
"That's why I came to you. They're plumb locoed about the fellow, like the rest of the Easterners around here."
"Do you know anything against him?" insisted DeWitt.
"Why, man, he's an Injun, and half Apache at that! That's enough to know against him!"
"What makes you think he's interested in Miss Tuttle?" asked John.
Porter flushed through his tan.
"Well," he said sheepishly, "I seen him come down the hall at dawn this morning. Us Westerners are early risers, you know, and when he reached Miss Turtle's door, he pulled a little slipper out of his pocket and kissed it and put it in front of the sill."
DeWitt scowled, then he laughed.
"He's no worse than the rest of us that way! I'll watch, him, though perhaps it's only your prejudice against Indians and not really a matter to worry about."