"There are unlimited opportunities for me to make good, now that the government is putting up so many dams. I believe that I can go to the top with any man, don't you, Miss Rhoda?"
"I do, indeed!" replied Rhoda sincerely.
"Well, then, Miss Rhoda, will you marry me?"
Rhoda raised her head in speechless amazement.
Kut-le's glowing eyes contracted.
"You are not surprised!" he exclaimed a little fiercely, "You must have seen how it has been with me ever since you came. And you have been so—so bully to me!"
Rhoda looked helplessly into the young man's face. She was so fragile that she seemed but an evanescent part of the moonlight.
"But," she said slowly, "you must know that this is impossible. I couldn't think of marrying you, Kut-le!"
There was a moment's silence. An owl called from the desert. The night wind swept from the fragrant orchard. When he spoke again, Kut-le's voice was husky.
"Is it because I am an Indian?"