meet—Miss Margot MacFarlane. Within a very few hours she is going to become Mrs. Carter Brent. You see," he added turning to Reba Reeves, "I brought her straight to you. The hotel isn't——"
The sentence was never finished, already the two women were in each other's arms, and Reba Reeves was smiling at him over the girl's shoulder: "Carter Brent! If you had dared to even think of taking her to the hotel, I'd never have spoken to you again! You just let me catch you talking about hotels—when your folks are living right here! And now take off your things because supper is most ready. You'll find warm water in the reservoir of the stove, and I'll make an extra lot of good hot coffee, because I know you will be tired of tea."
Never in his life had Brent enjoyed a meal as he enjoyed that supper in the dining room of the Reeves', with Snowdrift, radiant with happiness, beside him, and his host and hostess eagerly plying him with questions.
"I think it is the most romantic thing I ever heard of!" cried Reba Reeves, when Snowdrift had finished telling of her life among the Indians, and at the mission, "It's easy enough to see why Carter chose you, but for the life of me I can't see how you came to take an old scapegrace like him!" she teased, and the girl smiled:
"I took him because I love him," she answered, "Because he is good, and strong, and brave, and because he can be gentle and tender and—and he
understands. And he is not a scapegrace any more," she added, gravely, "He has told me all about how he drank hooch until he became a—a bun——"
"A what?"
"A bun—is it not that when a man drinks too much hooch?"
"A bum," supplied Brent, laughing.
"So many new words!" smiled the girl. "But I will learn them all. Anyway, we will fight the hooch together, and we will win."