“Ask him how many he’s got on hand, Tally,” said Mr. Gilroy.
Tally turned to the little family group that stood at one side of the low-ceiled room listening to and watching the Eastern people. When Tally asked them Mr. Gilroy’s question, the old man shoved one of the young squaws out of the room, at the same time jabbering some lingo to her. In a few minutes she returned dragging a heavy packing-case at her heels. In this box were more than a dozen pairs of boots of different sizes.
“Where shall we sit to try them on?” asked Mrs. Vernon, seeing there were no chairs in the hut.
“On the floor, where the host sits to work or entertain,” laughed Julie.
Meantime Tally had been busy with the foot-wear, and now handed out pairs of the boots that he thought would fit the various members in his party. Thus, in half an hour’s time, each one was provided with a pair of the boots. The men each took two pair, and then insisted that Tally select a pair for himself. He protested.
“But our guide is more important than our outfits. Keeping you comfortably shod is an asset for the season,” declared Mrs. Vernon.
Then the girls began to argue with him, till finally, holding aloft both hands in mimic surrender, Tally accepted the gift.
“Now, how much do we owe your new acquaintance, Tally?” asked Mr. Vernon, taking a roll of bills from his pocket.
Tally asked the Indian, but that salesman shook his head and replied in native speech.
“He say he not know onny whad he get f’om agent. Mebbe you not lak pay so mooch,” explained Tally.