"Gee whiz," sighed Billy. "I'm out with my two an' a quarter!"
"Yes," smiled the man. "No one knows how much work the Injuns put into that stuff. It's all handmade, and their tools ain't so good either, so it takes 'em a long time. But they sure know how to make 'em."
"You bet they do," said Billy—and just then his eye fell on a doll, a papoose it was, with a blanket and a string of beads. He thought of Cornelia and smiled to himself. How Bah would open her eyes if she could see this one!
As he was thinking about her, he suddenly decided to try once more to find her. Maybe this storekeeper knew where the village was. He asked—the storekeeper knew of several not far away.
"The Indians come in every day with things to trade. It's funny how they like plain stuff like beans and salt and will trade beautiful jewelry and blankets for just plain sacks of food. But we try and treat 'em fair. It would be easy though to cheat 'em. They don't know how valuable their stuff is."
"But you don't!" said Billy.
"No, we don't. Indians are honest, and white men should treat 'em honestly!"
"That's right," said Billy, thinking of the only Indian he ever knew, and deciding to be off in search of her home.
As he stepped out of the door he saw a small figure trudging along towards the Trading Post with what looked like a small blanket thrown over her arm. As she came closer he recognized Bah and ran to meet her.