"Aw, that is too bad!" said Billy.
But now it was Bah's turn to smile. She held out her blanket and said: "You see Bah's blanket. Bah come to trade blanket for doll in Trading Post. So pretty doll, Ma Shima said!"
Billy remembered the papoose doll and was delighted to think that it would really belong to his friend.
"That's great," he said. "May I go along with you while you trade? I never saw anyone trade and I'd like to watch you."
"Me never trade before," said the Indian girl softly, and it seemed to Billy that her voice trembled.
"Poor little kid," he said to himself. "She's scared stiff!"
He went into the store with Bah and watched her as she walked up to the man in the corner and handed him the blanket. Then she pointed to the doll—but she said nothing. The man took the blanket and examined it. He knew immediately what she wanted.
He understood Indians. And as he looked at the blanket a smile passed over his face, and Billy noticed for the first time that the blanket was far from perfect.
There was a hole in it, and some of the threads were sticking out. Oh, it was not a very well made blanket when one compared it with the works of art hanging on the wall.