Then she looked up, and the sullen, troubled, unchildlike eyes made him troubled for her sake.
“Rivers is a good name—Rivers?” she asked, and he nodded his head, grimly.
“That will do,” he agreed. “But you give it just because you were baptized in the river this evening, don’t you?”
“I guess I give it because I haven’t any other I intend to be called by,” she answered.
“And you will cut loose from this outfit?” he asked. “You will come with me, little girl, across there into God’s country, where you must belong.”
“You won’t let them look down on me?”
“If any one looks down on you, it will be because of 44 something you will do in the future, ’Tana,” he said, looking at her very steadily. “Understand that, for I will settle it that no one knows how I came across you. And you will go?”
“I—will go.”
“Come, now! that’s a good decision—the best you could have made, little girl; and I’ll take care of you as though you were a cargo of gold. Shake hands on the agreement, won’t you?”
She held out her hand, and the old squaw in the corner grunted at the symbol of friendship. Akkomi watched them with his glittering eyes, but made no sign.