“But since she has taken you?” said I.
“She ain't said it. But she will when she understands Tommy.”
I fancied that the lady understood. The once I had seen her she appeared to me as what might be termed an expert in men, and one to understand also the reality of Tommy's ranch and allowance, and how greatly these differed from Box Elder. Probably the one thing she could not understand was why Lin spared the mother and her cubs. A deserted home in Dubuque, a career in a railroad eating-house, a somewhat vague past, and a present lacking context—indeed, I hoped with all my heart that Tommy would win!
“Lin,” said I, “I'm backing him.”
“Back away!” said he. “Tommy can please a woman—him and his blue eyes—but he don't savvy how to make a woman want him, not any better than he knows about killin' Injuns.”
“Did you hear about the Crows?” said I.
“About young bucks going on the war-path? Shucks! That's put up by the papers of this section. They're aimin' to get Uncle Sam to order his troops out, and then folks can sell hay and stuff to 'em. If Tommy believed any Crows—” he stopped, and suddenly slapped his leg.
“What's the matter now?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing.” He took to singing, and his face grew roguish to its full extent. “What made yu' say that to me?” he asked, presently.
“Say what?”