"Fader Barnum, he's goin' be here nex' Sonday for cheer up dem Injun. Constantine she's got de letter."
"Why, that's the day after to-morrow!" cried Necia. "Oh, won't I be glad to see him!"
"You don' get dem kin' of mans on de beeg cities," said Poleon. "I ain' never care for preachin' much, an' dese feller w'at all de tam' pray an' sing t'rough de nose, dey mak' me seeck. But Fader Barnum—Ba Gar! She's the swell man."
"Do you know," said Necia, wistfully, "I've always wanted him to marry me."
"You t'inkin' 'bout marry on some feller, eh?" said the other, with an odd grin. "Wal! w'y not? He'll be here all day an' night. S'pose you do it. Mos' anybody w'at ain' got some wife already will be glad for marry on you—an' mebbe some feller w'at has got wife, too! If you don' lak' dem, an' if you're goin' marry on SOMEBODY, you can be wife to me."
Necia laughed lightly. "I believe you WOULD marry me if I wanted you to; you've done everything else I've ever asked. But you needn't be afraid; I won't take you up." In all her life this man had never spoken of love to her, and she had no hint of the dream he cherished. He had sung his songs to her and told her stories till his frank and boyish mind was like an open page to her; she knew the romance that was the very fibre of him, and loved his exaggerated chivalry, for it minded her of old tales she had read; but that he could care for her save as a friend, as a brother—such a thought had never dawned upon her.
While they were talking a boat had drawn inshore and made fast to the bank in front of them. An Indian landed and, approaching, entered into talk with the Frenchman.
By-and-by Poleon turned to the girl, and said:
"Dere's'hondred marten-skin come in; you min' de store w'ile I mak' trade wit' dis man."
Together the two went down to the boat, leaving Necia behind, and not long after Runnion sauntered up to the store and addressed her familiarly.