"He is and he ain't. I mean she'll marry an 'outside' man. He ain't good enough, and—well, he ain't her kind." Alluna's grunt of indignation was a sufficient answer to this, but he resumed, jerking his head in the direction of the barracks. "She's been talking a lot with this—this soldier."
"Him good man, too, I guess," said the wife.
"The hell he is!" cried the trader, fiercely. "He don't mean any good to her."
"Him got a woman, eh?" said the other.
"No, no! I reckon he's single all right, but you don't understand. He's different from us people. He's—he's—" Gale paused, at a loss for words to convey his meaning. "Well, he ain't the kind that would marry a half-breed."
Alluna pondered this cryptic remark unsuccessfully, and was still seeking its solution when her lord continued:
"If she really got to loving him it would be bad for all of us."
Evidently Alluna read some hidden meaning back of these words, for she spoke quickly, but in her own tongue now, as she was accustomed to do when excited or alarmed.
"Then this thing must cease at once. The risk is too great. Better that you kill him before it is too late."'
"Hardly that," said the trader.