“Guess I ain’t in no hurry.”
“Well, I’m glad of that. And you’re not grumpy with me either, are you? No?” as Seth shook his head. “That’s all right, then, because I want to talk to you.”
“That’s how I figgered.”
“You’re always figuring, Seth. You figure so much in your own quiet way that I sometimes fancy 113 you haven’t time to look at things which don’t need calculating upon. I suppose living near Indians all your life makes you look very much ahead. I wonder—what you see there. You and Rube.”
“Guess you’re side-tracked,” Seth replied uneasily, and turning his attention to the blank paper before him.
The girl’s face took on a little smile. Her eyes shone again as she contemplated the dark head of the man who was now unconscious of her gaze. There was a tender look in them. The old madcap in her was taming. A something looked out of her eyes now which certainly would not have been there had the man chanced to look up. But he didn’t. The whiteness of the paper seemed to absorb all his keenest interest.
“I rather think you always fancy I’m side-tracked, Seth,” the girl said at last. “You don’t think I have a serious thought in my foolish head.”
Seth looked up now and smiled.
“Guess you’ve always been a child to me,” he said. “An’ kiddies ain’t bustin’ with brain—generly. However, I don’t reckon you’re foolish. ’Cep’ when you git around that Reservation,” he added thoughtfully.
There was a brief silence. The man avoided the violet eyes. He seemed afraid to look at them. Rosebud’s presence somehow made things hard for him. Seth was a man whom long years of a life fraught with danger had taught that careful thought 114 must be backed up by steady determination. There must be no wavering in any purpose. And this girl’s presence made him rebel against that purpose he had in his mind now.