“Who? What are you talking about?”
“The squaws! They're here in full force. Mary, the old darling, she's brought the whole tribe, I do believe!”
Ellie busied herself at the counter, trying to appear at ease when the Indian women filed into the store and stood gazing about them. She was impatient to know if they were pleased, but their impassive faces told nothing. She would just have to let them take their time. So she pretended not to notice them as they drew near to the counter, fingering the beads and dress-goods.
“How do you like my new dress, Mary?” Ellie turned on them suddenly. The squaws approached slowly and began to feel the cloth. Mary took hold of the beads and said, “Uh!” Then in a moment, “How much?”
Ellie's impulse was to throw her arms around Mary and hug her, but she was very dignified and grown-up as she answered calmly: “We don't sell the beads. They are not for sale!”
“Well of all things! Not for sale!” muttered Job, as he slipped through the rear door into the store-room and slammed it vehemently.
“They are not for sale, but we give a string of them to any one who buys a dress.”
Five of the squaws bought dresses, and each time a long string of beads was passed over.
In the afternoon, Ellie's watchful eyes caught the first glimpse of them as the same squaws, accompanied by others, rounded the curve in the path and came single file up the steep short-cut to the store.
Ellie counted her profits that night and was satisfied. Still, there were some twenty or twenty-five squaws in the settlement who had never been inside the store, and she made up her mind that they must be persuaded to come.