A squaw came up to the young soldier and offered innocently her face for a kiss.
Beresford knew the tribal custom. It was his business to help establish friendly relations between the Mounted and the natives. He kissed the wrinkled cheek gallantly. A second dusky lady shuffled forward, and after her a third. The constable did his duty.
His roving eye caught Jessie's, and found an imp of mischief dancing there. She was enjoying the predicament in which he found himself. Out of the tail of that same eye he discovered that two more flat-footed squaws were headed in his direction.
He moved briskly across the floor to the counter, vaulted it, and stood beside Jessie. She was still laughing at him.
"You're afraid," she challenged. "You ran away."
A little devil of adventurous mirth was blown to flame in him. "I saw another lady, lonely and unkissed. The Force answers every call of distress."
Her chin tilted ever so little as she answered swiftly.
"He who will not when he may,
When he will he shall have nay."
Before she had more than time to guess that he would really dare, the officer leaned forward and kissed the girl's dusky cheek.
The color flamed into it. Jessie flung a quick, startled look at him.