"I don't know. All I know is he'll bear watchin'."
"My gracious, Lew Wetzel!" exclaimed Betty as her brother and the hunter rejoined the others. "Have you come all the way over here without a gun? And you have on a new suit of buckskin."
Lewis stood a moment by Betty, gazing down at her with his slight smile. He looked exceedingly well. His face was not yet bronzed by summer suns. His long black hair, of which he was as proud as a woman could have been, and of which he took as much care as he did of his rifle, waved over his shoulders.
"Betty, this is my birthday, but that ain't the reason I've got my fine feathers on. I'm goin' to try and make an impression on you," replied Lewis, smiling.
"I declare, this is very sudden. But you have succeeded. Who made the suit? And where did you get all that pretty fringe and those beautiful beads?"
"That stuff I picked up round an Injun camp. The suit I made myself."
"I think, Lewis, I must get you to help me make my new gown," said
Betty, roguishly.
"Well, I must be getting' back," said Wetzel, rising.
"Oh, don't go yet. You have not talked to me at all," said Betty petulantly. She walked to the gate with him.
"What can an Injun hunter say to amuse the belle of the border?"