She was weavin' a horsehair bracelet onto his wrist, and I seen the
flash of his ring on her finger. Mike could travel some.

He was a bit flustered, it seemed to me, and he tried to laugh the
matter off, but the girl didn't. There was something about the look
of her that I didn't like. I've seen a whole lot of trouble come from
less than a horsehair bracelet. This here quail was mebbe seventeen;
she was slim and shy, and she had big black eyes and a skin like
velvet. I spoke to Mike in words of one syllable, and I drug him away
with me to our tent.

That afternoon some half-grown boys got to runnin' foot-races and Mike
entered. He let 'em beat him, then he offered to bet a pony that they
couldn't do it again. The kids was game, and they took him quick. Mike
faked the race, of course, and lost his horse, that bein' part of our
progam.

When it was all over I seen the chief's daughter had been watchin' us,
but she didn't say nuthin'. The next mornin', however, when we got up
we found a bully pinto pony tied to one of our tent stakes.

"Look who's here," said I. "Young Minnie Ha-ha has made good your
losin's."

"That pony is worth forty dollars," said Mike.

"Sure. And you're as good as a squaw-man this minute. You're
betrothed."

"Am I?" The idy didn't seem to faze Mike. "If that's the case," said