"What's the use of lookin' at him?" Mike inquired. "All Injuns look
alike--except one."

I pulled back the tent fly and stepped out; then I called to Mike, for
the first thing I seen was that gold fillin' of ours. Yes, sir, right
there, starin' me in the eye, was the sole and shinin' monument to
me and Mike's brief whirl at the science of dentistry. The face
surroundin' it was stretched wide and welcome, and the minute this
here new-comer reco'nized me, he drawed back his upper lip and pointed
proudly to his ornament, then he dug up his lookin'-glass and his
polishin'-rag and begun to dust it off. It was plain to be seen that
he thought more of it than his right eye. And it impressed the other
Injuns, too; they crowded up and studied it. They took turns feelin'
of it, especially the squaws, and I bet if we'd had our dentist outfit
with us we could of got rich right there. The chief's daughter, in
particular, was took with the beauties of that gew-gaw, and she made
signs to us that she wanted one just like it.

"I never noticed he was so rangy," Mike told me, when he'd sized up
the new arrival. "Say, this guy looks good. He's split plumb to the
larynx and I bet he can run, for all of that wind-shield."

I noticed that Mike was pretty grave when he come back in the tent,
and more than once that day I caught him lookin' at the champeen, sort
of studyin' him out. But for that matter this new party was gettin'
his full share of attention; everywhere he went there was a trail of
kids at his heels, and every time he opened his mouth he made a hit
with the grown folks. The women just couldn't keep their eyes offen
him, and I seen that Mike was gettin' pretty sore.