"Yes," she said simply.

"How long is it that you have had it here?" he demanded.

"Since before I work at your camp," she replied.

"Whew!" said the foreman, "I now understand why she came home
nights."

"To think I never guessed it!" murmured Wingate. Then to Catharine:
"Why didn't you bring it into camp and keep it there day and night
with you, instead of taking these dangerous tramps night and
morning?"

"It is a girl child," she answered.

"Well what of it?" he asked impatiently.

"Your camp no place for girl child," she replied, looking directly
at him. "Your men they rough, they get whisky sometimes. They
fight. They speak bad words, what you call _swear_. I not want her
hear that. I not want her see whisky man."

"Oh, Brown!" said Wingate, turning to his companion. "What a
reproach! What a reproach! Here our gang is--the vanguard of the
highest civilization, but unfit for association with a little
Indian child!"

Brown stood speechless, although in his rough, honest mind he was