“You sing for get those?” he asked.

“Me sing,” she replied dully, beginning almost instantly in soft, nasal tones: 

   “My days are as um grass”—­

Jackrabbit’s face cleared.

“Huh!” he growled in rejoicement.

Immediately Wowkle edged up close to him and together they continued in chorus: 

   “Or as um faded flo’r,
    Um wintry winds sweep o’er um plain,
    We pe’ish in um ho’r.”

“But Gar,” said the man when the song was ended, at the same time taking his pipe away from her, “to-morrow we go missionary—­sing like hell—­get whisky.”

But as Wowkle made no answer, once more a silence fell upon them.

“We pe’ish in um ho’r,” suddenly repeated Jackrabbit, half-singing, half-speaking the words, and rising quickly started for the door.  At the table, however, he halted and inquired:  “All right—­go missionary to-morrow—­get marry—­huh?”

Wowkle hesitated, then rose, and finally started slowly towards him.  Half-way over she stopped and reminded him in a most apathetic manner: 

“P’haps me not stay marry to you for long.”

“Huh—­seven monse?” queried Jackrabbit in the same tone.

“Six monse,” came laconically from the woman.

In nowise disconcerted by her answer, the Indian now asked: 

“You come soon?”

Wowkle thought a moment; then suddenly edging up close to him she promised to come to him after the Girl had had her supper.

“Huh!” fairly roared the Indian, his coal-black eyes glowing as he looked at her.

It was at this juncture that the Girl, after hanging up her lantern on a peg on the outer door, broke in unexpectedly upon the strange pair of lovers.

Dumbfounded, the woman and the man stood gaping at her.  Wowkle was the first to regain her composure, and bending over the table she turned up the light.

“Hello, Billy Jackrabbit!” greeted the Girl, breezily.  “Fixed it?”

“Me fix,” he grunted.

“That’s good!  Now git!” ordered the Girl in the same happy tone that had characterised her greeting.

Slowly, stealthily, Jackrabbit left the cabin, the two women, though for different reasons, watching him go until the door had closed behind him.

“Now, Wowkle,” said the Girl, turning to her with a smile, “it’s for two to-night.”

Wowkle’s eyelashes twinkled up inquisitorially.

“Huh?”

“Yep.”

Wowkle’s eyes narrowed to pin-points.

“Come anotha?  Never before come anotha,” was her significant comment.

“Never you mind.”  The Girl voiced the reprimand without the twitching of an eyelid; and then as she hung up her cape upon the wardrobe, she added:  “Pick up the room, Wowkle!”

The big-hipped, full-bosomed woman did not move but stood in all her stolidness gazing at her mistress like one in a dream; whereupon the Girl, exasperated beyond measure at the other’s placidity, rushed over to her and shook her so violently that she finally awakened to the importance of her mistress’ request.