Amos shook his head.  “I’ve just never had time.  It’s a God-awful trip.  No railroad, twenty-mile drive—­”

Levine nodded.  “The Indians are in awful bad shape up there.  Agent’s in it for what he can get, I guess.  Don’t know as I blame him.  The sooner the Indians are gone the better it’ll be for us and all concerned.”

“What’s the matter with ’em?” asked Lydia.

“Consumption—­some kind of eye disease—­starvation—­”

The child shivered and her eyes widened.

“You’d better go on with the ‘Water Babies,’” said John.  “Has Tom fallen into the river yet?”

“No, he’s just seen himself in the mirror,” answered Lydia, burying her nose in the delectable tale again.

“It’s a wonderful story,” said Levine, his black eyes reminiscent.

  “’Clear and cool, clear and cool,
  By laughing shallow and dreaming pool;

* * * * * *

  Undefiled, for the undefiled;
  Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.’

It has some unforgettable verse in it.  Well, as I was saying, Amos, that timber isn’t going to stay up there and rot—­because, I’m going to get it out of there!”

“How?” asked Amos.

“Act of Congress, maybe.  Maybe a railroad will get a permit to go through, eh?  There are several ways.  We’ll die rich, yet, Amos.”

Amos pulled at his pipe and shook his head.  “You will but I won’t.  It isn’t in our blood.”

“Shucks, Amos.  Where’s your nerve?”

Amos looked at Levine silently for a moment.  Then he said huskily,

“My nerve is gone with Patience.  And if she isn’t in heaven, there isn’t one, that’s all.”

Lydia looked up from her story with a quick flash of tragedy in her eyes.

“Well,” said John, smiling at her gently, “if you don’t want to be rich, Amos, Lydia does.  I’ll give her the cottage here, the first fifty thousand I make off of Indian pine lands.”

“I swan,” exclaimed Amos, “if you do that, I’ll buy a cow and a pig and some chickens and I can pretty near make a living right here.”

“You’re foolish, Amos.  This isn’t New England.  This is the West.  All you’ve got to do is to keep your nerve, and any one with sense can make a killing.  Opportunity screams at you.”

“I guess she’s always on my deaf side,” said Amos.

“When I grow up,” said Lydia, suddenly, “I’m going to buy a ship and sail to Africa and explore the jungles.”

“I’ll go with you, Lydia,”, exclaimed Levine, “hanged if I don’t sell my Indian lands for real money, and go right along with you.”

“Mr. Marshall says ‘like Hell you’ll get some Indian lands,’” mused the child.

Both men exclaimed together, “What!”

Lydia was confused but repeated her conversation with Marshall.

“So that’s the way the wind blows,” said Levine.