"I shouldn't say it was the best idea in the world for you to be wandering through the woods with that young Indian," was Levine's comment when Lydia had finished. "I don't see how you can speak so," cried Lydia, passionately, "when this minute you're taking his pine wood." "Lydia!" said Amos, sharply. "Let her alone, Amos," Levine spoke quietly. "What are you talking about, Lydia?" For a moment, Lydia sat looking at her friend, uncertain how much or how little to say. She had idealized him so long, had clung so long to her faith in his perfection, that a deep feeling of indignation toward him for not living up to her belief in him drove her to saying what she never had dreamed she could have said to John Levine. "The Indians are people, just like us," she cried, "and you're treating them as if they were beasts. You're robbing them and letting them starve! Oh, I saw them! Charlie showed the poor things to me--all sore eyes, and coughing and eating dirt. And you're making money out of them! Maybe the very money you paid our note with was made out of a starved squaw. Oh, I can't stand it to think it of you!" Lydia paused with a half sob and for a moment only the gentle ripple of the waves on the shore and the crickets were to be heard Levine, elbow on knee, chin in hand, looked through the dusk at the shadowy sweetness of Lydia's face, his own face calm and thoughtful. "You're so good and kind to me," Lydia began again, "how can you be so hard on the Indians? Are you stealing Charlie's logs? _Are_ you, Mr. Levine?" "I bought his pine," replied Levine, quietly. "He doesn't believe it. He thinks you're stealing. And he's so afraid of you. He says if he makes a fuss, you'll shoot him. Why does he feel that way, Mr. Levine?" Lydia's thin hands were shaking, but she stood before the Congressman like a small accusing conscience, unafraid, not easily to be stilled. "Lydia! What're you saying!" exclaimed Amos. "Keep out, Amos," said Levine. "We've got to clear this up. I've been expecting it, for some time. Lydia, years ago before the Government began to support the Indians, they were a fine, upstanding race. The whites could have learned a lot from them. They were brave, and honorable, and moral, and in a primitive way, thrifty. Well, then the sentimentalists among the whites devised the reservation system and the allowance system. And the Indians have gone to the devil, just as whites would under like circumstances. Any human being has to earn what he eats or he degenerates. You can put that down as generally true, can't you, Amos?" "You certainly can," agreed Amos. "Now, the only way to save those Indians up there is to kick them out. The strong ones will live and be assimilated into our civilization. The weak ones will die, just like weak whites do." "But how about Charlie's pines?" insisted Lydia.