McArthur, puffing on the briar-wood pipe which he was seldom without, waited with interest, but without showing curiosity, for he felt that, in a way, this was a critical moment in their friendship. "If you didn't see me here on the reservation, would you know I was Injun?" Susie demanded, facing him. McArthur regarded her critically. "You have certain characteristics--your rather high cheek-bones, for instance--and your skin has a peculiar tint." "I got an awful complexion on me," Susie agreed, "but I'm goin' to fix that." "Then, your movements and gestures----" "That's from talkin' signs, maybe. I can talk signs so fast that the full-bloods themselves have to ask me to slow up. But, now, if you saw me with my hair frizzled--all curled up, like, and pegged down on top of my head--and a red silk dress on me with a long skirt, and shiny shoes coming to a point, and a white hat with birds and flowers staked out on it, and maybe kid gloves on my hands--would you know right off it was me? Would you say, 'Why, there's that Susie MacDonald--that breed young un from the reservation'?" "No," declared McArthur firmly; "I certainly never should say, 'Why, there's that Susie MacDonald--that breed young un from the reservation.' As a matter of fact," he went on gravely, "I should probably say, 'What a pity that a young lady so intelligent and high-spirited should frizz her hair'!" "Would you?" insisted Susie delightedly. "Undoubtedly," McArthur replied, with satisfying emphasis. "And how long do you think it would take me to stop slingin' the buckskin and learn to talk like you?--to say big words without bitin' my tongue and gettin' red in the face?" "Do I use large words frequently?" McArthur asked in real surprise. "Whoppers!" said Susie. "I do it unconsciously." McArthur's tone was apologetic. "Sure, I know it." "I shrink from appearing pedantic," said McArthur, half to himself. "So do I," Susie declared mischievously. "I don't know what it is, but I shrink from it. Do you think I could learn big words?" "Of course." McArthur wondered where all these questions led. "Did you ever notice that I'm kind of polite sometimes?" "Frequently." "That I say 'If you please' and 'Thank you,' and did you notice the other morning when I asked Old Man Rulison how his ribs was getting along that Arkansaw Red kicked in, and said I was sorry the accident happened?" McArthur nodded. "Well, I didn't mean it." She giggled. "That was just my manners that I was practisin' on him. He was onery, and only got what was comin' to him; but if you're goin' to be polite, seems like you dassn't tell the truth. But Miss Marshall says that 'Thank you,' 'If you please,' and 'Good morning, how's your ribs?' are kind of pass-words out in the world that help you along." "Yes, Susie; that's true." "So I'm tryin' to catch onto all I can, because"--her eyes dilated, and she lowered her voice--"I'm goin' out in the world pretty soon." "To school?" She shook her head.