“I told you I have been over here a good many times and I know all about it. I have talked with some of the braves and they think I’m almost fit to be received into the tribe.” Kit Carson spoke quietly, and yet there was a tone in his voice that caused Reuben to glance sharply at him. There was no change, however, in the expression of the face of the scout, and as apparently he did not wish to continue the conversation the subject was dropped. Not long afterward, however, both trappers were welcomed into the Indian village. The suspicion which possessed Reuben he was not able entirely to conceal. Even the dogs that came sniffing about his feet seemed to be treacherous. Few words were spoken to him, although his companion was cordially received and the statement which he had recently made to Reuben was manifestly confirmed. The Indians all looked upon him as a friend, and in the spirit of friendship bade him and his companion welcome. Reuben, who was eager to be back in camp, found it difficult to understand why Kit Carson insisted upon remaining longer in the village. Indeed, an hour elapsed before he gave the word and the journey was resumed. “I’m going to marry the daughter of the chief,” said Kit Carson, speaking almost as if he were referring to some ordinary occurrence. “What!” exclaimed Reuben, as he spoke gazing in amazement at his companion. “That’s just what I’m going to do,” said Kit Carson, smiling slightly at the astonishment of his friend. “But I don’t see——” began Reuben. “No, you don’t see, but I do, and that’s enough.” “Well, you’re the one to be pleased,” said Reuben. “I wish you much joy.” “Thank you,” replied the scout, laughing quietly. “I reckon some of my friends back at Pain Court would think I was out of my head to marry an Indian squaw. From the expression on your face, Reuben, I can see that you, too, have something of the same idea in your mind.” Reuben did not respond, and for a time the two men continued in silence. “I have known that little Indian girl,” explained Kit Carson, after a long silence, “more than a year. She is as pretty as a picture and as good as she is pretty. It was a long time before the old chief would give her to me, but to-night he told me that he had decided that if I wanted her for my wife and would promise that she might stay in the village while I was trapping he would not oppose me any longer. And he doesn’t like the white men, either,” he added with a laugh. “How is it that he is willing for you to have her, then, if he doesn’t like the whites?” “Oh, he has a notion,” replied Kit Carson simply, “that he can trust me. He says if I say I will do a thing I don’t try to lie out of it.” “He’s right about that,” said Reuben warmly. “That’s just the way everybody that knows you feels.” “Thank you.” There was a tender expression in the eyes of the young scout that prevented Reuben from making any further protest against the action of his friend.