der saw the men near the door bustling to one side, bowing and scraping in an extravagant manner. Twice before Susette had come to the store, and her arrival had been greeted by just such clumsy attempts to do homage to the pretty daughter of a domineering boss. Ordinarily Lander would have marked it a red-letter day and been filled with joy; now he glanced uneasily toward the door marked "Office" and prayed Parker might not emerge.
Then came a flutter of youth and beauty and Miss Susette was standing inside the door, her skirts pulled aside to escape contamination from a small mountain of whisky casks destined to be smuggled by Fort Leavenworth for the Sioux and Assiniboin trade. Lander hoped she would pass into the office.
She spied him and with a little cry of discovery came tripping down the lane formed by the heaped-up trade goods and supplies.
"Why didn't you come to help me in?" she sternly rebuked. "Two of the men had to lift me up."
"Not a hard job for one man," he said, grinning ruefully at her slight, dainty figure and again marveling how the old bear could be her
