and kissed him. Derek's pipe had gone out and he refilled it, cautiously striking a match and shielding it under his coat. But he had in mind the senses of the white man, not the brown. In an instant the face of every Indian was turned towards him; Jammery got up and came over.
"It's you, is it, Mr. Vale?" he said. "I saw the light on your face, and recognized you. It's nice in the orchard, isn't it, since the rain?"
"Yes. I was just taking a stroll."
"I hope you won't mind us having a little game. Just a few dollars pass between us of an evening."
"I don't mind. I'll come over and watch you for a bit."
Jammery's eyebrows went up, but he answered politely: "Yes, do. We'd be pleased to have you, and I can offer you a glass of whiskey that's not too bad if you would not be above drinking with Indians."
Derek gave a reckless laugh. "Above drinking with Indians! Why should I be? You're my brothers-in-law now, aren't you. All one family!"
"Yes, I suppose that's so."
Derek caught him by the arm. "Come along, then, brother-in-law, let's have a drink together. I've been drinking for two days, but that doesn't matter."
"I guess you're the sort that can stand a lot," said Jammery, admiringly. "Half a dozen drinks would make those fellows wild, and even I couldn't stand what you can."
"I'm as sober as a judge," said Derek, truculently.
"Anyone can see that. I'm glad I have something respectable to offer you."
The men at the table showed no surprise at Derek's advent, but the old squaw, after a sharp look into Jammery's face, slammed the door of the shack. Enoch, a quiet, slow Indian, rose and offered his place on the bench to Derek.
