and hurried through his toilet. Quick as he tried to be, however, he was
never ready before Kalitan, for, when Ted appeared, the Indian boy had
always had his roll in the snow and was preparing his lines.

Kalitan was perfectly fascinated with the American boy. He thought him
the most wonderful specimen of a boy that he had ever seen. He knew so
much that Kalitan did not, and talked so brightly that being with Ted was
to the Indian like having a book without the bother of reading. There
were some things about him that Kalitan could not understand, to be sure.
Ted talked to his father just as if he were another boy. He even spoke to
Tyee Klake on occasions when that august personage had not only not asked
him a question, but was not speaking at all. From the Thlinkit point of
view, this was a most remarkable performance on Ted's part, but Kalitan
thought it must be all right for a "Boston boy," for even the stern old
chief seemed to regard happy-go-lucky Ted with approval.

Ted, on the other hand, thought Kalitan the most remarkable boy he had
ever met in all his life. He had not been much with boys. His "Lady
Mother," as he always called the gentle, brown-eyed being who ruled his
father and himself had not cared to have her little Galahad mingle with
the rougher city boys who thronged the streets, and had kept him with
herself a great deal. Ted had loved books, and he and his little sister
Judith had lived in a pleasant atmosphere of refinement, playing happily
together until the boy had grown almost to dread anything common or low.
His mother knew he had moral courage, and would face any issue pluckily,
but his father feared he would grow up a milksop, and thought he needed
hardening.

Mrs. Strong objected to the hardening process if it consisted in turning
her boy loose to learn the ways of the city streets, but had consented to