gets damn' sick hear that talk all time. Bimeby he marree som' girl, then
what for you? He don' maree yoh, eh? He don' lov' yoh; he think too good for
maree Indian girl. Me, I not think like that. I, Ramon Chavez, I think proud
to lov, yoh. Ramon--"

"I not think Wagalexa Conka marry me." The girl was turning stubborn under his
importunities. "Wagalexa Conka my brother--my friend. I tell you plenty time.
Now I tell no more."

"Ramon loves yoh so moch," he pleaded, and smiled to himself when he saw her
turn toward toward him again. The love-talk--that was what a woman likes best
to hear! "Yoh say yoh lov' Ramon jus' little bit!"

"I not say now. When I say I be sure I say truth."

"All right, then I be sad till yoh lov' me. Yoh maybe be happy, yoh know
Ramon's got heavy heart for yoh."

"I plenty sorry, you be sad for me," she confessed demurely. "I lov' yoh so
moch! I think nothing but how beautiful my sweetheart is. I not tease yoh no
more. Tell me, how long Luck says he stay out here? Maybe yoh hear sometimes
he's going for taking pictures in town?"

"I not hear."

"Going home, maybe? You mus' hear little bit. Yoh tell me, sweetheart; what's
he gone do when roundup's all finish? Me, I know she's finish las' week. Looks
like he's taking pictures out here all summer! You hear him say something,
maybe?"