She started at the unexpected sound of his voice, yet uplifted the
welcome water to her mouth, while Hampton, observing it all closely,
could but remark the delicate shapeliness other hand.

"If that old fellow was her father," he reflected soberly, "I should
like to have seen her mother."

"Thank you," she said simply, handing back the canteen, but without
lifting her eyes again to his face. "I was so thirsty." Her low tone,
endeavoring to be polite enough, contained no note of encouragement.

"Was Gillis your father?" the man questioned, determined to make her
recognize his presence.

"I suppose so; I don't know."

"You don't know? Am I to understand you are actually uncertain whether
this man was your father or not?"

"That is about what I said, was n't it? Not that it is any of your
business, so far as I know, Mr. Bob Hampton, but I answered you all
right. He brought me up, and I called him 'dad' about as far back as I
can remember, but I don't reckon as he ever told me he was my father.
So you can understand just what you please."

"His name was Gillis, was n't it?"

The girl nodded wearily.

"Post-trader at Fort Bethune?"