"
"You had a lot of faith in me, didn't you?" he said, incredulously.
"You believed in a man you'd never seen."
"Your father had a picture of you," she said, looking straight at him.
"It was taken when you were fifteen, just before you left the ranch.
It showed a boy with a cynical face and brooding, challenging eyes.
But in spite of all that I thought I detected signs of promise in the
face. I was certain that if you were managed right you could be
reformed."
"You _were_ certain," he said significantly. "What do you think now?"
"I haven't altered my opinion." Her gaze was steady and challenging.
"Of course," she added, blushing faintly; "I believe I was a little
surprised when you came and I saw that you had grown to be a man. You
see, I had looked at your picture so often that I rather expected to
see a boy when you came. I had forgotten those thirteen years. But it
has been said that a man is merely a grown-up boy and there is much
truth in that. Despite your gruff ways, your big voice, and your
contemptible way of treating people, you are very much a boy. But I am
still convinced that you are all right at heart. I think everybody is,
and the good could be brought forward if someone would take enough
interest in the subject."
"Then you take an interest in me?" said Calumet, grinning scornfully.
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