Once where the way was clear he stopped, and waited for her to come alongside, but Rachel stopped and waited also, her eyes hungrily searching his face with the look a dog has for his master.

Good Indian read the meaning of that look, and went on, and turned no more toward her until he reached his horse.
"You'd better go on to camp, and stay there, Rachel," he said, as casually as he could.

"No trouble will come to you." He hesitated, biting his lip and plucking absently the tangles from the forelock of his horse.

"You sabe grateful ?" he asked finally.

And when she gave a quick little nod, he went on: "Well, I'm grateful to you.