The man stood a moment or two, seeking to pierce the dusk with his own eyes, and then he said in a low voice: "Paul! Paul! Is it you ?" "Yes," replied Paul, in the same guarded tone, "but I don't know who you are." The figure swayed a little and laughed low, but with much amusement.
"It 'pears to me that we are forgot purty soon," it said.

"An' I've worked hard fur a tired man." Then Paul knew the familiar, whimsical tone.

The light had burst upon him all at once.
"Shif'less Sol!" he exclaimed.
"Jest me," said Sol; "an' ain't I about the purtiest Shawnee warrior you ever saw?
Why, Paul, I'm so good at playin' a loafin' savage from some other village that nary a Shawnee o' them all has dreamed that I am what I ain't.

If ever I go back thar in the East, I'm goin' to be a play-actor, Paul." "You can be anything on earth you want to be, Sol!" said Paul jubilantly.
"It was mighty good of you to come." "You'd a-thought Henry would a-come," whispered Sol; "but we decided that he was too tall an' somehow too strikin'-lookin' to come in here ez a common, everyday Injun, so it fell to me to loaf in, me bein' a tired-lookin' sort o' feller, anyway.

But they're out thar in the woods a-waitin', Henry an' Tom Ross an' that ornery cuss, Jim Hart." "I knew that you fellows would never desert me!" exclaimed Paul.
"Why, o' course not!" said Sol.