I didn't expect to find you here." He was fluent for one of his color--too fluent the other man felt.
Ambrose was sizing him up with interest.
It finally came to him what the man's distinguishing quality was.

It was his open look, an expression almost of benignity, absolutely foreign to the Indian character.

Indians may give their eyes freely to one another, but a white man never sees beneath the glassy surface.
This Indian in look and manner resembled an English country gentleman, much sunburnt; or one of those university-bred East Indian potentates who affect motor-cars and polo ponies.

Oddly enough his candid look affronted Ambrose.

"It isn't natural," he told himself.
"I am Gordon Strange, bookkeeper at Fort Enterprise," the stranger volunteered.
The bookkeeper of a big trading-post is always second in command.
Ambrose understood that he was in the presence of a person of consideration in the country.
"Sit down," he said.