"A breed kid who stutters?"
"What do you mean?"
"He's part Indian."
"He's not a reservation Indian. He's a citizen, and--"
"Then you did know," Tesno said.
"He doesn't look Indian," Sam put in. "He'll be all right if he keeps
his mouth shut."
"If you know him at all, you know he won't," Tesno said. "And that
bottle of lemon pop! Seems to me you went out of your way to pick a man
nobody will listen to."
"You wanted a deputy," Sam grumbled. "The town will be better
patrolled. Aren't you ever satisfied?"
"Never!" Persia said, laughing. "That's one of the things I like about
him." Her eyes sought his, and they were amused and affectionate and
possessive. "How about a game of three-handed euchre?" she said.