Chapter II

10

STRANGE FISH

“Nix, you're a squaw,” said Johnny Toms, alarmed.

“I am,” said Paris, “a former member of the Women's Army Corps. I have been shot at. I have been bombed on. I have seen a thing called an invasion, which included more hell than you will ever see here in Oklahoma.

So count me in.”

“Heap no good,” muttered Johnny Toms. “Should have kept mouth shut.” He walked away. “Come on. Lucky I saddled horse for you.”

“You fake!” Paris said.

COWBOYS came out of the darkness. They came silently, with expressionless faces. Most of them were Indians or part Indians, but they were as civilized as anybody.

“Nobody prowling around?” Johnny Toms asked them.

They said there wasn't, apparently.

“Thought we heard somebody,” Johnny Toms told Paris. “That's why I asked you not to make any noise.”

They mounted the horses. The horses, Paris discovered, were necessary because Johnny Toms intended to approach the camp on Sugar Creek from the rear. This meant circling, a ride of about four miles. It was a wild section, and there was no road fit for an automobile.

Very little was said during the ride. They followed cattle trails, and the dust underfoot made a thick, silencing carpet. There were Paris, Johnny Toms and four cowboys.

They rode the horses to within a quarter of a mile of the camp.

“There's no need of fooling around about this,” Johnny Toms whispered. “Joe, you stay with the broncs.”

Paris was glad he didn't try to make her stay with the horses. She wouldn't have done it. The excitement was doing something that pleased her. It was driving the fear away.

They walked in silence.

“Skulk,” Johnny Toms warned.

They drew near the camp. It was quite dark now. Paris could see firelight through the trees.

“Fred and Little Toe take the other side. Little Toe, you can croak like a frog. Do it three times,” Johnny Toms whispered. “Buck and Frosty stay with us.”

Fred and Little Toe went away. Their quietness surprised Paris. Indians really can move silently, she thought.

She watched the campfire. There seemed to be a tent of tan canvas, but she could see no one. The fire was a bed of embers, as if it had burned low. A tree frog croaked three times. Little Toe.

Johnny Toms said, “Back me up.”