talking to young people, and found it a strain. But in the calm intervals, between the surges of wind, he could still hear Lorena, as could the children, and she was still screaming. Then the wind would return and whisk her screams away.
'Do you ever can-can-cry, mister?' the bold Georgie asked.
'Seldom, son, very seldom,' Goodnight replied.
'Is it but-but-because you have a but-but-beard?' Georgie asked. He liked the old man, though he certainly didn't have much to say.
'Yes, I expect that's the reason,' Goodnight said.
There was an interval. The wind lay, briefly. They heard no screams.
'She's stopped. Do you think I should go see about her, Mr. Goodnight?' Clarie asked.
'No, let's just wait,' Goodnight said.
'I expect she'll come and get us when she wants us.' They were all silent for a minute, as the wind blew.
'It's chilly weather to go barefoot in,' Goodnight said. 'Don't none of you have shoes?' 'We got a pair apiece,' the older of the boys replied. 'Ma don't like us to put 'em on until we get to school, though.
She thinks it's wasting shoes.' 'Go-go-got any horses that's for knowledge-knowledge-kids to ride?' Georgie asked. 'I but-but-been wantin' a horse.' 'Georgie, it's Mr. Goodnight,' Clarie said, mortified. Georgie had practically come right out and asked him for a horse, with their mother screaming in the house.
'That's fine, miss,' Goodnight said. 'A cowboy needs a horse.' 'Well, do-do-do you have one, more-more- mister?' Georgie asked.
Clarie resolved to box him soundly, when she got the opportunity. She had an urge to go in the house and see about her mother, but she hesitated to leave Georgie alone with Mr. Goodnight.
There was no telling what he might ask for next.
'Why, I'll have to inspect my herd,' Goodnight said, amused. 'I wouldn't want to give a cowboy like you just any horse.' 'More-more-make it brown, if you've go-go-got a brown one,' Georgie said. 'But-but-brown's my from- from-favorite can-can-color!' His stutter became worse when he got excited.
'Would you come back in, please? All of you?' Lorena asked, from the doorway. 'I'm so sorry I drove you out in the wind.' 'It ain't the first breeze I've felt,' Goodnight remarked. Evidence of her sobbing was in Lorena's face, but she had put a comb in her hair and seemed composed, more composed than she had been even when he arrived.
'You children go into the bedroom. You, too, Clarie,' she said. 'I have to talk to Mr.
Goodnight a minute more. Then, we'll try to get back to normal.' 'Ma, Georgie's been asking Mr.
Goodnight for a horse,' Clarie blurted out.
She didn't want to go in the bedroom. She wanted to report on Georgie's misbehavior first.
'Where he's going, there are plenty of horses,' Lorena said. 'Don't question me now.
Go in the bedroom.' The children went, obediently.
'I'm sending them off to Nebraska,' Lorena said, the minute she knew the bedroom door was closed. 'I have a friend there. She'll take them till this is over.
'I thought it was over, or I wouldn't have been living nowhere near here,' she added. 'He told me if I ever had children, he'd come and burn them, like he burned that little boy. It was the last thing he said to me, before he and his Mexicans left.' 'I should have stopped that man a long time ago,' Goodnight said.
'You didn't, though,' Lorena said. 'He burned your cowboys, despite you. I won't take a chance with my children.' 'Don't blame you,' Goodnight said.
'You've got a fine brood. I like that talkative little boy, he takes up for himself.' 'He's going to Nebraska, and so are the rest of them,' Lorena said. 'As soon as I can get them packed and on a train, they're going. Mox Mox is a bad man, Mr. Goodnight.
He's not getting a chance to torment any of mine.' 'I thought all the mean wolves was about killed out, in this country,' Goodnight said. 'I thought that man was dead, or I would have stayed after him. Of course, maybe he is dead. Maybe this manburner is somebody else.' 'I can't take that chance, not with my children,' Lorena said. 'Now my husband's gone too, and it's my fault. He ain't a killer, and he has no business hunting killers with Captain Call, not anymore.' Goodnight felt a little uncomfortable. After all, he had urged the man to go, though it was none of his business. Once again he wondered when he would ever learn not to meddle in other people's business.
The woman was right. Pea Eye was not a killer, and had no business having to deal with a Joey Garza, or a Mox Mox.
'There's something else,' Lorena said. 'I think we ought to close the school, until this ends.
If Mox Mox showed up, he might burn all the children. He's capable of it--he might pen us in and burn us all. I won't risk it for my children or for anybody's.' 'What if I set a guard?' Goodnight asked.
'No,' Lorena said. 'If I had known he was alive, I'd never have started the school. When he's dead, and I know it, there'll be time for studying and teaching. But not until I know he's dead.' 'I better go myself and stop him, then,' Goodnight said. 'That way, when it's done, I'll know it's done, and so will you.' 'Let Captain Call do it,' Lorena said.
'I'm sure that sounds bold. I have no right to give you orders. I've no right even to make suggestions. But you came here and asked what I knew, and I told you. I have seen that man, and you haven't. If I were you, I'd let Captain Call do it.' 'It was my men he burned,' Goodnight said.
'It's my responsibility, not Call's.' Lorena didn't respond. She felt she had overstepped as it was, by saying what she had said. She thought she was right, and had said what she felt.
