Longarm and the Shoshoni silver

The three gals joined in once all the menfolk had been served. Longarm wasn't surprised, or displeased, to see

Tupombi pull her chair up to his table. He'd picked that table with a view to jawing some more with the jehu and shotgun man. They seemed to want to talk more about some gals they knew up at the Montana end of their run, until Tupombi joined them and they had to talk cleaner. So they all about agreed those missing scouts could have simply gotten lost after bragging they knew more than they really did about these parts. At that point a Mormon kid in a straw hat and bib overalls came in to ask which one of them might be Deputy Long.

When Longarm pled guilty the kid came over to hand him a sheaf of neatly handwritten papers, saying he worked for Bishop Reynolds and that these papers had to be signed before they went into the county records.

Longarm told the kid to sit a spell while he read what he and Miss Tupombi were supposed to sign. When the shotgun man asked the young Saint if he'd like some coffee, the kid turned the jest back on him by saying he'd rather have a snort of Napoleon brandy, if they had any. They then decided to talk to him as they might to any good old boy.

Longarm paid little attention, at first, while he scanned the fairly accurate transcript of his early conversation with Bishop Reynolds. The church elder and county deputy had a sharp ear and a good memory for what he heard. Longarm signed and passed the papers and his indelible pencil on to Tupombi, warning her to read the page she was supposed to sign before she did so. Just then he heard something about Indians across the table.

He swung around imd asked the Mormon kid to repeat that last part about smoke talk. So the Mormon kid said, "Jim Colgan, riding for the Circle Bar, saw it. They're gentiles but otherwise decent enough. Jim rode in special to warn anyone who hadn't noticed. Seems the Shoshoni have been sending smoke signals from the hogbacks over to the east. You can see way out across the range and over miles of the Overland Trail from any of them high hogbacks, you know."

The jehu and his shotgun man had heard all that the first time. After the kid had repeated it for Longarm the jehu shrugged and said, "Well, they can't be sending smoke signals about us, and them government men are down the other way, by Club Creek."

Lx)ngarm muttered grimly, "Another party headed north just a few hours ago. Do any of you gents know another professional guide who, answers to Rhinegold? Ira Rhinegold, I think he said his name was."

Nobody there had ever heard of Dame Flora's guide, let alone Dame Flora and those other Scotch pilgrims. The shotgun man opined, "Anyone else out yonder with eyes in his head would have seen as much smoke rising as that cowhand Colgan."

Longarm nodded grimly and said, "I know. So where are they, if that smoke talk inspired that cowhand to head back this way?"

The shotgun man suggested, "Same place them two missing scouts from that other party wound up?"

Longarm sighed. "I sure hope none of 'em wound up where white folks have been known to wind up during a real rising. Two of the folks we're jawing about are women, and nobody deserves to wind up the way I've found more than one poor soul, sort of scattered out on the range."

Tupombi handed the signed papers back, smiling sort of uncertainly, as she murmured, "It's not our fault. After Taiowa told Kokyangwuti to fashion us real people, she asked Sotuknang to give us our share of air, water, and earth. But he gave us hunting grounds surrounded on all sides by strangers, strangers who always wanted to fight us!"

Longarm dryly muttered, "Or vice versa. Are you trying to tell us you Comanche and your Shoshoni cousins haven't killed more strangers, red or white, than all the other nations combined?"

She smiled sweetly and replied, 'That's true, and I counted coup on my mother's people. Our young men are fierce as

Real Bear and sly as Old Man Coyote and, as you just said, the Shoshoni are Ho too!"

Longarm got to his feet, saying, "Excuse me, folks. I got to get it on up the trail and see about some Scotch folk now."

But as he headed out the archway, slipping his frock coat back on over his gun rig, Tupombi tagged along, demanding, "Where do you think you are going, to do what, at this hour? Hear me, Custis, my Shoshoni cousins may not be after anyone at all. Sometimes smoke talk is no more than idle gos-

Sip.

He told her, "First I'm going up to fetch my McClellan and Winchester. Then I reckon I'll ride out on that roan, tired as it may be. For the paint would be too easy to spot at a distance in the moonlight."

She followed him up the stairs, protesting, "Don't be such a dumb honaheyheya ! My Shoshoni cousins are not supposed to be on the warpath. If they are not, there is nothing to worry about. If they are, those other Taibo are already dead, and how are they supposed to answer you if you ride in circles after them in the dark?"