“I know thet; but please don’t do it, Chita. We’d all be lookin’ after you an’ couldn’t do like we would if they wasn’t a woman along.”
“Perhaps you are right,” she admitted. “Gosh! Why wasn’t I born a boy?”
“I’m shore glad you wasn’t.”
Shoz-Dijiji, seeing Luke riding early and alone straight in his direction, felt that once again, after long forgetfulness, Usen had remembered him. He knew that the youth would come only as far as the horses pastured in the east pasture, and so he rode down and came through the gate to meet the cowboy. The willows in the draw screened them from each other’s sight until Luke spurred up the steep bank of the wash and came face to face with the Apache.
“Hello, there!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What you doin’ here?”
“I want you take word to Wichita,” said Shoz-Dijiji. “The Indian Agent is buying cattle that are stolen from her. I saw it yesterday, on the reservation. You tell her?”
“We jest got word of the same bunch, I reckon,” replied Luke. “We’re all ridin’ out after ’em now. Which way was they headin’ when you saw them?”
“Toward the Agency.”
“Thanks a lot, Shoz-Dijiji,” said Luke. “I’ll tell her anyway when I see her about your sendin’ the word to her.”
“No,” said the Apache. “Do not tell her who sent the word.”