"Hold on!" came voices from the crowd. During the reading, they had been watching Lahoma, and her expression promised more than fruitless laughter. "Hold on, Mizzoo, Lahoma's got something up her sleeve!"
Lahoma spoke clearly, that her voice might carry to the confines of the crowd: "Mizzoo, I think you read in that warrant, 'county of Greer, state of Texas'? Didn't you?"
"That's what I done. Here's the words."
"But, you see," returned Lahoma, "that warrant's no good!"
Mizzoo stared at her a moment, then exclaimed violently, "By—" Propriety forbade the completion of his phrase.
The crowd instantly caught her meaning; a shout rose, shrill, tumultuous, broken with laughter. She had reminded them of the subject which a short time ago had engaged all minds.
"It's no good," cried Lahoma triumphantly. She took it from Mizzoo's lax fingers and deliberately tore it from top to bottom.
"I guess I'm a-getting old, sure enough," said Bill. "This is beyond me."
Wilfred looked at Lahoma questioningly. Brick, stupefied by violence done that sacred instrument of civilization, stood rooted to the spot.
Mizzoo was grinning now. "You see," he explained, "word come today that the Supreme Court has at last turned in its decision. Prairie Dog Fork is now Red River, and 'Red River' is only the North Fork of Red River—and that means that Greer County don't belong to Texas, and never did belong to her, but is a part of Oklahoma."