Pa demanded, “Well, what the hell am I gonna do? We’re outa money. One of my boys got a short job, but that won’t feed us. I’m a-gonna go an’ take twenty cents. I got to.”
Black Hat raised his head, and his bristled chin showed in the light, and his stringy neck where the whiskers lay flat like fur. “Yeah!” he said bitterly. “You’ll do that. An’ I’m a two-bit man. You’ll take my job for twenty cents. An’ then I’ll git hungry an’ I’ll take my job back for fifteen. Yeah! You go right on an’ do her.”
“Well, what the hell can I do?” Pa demanded. “I can’t starve so’s you can get two bits.”
Black Hat dipped his head again, and his chin went into the shadow. “I dunno,” he said. “I jes’ dunno. It’s bad enough to work twelve hours a day an’ come out jes’ a little bit hungry, but we got to figure all a time, too. My kid ain’t gettin’ enough to eat. I can’t think all the time, goddamn it! It drives a man crazy.” The circle of men shifted their feet nervously.
TOM STOOD at the gate and watched the people coming in to the dance. A floodlight shone down into their faces. Willie Eaton said, “Jes’ keep your eyes open. I’m sendin’ Jule Vitela over. He’s half Cherokee. Nice fella. Keep your eyes open. An’ see if you can pick out the ones.”
“O.K.,” said Tom. He watched the farm families come in, the girls with braided hair and the boys polished for the dance. Jule came and stood beside him.
“I’m with you,” he said.
Tom looked at the hawk nose and the high brown cheek bones and the slender receding chin. “They says you’re half Injun. You look all Injun to me.”
“No,” said Jule. “Jes’ half. Wisht I was a full-blood. I’d have my lan’ on the reservation. Them full-bloods got it pretty nice, some of ’em.”
“Look a them people,” Tom said.