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The place was in great confusion. The shooting, first of the Indians and then of the soldiers, had thoroughly waked up the town. The center of the activity seemed to be around the Mexican camp and when they reached the outskirts of the crowd that was jostling together in the street, they realized that the Mexicans were trapped, that if they had been unwise enough to start something they were outnumbered three to one. Here and there were Feather-in-the-Wind’s braves, ready for any emergency. “Oh, well! See here. I’ll lend ye my blouse. Put it on and run down fer yer clo’es.” Johnny Blossom thought that the room had become stiller than ever. A strange, wonderful feeling swept over him. There was something serious, something that he alone was to be responsible for, something expected of him that no one, no other person, could help him with..
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
“Indeed?” Aunt Grenertsen looked at the little old stamp dubiously, turning it round and round. “But didn’t you have an awful time?” Bim! Boom! How the great bells chimed! “A bunch of armed Mexicans! They had camped for supper. I figgered that they were coming on up here to-night, so I beat it straight for you. Bet Dad’s got a search party out huntin’ me right now!”.
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