For the rest of their ride, Arlie had ridden with his feet on the bag, or taken it with him whenever he left the stateroom.
Now, Critch heard familiar sounds in the hallway, and he stepped out into it. He said good-morning to Arlie, nodded at Kay and gave a warm smile to Joshie. Then, the four of them started down the stairs, Arlie and Critch in front, Kay walking behind her husband and Joshie behind Critch.
They were nearing the foot of the staircase when there was a scurrying scuffle, an angrily sibilant whispering from the two girls. Arlie whirled around, gave each a long slow look. But their round dolls' faces with the preternaturally widened eyes were prim masks of innocence. So the descent continued, and the foursome continued on into the bar where Tepaha and Ike awaited them.
Drinks were poured for the men, Critch's from a special bottle which Arlie stared at meaningfully. They toasted each other silently, tossed down the liquor at a gulp; thudded their glasses back to the table. Old Ike hoisted himself up from his chair, turned to lead the way into the dining room. And Kay suddenly let out a yell.
'Ouch! God damn, plenty ouch, by God!'
Simultaneously, she began to hop about on one moccasined foot, clutching the other in her hands.
Tepaha leaped forward. Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a vigorous shake; demanded the reason for her outrageous breach of decorum.
'Speak, witless girl! Stop dancing like crazy chicken and explain, or I slap you loose from pants!'
Kay gingerly lowered her foot to the floor, looked murderously at her sister.
'Ol' Joshie stamp on my foot, Grandfather. Hurt like hell.'
'So!' said Tepaha, turning ominously to Joshie. 'Did you stamp on your sister's foot? _Did you?'_
Joshie nodded nervously, sullenly, adding that Kay had invited the attack.
'Ol' Kay say mean things, Grandfather Tepaha. I try to make her stop, but she keep on.'
'That is no excuse,' Tepaha declared sternly. 'One wrong does not right another.' He hesitated, one hand drawn back. 'What were these mean things?'
'Well – ' Joshie fidgeted, her eyes downcast. 'She say – she say – '
'Speak quickly, foolish child!'
'S-she say… she – ' Joshie's voice suddenly strengthened, blurting out the words. 'She say I want ol' Critch to fock my possy! She say my possy no good, so he no fock me!'
Tepaha blinked, let out a stunned grunt. He looked at Ike, a look that silently appealed for help. But his old friend had averted his eyes, and was convulsed by a spasm of coughing.
Helplessly, Tepaha shifted his gaze back to Joshie. 'Such words are spoken only between man and woman,' he said. 'Privately. You will have to be punished.'
His arm arced for a slap. Critch spoke up quickly.
'Pardon me, Grandfather, but Kay spoke the words first. Joshie only repeated them at your request.'
'Well – ' Tepaha hesitated; nodded. 'You speak truth, Critch. Stand forward, Kay.'
'Now, just a God damn minute!' Arlie snapped. 'What about Joshie stomping on Kay's foot? What about that, huh? And' – glaring at Critch. 'Just where the hell you get off buttin' into this? You got nothin' to say about Kay or Joshie neither! She ain't your squaw.'
'Now, Arlie,' Critch said mildly. 'After all, fair is fair – '
'Fair is shit! If Kay gets slapped, then by God Joshie gets it! It's both of 'em or neither!'
Tepaha's face hardened. Arlie put a protective arm around Kay, and Joshie moved closer to Critch. Silence fell over the room as one stubborn glare locked with another. Then, old Ike found his voice, declared firmly that the matter was to be dropped.
'Not another God damn word out o' no one, or by God I'll do a hell of a lot more than slap! Now, they's work to be done an' breakfast t'be et before, so let's get at it.'
He led the way into the dining room.
Tepaha stalked behind him, after a stern glare at the four young people.
Arlie followed, followed by his wife. Critch, trailed by Joshie, entered last. As, of course, was proper for the youngest son.
The meal was a huge one, consisting mainly of meat: steak, pork chops and ribs, slices of venison roast. Along with the meat, there were eggs, cracked-corn porridge, stewed dried fruit, biscuits, cornbread and buckwheat cakes. There was milk also – canned milk. As on many ranches, even today, all effort was concentrated on the production of beef. A cow's milk went to suckle her calf, without a drop's diversion to human beings.
The meal was cooked, and also served, by squaws; kinswomen, by blood or marriage, to the workmen in the Junction's several business establishments: the blacksmith shop, the feed and grain store, and the general store.
There was virtually no talk at the table, everyone emulating Ike and Tepaha in disposing of as much food as possible in the time allotted for breakfast. Critch had failed to do this, in the beginning; fastidiously picking at his food, and feeling a little ill at the gorging of the others. The result was that he had almost collapsed from weakness in midmorning. And by the time the sun was directly overhead, signalling the lunch hour, he had toppled rather than climbed down from his saddle.