"Who, your father?" I jerked my thumb back up the hill toward the preacher who was warming up for another session, calling in the lambs as he said lou...ly, waving his long arms."No," she said. "He ain't. Uncle, that's what he is, sort of. Our folks died, got a fever las' winter." Sorry," I said. "He treat you all right?"She was silent and hurried back to the wagon and her reedy singing before I could even ask her name.The third fair-haired girl, who might have been seventeen or eighteen, was. Looking around, I started to think about how to get the group back to the arroyo where we'd hidden the Time Machine. I jumped as I felt a hand on my shoulder. The Indian, forgotten until just then, was standing behind me. Looking me in the eye, he offered to hide us in the canyons behind the town.By late evening the small town was crawling with Sheriff's henchman. Houses were invaded and storage areas ransacked by groups of torch-bearing cowboys. I kept watch through the store's front windows.. More

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