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The Laughing Man
HeorderedOmbatolookaway,and,sobbing,Ombaobeyedhim.TheLaughingMan’slastact,beforeturninghisfacetothebloodstainedground,wastopulloffhismask.
Thestoryendedthere,ofcourse.(Nevertoberevived.)TheChiefstartedupthebus.Acrosstheaislefromme,BillyWalsh,whowastheyoungestofalltheComanches,burstintotears.Noneofustoldhimtoshutup.Asforme,Iremembermykneeswereshaking.
Afewminuteslater,whenIsteppedoutoftheChief’sbus,thefirstthingIchancedtoseewasapieceofredtissuepaperflappinginthewindagainstthebaseofalamppost.Itlookedlikesomeone’spoppy-petalmask.Iarrivedhomewithmyteethchatteringuncontrollablyandwastoldtogorightstraighttobed.
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