Tom restlessly. "But I can’t investigate the problem until Ator is clean."
"Then investigate something else, Tom," said Damon Swift. "Perhaps you and Bud could drive into town and meet that ‘prophet’ Chow’s friend told you about—the one who had raised objections to the dig on Purple Mesa. We have yet to understand the connection between the mesa and these other attacks, you know."
"All right, Dad," Tom responded. "I’ll ask Chow and Jessee along with us—Jessee said she had a day off from the library."
In the company car available to Tom, he and Bud drove into Tenderly, with Chow occupying about two-thirds of the back seat. After picking up Jessee Thunder Lake at the house trailer she lived in, they were guided by Jessee to the town limits, pulling to a stop at an ancient gas station that had been converted into an auto detailing shop.
A teenage boy stood nearby as the four got out of the car, holding a paint sprayer. The embroidery on his grease-smeared once-white shirt read Kevin.
"Hello, Kevin," said Jessee. The response was a nod that was barely polite. "Is your grandpa inside?"
The youth frowned, and for a moment it seemed he would refuse to answer. "Ye-ah," he finally drawled. "Pretty busy though."
"Of course, with all this booming business," Jessee responded. The lot was almost empty.
Kevin scowled but said nothing more as they entered the dimly lit office. After a moment a door opened and a skeletal old man with long stone-colored hair entered the room. He glared at the four of them through smudged glasses with thick black frames.
"S’prised to see you here, Jessee Thunder Lake," he said. "But I see you’ve taken up keepin’ company with the outsiders."
"Oh, hush!" she scolded. She turned to the others. "This is Joe Cloud Bear. We grew up together here in this town. He’s only been addled the last few years."
"Now, you can say what you please, Jessee," said the man with an injured dignity, "but I have read the signs and spoken with the cloud-spirits, and they have touched my forehead and made me iy-hulchan for our scattered people."
"That means shaman, or medicine-man, in the old language," commented Jessee. "Not that Joe’s pronouncing it right."
"Aw, you allus was the stuck-up one," he retorted.
Chow stepped forward menacingly. "Say there, I’d watch my tone in front of this here lady!"
Joe Cloud Bear snorted. "No business o’ yours, you hat-wearer! I hear she turned you down about as many times as they’s moons in the sky to a firewater drinker."
Before Chow could puzzle out the meaning of this expression, Tom intervened. "Mr. Cloud Bear, we’re not here to be disrespectful. We just thought you might be able to help us with some information."
"Oh, I’ll bet th’ farm on that." The man’s eyes narrowed. "I know who y’are, Tom Swift. You and your pa own that big atom ranch that’s eatin’ up the ground out by Darlita’s. That land is ours, y’know."
"Not according to the government," said Bud. Cloud Bear’s hostile attitude was beginning to grate on him.
"Like I care what th’ occupation gov’mint has to say about things." The old man turned his back on them contemptuously and began to restock some shelves.
Tom took a stab in the dark. "I understand you know Oi-Pah, sir."
The man continued to work, but more slowly. "And jus’ what would you know of the Crow-Black-As-Night-Shadow?"
"Just that he’s an ancient, powerful spirit; and some say you’ve seen him yourself." Tom paused strategically. "But I guess it’s just foolish talk."
Joseph Cloud Bear turned about angrily. "Sure I seen him! Kevin an’ I, we both seen him up against the stars. That’s how we know we’ve been chosen for the revelation! That, and—well, I got my ways."
Tom approached cautiously. "Sir, I believe what you say. But I think there may be others, bad people, who are trying to take advantage of you. I’ve already had attempts made on my life, and you—and your grandson—could be in
"Then investigate something else, Tom," said Damon Swift. "Perhaps you and Bud could drive into town and meet that ‘prophet’ Chow’s friend told you about—the one who had raised objections to the dig on Purple Mesa. We have yet to understand the connection between the mesa and these other attacks, you know."
"All right, Dad," Tom responded. "I’ll ask Chow and Jessee along with us—Jessee said she had a day off from the library."
In the company car available to Tom, he and Bud drove into Tenderly, with Chow occupying about two-thirds of the back seat. After picking up Jessee Thunder Lake at the house trailer she lived in, they were guided by Jessee to the town limits, pulling to a stop at an ancient gas station that had been converted into an auto detailing shop.
A teenage boy stood nearby as the four got out of the car, holding a paint sprayer. The embroidery on his grease-smeared once-white shirt read Kevin.
"Hello, Kevin," said Jessee. The response was a nod that was barely polite. "Is your grandpa inside?"
The youth frowned, and for a moment it seemed he would refuse to answer. "Ye-ah," he finally drawled. "Pretty busy though."
"Of course, with all this booming business," Jessee responded. The lot was almost empty.
Kevin scowled but said nothing more as they entered the dimly lit office. After a moment a door opened and a skeletal old man with long stone-colored hair entered the room. He glared at the four of them through smudged glasses with thick black frames.
"S’prised to see you here, Jessee Thunder Lake," he said. "But I see you’ve taken up keepin’ company with the outsiders."
"Oh, hush!" she scolded. She turned to the others. "This is Joe Cloud Bear. We grew up together here in this town. He’s only been addled the last few years."
"Now, you can say what you please, Jessee," said the man with an injured dignity, "but I have read the signs and spoken with the cloud-spirits, and they have touched my forehead and made me iy-hulchan for our scattered people."
"That means shaman, or medicine-man, in the old language," commented Jessee. "Not that Joe’s pronouncing it right."
"Aw, you allus was the stuck-up one," he retorted.
Chow stepped forward menacingly. "Say there, I’d watch my tone in front of this here lady!"
Joe Cloud Bear snorted. "No business o’ yours, you hat-wearer! I hear she turned you down about as many times as they’s moons in the sky to a firewater drinker."
Before Chow could puzzle out the meaning of this expression, Tom intervened. "Mr. Cloud Bear, we’re not here to be disrespectful. We just thought you might be able to help us with some information."
"Oh, I’ll bet th’ farm on that." The man’s eyes narrowed. "I know who y’are, Tom Swift. You and your pa own that big atom ranch that’s eatin’ up the ground out by Darlita’s. That land is ours, y’know."
"Not according to the government," said Bud. Cloud Bear’s hostile attitude was beginning to grate on him.
"Like I care what th’ occupation gov’mint has to say about things." The old man turned his back on them contemptuously and began to restock some shelves.
Tom took a stab in the dark. "I understand you know Oi-Pah, sir."
The man continued to work, but more slowly. "And jus’ what would you know of the Crow-Black-As-Night-Shadow?"
"Just that he’s an ancient, powerful spirit; and some say you’ve seen him yourself." Tom paused strategically. "But I guess it’s just foolish talk."
Joseph Cloud Bear turned about angrily. "Sure I seen him! Kevin an’ I, we both seen him up against the stars. That’s how we know we’ve been chosen for the revelation! That, and—well, I got my ways."
Tom approached cautiously. "Sir, I believe what you say. But I think there may be others, bad people, who are trying to take advantage of you. I’ve already had attempts made on my life, and you—and your grandson—could be in
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