Judge Stone used his gavel again. "Witness will refrain from cursing on the stand."

The audience kept murmuring and twisting and looking at the blond-haired woman. Nora was unmoving and expressionless with her dark-ringed eyes. Fleetingly, she reminded me of my wife, Laura-why, I don't know, except that she looked fragile, as if it wouldn't take much to make her vanish.

Pretending delicacy, almost simpering, John said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Goback, but your wife hardly looks like an Indian."

"She's got just as much Indin blood as I do. She colors her hair."

This caused a few titters, and one of the women jurors showed an open look of disapproval.

"Why does your wife color her hair?"

"I wouldn't know," Goback said grudgingly. "But she's ashamed of her blood, tryin to pass for white. And I know she's ashamed of me."

"How do you know that?”

”She told me. More'n once."

"I want to be absolutely clear about this. Your own wife told you that she was ashamed of you, personally, and that she wanted to pass for white."

"Yes sir."

Smiling John looked surprised at this. "And how did you respond?"

"I bought different clothes and a new car, but I can't keep up with her. I ain't nothin but an old cattle wrangler. I can't change that. Can't help what I am. But I figure I deserve to have a faithful wife like any man."