“Yeh,” said Arnold Hatch. “Likewise:
“There’s Seminole and Shawnee,
Apache, Agawam.
There’s Agua and Pawnee,
Walonga, Waukeetom.”
He knew his Oklahoma.
“Oh!” exclaimed Maxine, in a little burst of fury; and stamped her foot down hard. Squ-ush! said something underfoot. “Oh!” said Maxine again; in surprise this time. October was a dry month. She peered down. Her shoe was wet. A slimy something clung to it. A scummy something shone reflected in the moonlight. She had not lived ten years in Oklahoma for nothing. Arnold Hatch bent down. Maxine bent down. The greasy wet patch lay just