He shook his head. “No, we need th’ war dance, but th’ war dance kin be ’cause they’re chasin’ the bandits off. An’ the settlers kin be goin’ t’ Californy, steada Texas.”

“So they could have a peace pipe ceremony?” she suggested. “Karl May thinks pipe ceremonies are very important. I think everyone will want to see one.”

“’E got thet right, at least,” Cody mumbled. He drank the rest of his beer. “Lessee . . . I wish’t we had more buffalo. We could hev a buffalo hunt. But them critters is hard ’nuff to control as ’tis, an’ I wouldn’ wanta risk runnin’ ’em on account of they might take a notion t’go through the barreecade inter th’ stands, an’ anyway, there ain’t ’nuff of them t’make a good show. The ones we got was trained from calves, an’ they’re still no picnic t’handle, but at least they kin be controlled pretty reliable.”

He was rambling. She did her best to get him back on the subject. “Well, Leading Fox is an Air Master, why don’t he and I have a shooting contest?” she suggested. “Or . . . you know . . .”

It was an audacious idea. And if she had not trusted Fox and his control of his Elementals, she would not have suggested it.

“. . . he could do knife and perhaps tomahawk tricks with me as his target.” She began to warm to this idea, as Cody’s eyes widened in alarm and his moustache practically stood up by itself. “He could make my outline in arrows or knives. He could split an apple on the top of my head with an arrow or a tomahawk! I could hold things for him to shoot! He could shoot a cigarette out of my mouth!”

Cody stared at her in utter disbelief. “You . . . you’d let him do thet?” he gaped.

“He is an Air Master. He cannot miss as long as his Elementals and mine are making sure all is well,” she pointed out. She grew even more enthusiastic. “We could say we are blood brothers! That is very important in the Winnetou books, and in fact, we are, in a way. We could say that I trust his aim because of that!”

“An . . . you think people’d go fer thet?” He shook his head. “If’n this was back home, people’d hev my hide fer riskin’ your’n that way, with a Injun.”

“It would make people come back again and again,” she said, firmly, sure of her own ground. “But . . . we must ask Fox first. If he is against this, then we won’t do it. But you need to find a way to make the Indians heroes all through the show if you wish to make more money.”

“I’ll think on it.” He shook his head. “It’s a furrin’ way t’ think.”

“You’re in a ‘furrin’ country,” she pointed out.

All he could do was shrug, thank her, and wish her goodnight.