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men have.
    â€œYou’re fifteen,” she added. “I expect you’ll soon have a woman of your own. Take my advice and just stay put when she cries. You don’t have to say anything: just don’t leave. If you can just keep your seat until the crying’s over it’ll be better for both of you.”
    I had no comment on that. At the moment I didn’t expect I’d ever have a woman of my own—Iprobably wouldn’t need to worry about the crying part.
    â€œI guess your uncle ran into Rosie,” Ma said.
    I didn’t answer, so she gave me a little poke in the ribs with her elbow.
    â€œMind your manners,” Ma said. “Answer me when I ask a question.”
    â€œHe was going to try and see if she’d pay him fifty dollars to go with the posse,” I said. I didn’t think Uncle Seth would mind if I told that much.
    â€œWhat? Say that again?” Ma asked, so I said it again.
    â€œYou’re just a babe in the woods, Shay,” Ma said. Then she chuckled, kind of deep in her throat.
    â€œRosie don’t pay men fifty dollars,” Ma said. “It’s the other way around—men pay Rosie fifty dollars. Maybe a little less, maybe a little more, depending. But Rosie don’t pay men.”
    I had thought the notion that Rosie McGee would chip in fifty dollars to send Uncle Seth with the posse was a little far-fetched, myself. If the sheriff was only willing to pay him five dollars to go shoot at the Miller gang, why would Rosie McGee want to pay him fifty dollars to do the same job? Of course, the fifty dollars only came up because that was what the sheriff offered to pay Wild Bill Hickok. It seemed like a world of money to me.
    â€œWhat was she supposed to pay Seth the fifty dollars for?” Ma asked. She seemed a lot more cheerful now that we had started talking about Uncle Seth. Even without being there, he was helping to cheer Ma up.
    â€œHe seemed to think she’d want him to catch Jake Miller,” I said. “That’s what he and Mr. Hickok were talking about. Uncle Seth wants to take me and G.T. along with the posse when they go to Stumptown.”
    â€œI heard you slip that in the first time,” Ma said. Marcy was wide awake—she had been trying to crawl lately. Ma put her down on the ground on her belly, to see if she was making any progress with her crawling. Marcy hadn’t made much. She just waved her arms and grunted.
    â€œYou can do it!” Ma said, to encourage her. “Get up on your hands and legs and crawl.”
    Marcy continued to wave her arms and legs and grunt.
    â€œShe’ll figure it out in a few more days,” Ma said. She left Marcy to struggle with the problem.
    â€œYour Uncle Seth don’t know anything about women,” Ma said, looking at me. “He’s God’s fool, where women are concerned. Rosie McGee won’t give him a cent, although it is a fact that she hates Jake Miller.”
    â€œWhy?” I asked.
    She didn’t answer, which meant that in her opinion, why wasn’t any of my business.
    â€œCan we go with the posse, then?” I asked. I was excited at that prospect, but Ma had been so careful about us during the wartime that I didn’t know if there was much hope.
    â€œIf Seth wants to take you, you can go,” Ma said. “But I can’t bear to lose no more boys, so you’ve got to promise to look after G.T.”
    I expected her to tell me to be careful and lookafter myself—when she only asked me to look after G.T. I got my feelings hurt, for a moment. G.T. had always been an expert at looking after himself. Didn’t Ma care about me?
    â€œYou’re the mature one,” Ma said, as if in answer to the question I hadn’t asked. “Seth don’t know anything about women but otherwise he can take care of himself. But G.T. don’t know anything about anything, and besides that he’s reckless. You make