The boy remained motionless. Was he looking somewhere? No. His small eyes blazed apprehension. Was he signaling? How? No motion. Hmmm. Did his lack of motion signal someone?
Moose hadn’t moved his weapon. His rifle was still aimed out towards the road in the direction of the census teams. The suddenness of the boy’s arrival had stunned him. Now he adjusted his stance and lifted his weapon towards the boy, not aiming at him yet, more just to let the kid know Moose was communicating with him, cautioning him. The boy was no youngster, maybe 13 or 14. He could be a killer at that age.
The rifle reorientation broke the kid’s trance.
Moose finally saw movement. The boy’s right cheek shuddered, inflating and deflating in tiny bursts. Something in his mouth? Was he doing something with his tong
