"You're just in time, Joe．We're going to play cowboys and Indians, and you can be the Indians," one of my cousins said．
"How many Indians?" I asked．
"Oh, about a thousand," he answered, and before I could say no, I was pushed out into the night and became a thousand Indians．Two minutes later I was running in the fields with a group of cowboys behind．The shouts of "After them． Let's catch the killers!" and other such TV play language came into my ears as I ran round a corner and hurried into my Grandpa's car．
"We've got him, boys．Let's go and catch him!"
But no one wanted to come to get me．All of my cousins except one were always very friendly with．It was quiet outside．And I went out of the car to have a look．
Just then I heard a shout, "Bring the rope, and we can burn him．"
"Only Indians burn people．Cowboys．"I stopped just in time． I had almost said, "Cowboys hang people．"
I was tied to a tree, and the cowboys were looking for some wood when my dear mother called, "We're leaving now．"
"Untie me," I shouted．"We're going．"
"Why did Bobby want matches'?" Mum asked when we were in the car．"He was asking Dad whether he had any．"
"Oh, he was just going to get matches? MATCHES? Are you sure he wanted matches?"
Mother was quite sure, and I didn't say any more．
