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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Heritage of the Sioux"

Things is gittin' mighty funny when a danged squaw
kin straddle my horses and ride 'em to death, and sass me when I say a word
agin it--now I'm tellin' yuh!"
He went mumbling rebellion that was merely the effervescing of a mood which
would pass with the words it bred, to the store-room which Annie-Many-Ponies
had called the prop-room. He found there, piled upon a crude shelf, many
little bundles of wire folded neatly and with the outer end wound twice around
to keep each bundle separate from the others. Applehead snorted at what he
chose to consider a finicky streak in his secret idol, Luck Lindsay; but he
took two of the little bundles and went and wired the wagon tongue. And in the
work he found a salve of anticipatory pleasure, so that he ended the task to
the humming of the tune he had heard a movie theatre playing in town as he
rode by on his way home.

CHAPTER II. THE DAUGHTER OF A CHIEF
In spite of Andy Green's plea for delay until they knew what Luck meant to do,
Applehead went on with his energetic preparations for a spring roundup of his
own. Some perverse spirit seemed to possess him and drive him out of his
easy-going shiftlessness.


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