He introduced the Happy Family and Applehead to her and to her
husband, Lite Avery, and her father. He pulled a skinny individual forward and
announced that this was Pete Lowry, one of the Great Western's crack
cameramen; and another chubby, smooth-cheeked young man he presented as Tommy
Johnson, scenic artist and stage carpenter. And he added with a smile for the
whole bunch, "We're going to produce some real stuff from now on believe me,
folks!"
In the confusion and the mild clamor of the absence-bridging questions and
hasty answers, two persons had no part. Old Applehead, hard-ridden by the
uneasy consciousness of his treason to Luck, leaned against a porch post and
sucked hard at the stem of an empty pipe. And just beyond the corner out of
sight but well within hearing, Annie-Many-Ponies stood flattened against the
wall and listened with fast-beating pulse for the sound of her name, spoken in
the loved voice of Wagalexa Conka. She, the daughter of a chief and Luck's
sister by tribal adoption--would he not miss her: from among those others who
welcomed him? Would he not presently ask: "Where is Annie-Many-Ponies?" She
knew just how he would turn and search for her with his eyes.
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