Annie-Many-Ponies did not glance at him at all, so far as one could discover;
yet she was the first to sense trouble in the air, and withdrew herself from
the company and sat apart, wrapped closely in her crimson shawl that matched
well the crimson bows on her two shiny braids.
Luck, keenly alive to the moods of his people, looked at her inquiringly.
"Come on up by the fire, Annie," he commanded gently. "What you sitting away
off there for? Come and eat--I want you to work today."
Annie-Many-Ponies did not reply, but she rose obediently and came forward in
the silent way she had, stepping lightly, straight and slim and darkly
beautiful. Applehead glanced at her sourly, and her lashes drooped to hide the
venom in her eyes as she passed him to stand before Luck
"I not hungry," she told Luck tranquilly, yet with a hardness in her voice
which did not escape him, who knew her so well. "I go put on makeup."
"Wear that striped blanket you used last Saturday when we worked up there in
Tijeras Canon. Same young squaw makeup you wore then, Annie." He eyed her
sharply as she turned away to her own tent, and he observed that when she
passed Applehead she took two steps to one side, widening the distance between
them.
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