He watched her until she lifted her tent flap, stooped and disappeared
within. Then he looked at Applehead.
"What's wrong between you two?" he asked the old man quizzically. "Her dog
been licking your cat again, or what?"
"You're danged right he ain't!" Applehead testified boastfully. "Compadre's
got that there dawg's goat, now I'm tellin' yuh! He don't take nothin' off him
ner her neither."
"What you been doing to her, then?" Luck set his empty plate on the ground
beside him and began feeling for the makings of a cigarette. "Way she
side-stepped you, I know there must be SOMETHING."
"Well, now, I ain't done a danged thing to that there squaw! She ain't got any
call to go around givin' me the bad eye." He looked at the breakfasting
company and then again at Luck, and gave an almost imperceptible backward jerk
of his head as he got awkwardly to his feet and strolled away toward the
milling horses in the remuda.
So when Luck had lighted his fresh-rolled cigarette he followed Applehead
unobtrusively. "Well, what's on your mind?" he wanted to know when he came up
with him.
"Well, now, I don't want you to think I'm buttin' in on your affairs, Luck,"
Applehead began after a minute, "but seein' as you ast me what's wrong, I'm
goin' to tell yuh straight out.
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