They come about three or four
minutes apart."
Luck thought a minute, scowling off across the arroyo. Not even to Applehead,
bound to him by closer ties than anyone there, did he ever reveal his thoughts
completely.
"All right--I'll attend to them," he said finally. "Don't say anything to the
bunch; these things aren't helped by talk. Get into your old cowman costume
and use that big gray you rode in that drive we made the other day. I'm going
to pick up the action where we left off when it turned cloudy. Tomorrow or
next day I want to move the outfit back to the ranch. There's quite a lot of
town stuff I want to get for this picture."
Applehead looked at him uncertainly, tempted to impress further upon him the
importance of safeguarding the morals of his company. But he knew Luck pretty
well--having lived with him for months at a time when Luck was younger and
even more peppery than now. So he wisely condensed his reply to a nod, and
went back to the breakfast fire polishing his bald bead with the flat of his
palm. He met Annie-Many-Ponies coming to ask Luck which of the two pairs of
beaded moccasins she carried in her hands he would like to have her wear.
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