Applehead, it would seem from his speech upon the subject, would be a much
surprised ex-sheriff--now a deputy--if they were not all captured and scalped,
if not worse, the minute their feet touched the forbidden soil of these demons
in human form, the Navajo Indians.
"If they were not too busy weaving blankets for Fred Harvey," Luck qualified
with his soft Texan drawl and the smile that went with it. "You talk as if
these boys were tourists."
"Yes," added Andy Green maliciously, "here comes a war-party now, boys. Duck
behind a rock, Applehead, they're liable to charge yuh fer them blankets!"
The Happy Family laughed uproariously, to the evident bewilderment of the two
Indians who, swathed in blankets and with their hair knotted and tied with a
green ribbon and a yellow, drove leisurely toward the group in an old wagon
that had a bright new seat and was drawn by a weazened span of mangy-looking
bay ponies. In the back of the wagon sat a young squaw and two papooses, and
beside them were stacked three or four of the gay, handwoven rugs for which
the white people will pay many dollars.
"Buenas dias," said the driver of the wagon, who was an oldish Indian with a
true picturepostal face.
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