"Gwan! You ain't afraid of a couple of squaws,
are yuh? Go on and talk to the ladies. Mebby yuh might win a wife if yuh just
had a little nerve!"
Applehead turned and glowered. But Luck was already walking slowly toward the
hogans and looking back frequently, so Applehead contented himself by saying,
"You wait till this yere trip's over, 'fore ye git so dang funny in yore
remarks, young man!" and stalked after Luck, hitching his six-shooter forward
as he went.
At the shed, the Indian who had peered after Pink stood in the doorway and
stared unwinkingly as they came up. Applehead glanced at him sharply from
under his sorrel eyebrows and grunted. He knew him by sight well enough, and
he took it for granted that the recognition was mutual. But he gave no sign of
remembrance. Instead, he asked how much the Indian wanted for the grass the
horses would eat in an hour.
The Indian looked at the two impassively and did not say anything at all; so
Applehead flipped him a dollar.
"Now, what time did them fellows pass here yesterday?" Applehead asked, in the
half Indian, half Mexican jargon which nearly all New Mexico Indians speak.
The Indian looked at the dollar and moved his head of bobbed hair vaguely from
left to right.
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