When Luck had eaten and smoked and had ground his cigarette stub under his
heel in the moist earth beside the spring, and had looked at his watch and got
upon his feet with a sigh to say: "Well, boys, let's go," the Happy Family
(who by the way must now be understood as including Lite Avery) sighed also
and pulled their reluctant feet toward them and got up also, with sundry
hitchings-into-place as to gun-belts and sundry resettlings as to hats. They
pulled their horses more reluctant even than their riders--away from the green
grass; resaddled, recinched the packs on the four animals that carried the
camp supplies, gave them a last drink at the little irrigating ditch and
mounted and straggled out again upon the trail of the six whom they seemed
never able to overtake.
They did not know that the silent Indian with the dingy overalls and the
bobbed hair had watched every movement they made. Through all that hour of
rest not even a papoose had been visible around the hogans--which, while there
was nothing warlike in their keeping under cover, was not exactly a friendly
attitude. Applehead had kept turning his keen, bright blue eyes that way while
he ate and afterwards smoked an after-dinner pipe, but when they were actually
started again upon the trail he appeared to lay aside his misgivings.
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