Up on the Tim-rock brown faces peered down steadfastly at
the pow-wow. And back among the rocks and bushes the Happy Family waited
restively with eyes turning in all directions guarding against treachery; and
Lite, whose bullets always went straight to the spot where they were aimed,
stood and stared fixedly over his rifle sights at the red-blanketed figure
squatted in the sand and kept his finger crooked upon the trigger. Beside him
Applehead fidgeted and grumbled and called Luck names for being so dang slow,
and wondered if those two out there meant to sit and chew the rag all day.
The Indian leaned and traced Luck's trail slowly with his finger. Did the four
white men come that way? he asked in sign. And then, had Luck seen them? Was
be sure that he was following the four who had stolen money in Albuquerque?
Come to think of it, Luck was not sure to the point of being able to take oath
that it was so. He traced again where the hoofprints had been discovered near
the stalled automobile, and signed that the six horses they believed to have
belonged to the four who had taken two horses packed with food and blankets--
and the stolen money.
Then suddenly Luck remembered that, for proof of his story, he had a page of
the Evening Herald in his pocket, torn from a copy he had bought on the
streets the evening after the robbery.
Pages:
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