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irritations； in the way of dishes left unwashed and inconspicuous corners left
unswept； to warp her opinion of Annie…Many…Ponies。
When he left Rosemary he went straight down to where the chuck…wagon stood；
and began to tap the tires with a small rock to see if they would need
resetting before he started out。 He decided that the brake…blocks would have
to be replaced with new onesor at least reshod with old boot…soles。 The
tongue was cracked； too； that had been done last winter when Luck was
producing The Phantom Herd and had sent old Dave Wiswell down a rocky hillside
with half…broken bronks harnessed to the wagon； in a particularly dramatic
scene。 Applehead went grumblingly in search of some baling wire to wrap the
tongue。 He had been terribly excited and full of enthusiasm for the picture at
the time the tongue was cracked； but now he looked upon it merely as a vital
weakness in his roundup outfit。 A new tongue would mean delay； and delay； in
his present mood； was tragedy。
He couldn't find any old baling wire； though he had long been accustomed to
tangling his feet in snarled bunches of it when he went forth in the dark
after a high wind。 Until now he had not observed its unwonted absence from the
yard。 For a long while he had not needed any wire to mend things； because Luck
had attended to everything about the ranch； and if anything needed mending he
had set one of the Happy Family at the task。
His search led him out beyond the corrals in the little dry wash that
sometimes caught and held what the high winds brought rolling that way。 The
wash was half filled with tumble…weed； so that Applehead was forced to get
down into it and kick the weeds aside to see if there was any wire lodged
beneath。 His temper did not sweeten over the task； especially since he found
nothing that he wanted。
Annie…Many…Ponies； riding surreptitiously up the dry washmeaning to come out
in a farther gully and so approach the corral from the west instead of from
the eastcame upon Applehead quite unexpectedly。 She stopped and eyed him
aslant from under her level； finely marked brows； and her eyes lightened with
relief when she saw that Applehead looked more startled than she had felt。
Indeed； Applehead had been calling Luck uncomplimentary names for cleaning the
place of everything a man might need in a hurry； and he was ashamed of
himself。
〃Can't find a foot of danged wire on the danged place！〃 Applehead kicked a
large； tangled bunch of weeds under the very nose of the horse which jumped
sidewise。 〃Never seen such a maniac for puttin' things where a feller can't
find 'em； as what Luck is。〃 He was not actually speak ing to
Annie…Many…Poniesor if he was he did not choose to point his remarks by
glancing at her。
〃Wagalexa Conka； he heap careful for things belong when they stay；〃
Annie…Many…Ponies observed in her musical contralto voice which always
irritated Applehead with its very melody。 〃I think plenty wire all fold up
neat in prop…room。 Wagalexa Conka； he all time clean this studio from trash
lie around everywhere。〃
〃He does； hey？〃 Applehead's sunburnt mustache bristled like the whiskers of
Compadre when he was snarling defiance at the little black dog。 The feud was
asserting itself。 〃 Well； this here danged place ain't no studio！ It's a
ranch； and it b'longs to ME； Nip Furrman。 And any balin' wire on this ranch is
my balin' wire； and it's got a right to lay around wherever I want it t' lay。
And I don't need no danged squaw givin' me hints about 'how my place oughta be
keptnow I'm tellin' yuh！〃
Annie…Many…Ponies did not reply in words。 She sat on her horse； straight as
any young warchief that ever led her kinsmen to battle； and looked down at
Applehead with that maddening half smile of hers； inscrutable as the Sphinx
her features sometimes resembled。 Shunka Chistala （which is Sioux for Little
Dog） came bounding over the low ridge that hid the ranch buildings from sight；
and wagged himself dislocatingly up to her。 Annie…Many…Ponies frowned at his
approach until she saw that Applehead was aiming a clod at the dog； whereupon
she touched her heels to the horse and sent him between Applehead and her pet；
and gave Shunka Chistala a sharp command in Sioux that sent him back to the
house with his tail dropped。
For a full half minute she and old Applehead looked at each other in open
antagonism。 For a squaw； Annie…Many…Ponies was remarkably unsubmissive in her
bearing。 Her big eyes were frankly hostile； her half smile was； in the opinion
of Applehead； almost as frankly scornful。 He could not match her in the
subtleties of feminine warfare。 He took refuge behind the masculine bulwark of
authority。
〃Where yuh bin with that horse uh mine？〃 he demanded harshly。 〃Purty note when
I don't git no say about my own stock。 Got him all het up and heavin' like
he'd been runnin' cattle； I ain't goin' to stand for havin' my horses ran to
death； now I'm tellin' yuh！ Fer a squaw； I must say you're gittin' too danged
uppish in your ways around here。 Next time you want to go traipsin' around the
mesa； you kin go afoot。 I'm goin' to need my horses fer roundup。〃
A white girl would have made some angry retort； but Annie…Many…Ponies； without
looking in the least abashed； held her peace and kept that little inscrutable
smile upon her lips。 Her eyes； however； narrowed in their gaze。
〃Yuh hear me？〃 Poor old Applehead had never before attempted to browbeat a
woman； and her unsubmissive silence seemed to his bachelor mind uncanny。
〃I hear what Wagalexa Conka tell me。〃 She turned her horse and rode composedly
away from him over the ridge。
〃You'll hear a danged sight more'n that； now I'm tellin' yuh！〃 raved Applehead
impotently。 〃I ain't sayin' nothin' agin Luck； but they's goin' to be some
danged plain speakin' done on some subjects when he comes back； and given'
squaws a free rein and lettin' 'em ride rough…shod over everybody and
everything is one of 'era。 Things is gittin' mighty funny when a danged squaw
kin straddle my horses and ride 'em to death； and sass me when I say a word
agin itnow I'm tellin' yuh！〃
He went mumbling rebellion that was merely the effervescing of a mood which
would pass with the words it bred； to the store…room which Annie…Many…Ponies
had called the prop…room。 He found there； piled upon a crude shelf； many
little bundles of wire folded neatly and with the outer end wound twice around
to keep each bundle separate from the others。 Applehead snorted at what he
chose to consider a finicky streak in his secret idol； Luck Lindsay； but he
took two of the little bundles and went and wired the wagon tongue。 And in the
work he found a salve of anticipatory pleasure； so that he ended the task to
the humming of the tune he had heard a movie theatre playing in town as he
rode by on his way home。
CHAPTER II。 THE DAUGHTER OF A CHIEF
In spite of Andy Green's plea for delay until they knew what Luck meant to d