oke no word
to anyone.

Soon Ramon mounted his horse to return to his camp. He came riding down
to her--for his trail lay that way--and as he rode he called to the
others a good natured "Hasta luego!" which is the Mexican equivalent of
"See you later." He did not seem to notice Annie-Many-Ponies at all as
he rode past her. He was gazing off down the arroyo and riding with all
his weight on one stirrup and the other foot swinging free, as is the
nonchalant way of accustomed riders who would ease their muscles now
and then. But as he passed the rock where she was sitting he murmured,
"Tonight by the rock I wait for you, querida mia." Though she gave no
sign that she had heard, the heart of Annie-Many-Ponies gave a throb of
gladness that was almost pain.

CHAPTER VII. ADVENTURE COMES SMILING

Luck, in the course of his enthusiastic picture making, reached the
point where he must find a bank that was willing to be robbed--in broad
daylight and for screen purposes only. If you know anything at all about
our financial storehouses, you know that they are sensitive about being
robbed, or even having it appear that they are being subjected to so
humiliating a procedure. What Luck needed was a bank that was not only
willing, but one that faced the sun as well. He was lucky, as usual. The
Bernalillo County Bank stands on a corner facing east and south. It is
an unpretentious little bank of the older style of architecture, and
might well be located in the centre of any small range town and hold the
shipping receipts of a cattleman who was growing rich as he grew old.

Luck stopped across the street and looked the bank over, and saw how the
sun would shine in at the door and through the wide windows during the
greater part of the afternoon, and hoped that the cashier was a human
being and would not object to a fake robbery. Not liking suspense,
he stepped off the pavement and dodged a jitney, and hurried over to
interview the cashier.

You never know what secret ambitions hide behind the impassive courtesy
of the average business man. This cashier, for instance, wore a green
eyeshade whenever his hat was not on his, head. His hair was thin and
his complexion pasty and his shoulders were too stooped for a man of
his age. You never would have suspected, just to look at him through the
fancy grating of his window, how he thirsted for that kind of adventure
which fiction writers call red-blooded. He had never had an adventure