eared his throat and blurted out what he had to say. He had heard
Shunka Chistala whinnying at midnight in the tent of Annie-Many-Ponies,
and had gone outside to see what was the matter. He didn't know, he
explained, but what his cat Compadre was somehow involved. He had stood
in the shadow of his tent for a few minutes, and had seen Bill Holmes
sneak into camp, coming from up the arroyo somewhere.

For some reason he waited a little longer, and he had seen a woman's
shadow move stealthily up to the front of Annie's tent, and had seen
Annie slip inside and had heard her whisper a command of some sort
to the dog, which had immediately hushed its whining. He hated to
be telling tales on anybody, but he knew how keenly Luck felt his
responsibility toward the Indian girl, and he thought he ought to know.
This night-prowling, he declared, had shore got to be stopped, or he'd
be danged if he didn't run 'em both outa camp himself.

"Bill Holmes might have been out of camp," Luck said calmly, "but you
sure must be mistaken about Annie. She's straight."

"You think she is," Applehead corrected him. "But you don't know a
danged thing about it. A girl that's behavin' herself don't go chasin'
all over the mesa alone, the way she's been doin' all spring. I never
said nothin' 'cause it wa'n't none of my put-in. But that Injun had a
heap of business off away from the ranch whilst you was in Los Angeles,
Luck. Sneaked off every day, just about--and 'd be gone fer hours at a
time. You kin ast any of the boys, if yuh don't want to take my word. Or
you kin ast Mis' Green; she kin tell ye, if she's a mind to."

"Did Bill Holmes go with her?" Luck's eyes were growing hard and gray.

"As to that I won't say, fer I don't know and I'm tellin' yuh what I
seen myself. Bill Holmes done a lot uh walkin' in to town, fur as that
goes; and he didn't always git back the same day neither. He never went
off with Annie, and he never came back with her, fur as I ever seen.
But," he added grimly, "they didn't come back together las' night,
neither. They come about three or four minutes apart."

Luck thought a minute, scowling off across the arroyo. Not even to
Applehead, bound to him by closer ties than anyone there, did he ever
reveal his thoughts completely.

"All right--I'll attend to them," he said finally. "Don't say anything
to the bunch; these things aren't helped by talk. Get into your old
cowman costume and use that big gray you rode in that