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remembrance。 Instead； he asked how much the Indian wanted for the grass the
horses would eat in an hour。
The Indian looked at the two impassively and did not say anything at all； so
Applehead flipped him a dollar。
〃Now； what time did them fellows pass here yesterday？〃 Applehead asked； in the
half Indian； half Mexican jargon which nearly all New Mexico Indians speak。
The Indian looked at the dollar and moved his head of bobbed hair vaguely from
left to right。
〃All right； dang ye； don't talk if ye don't feel like it；〃 Applehead commented
in wasted sarcasm； and looked at Luck for some hint of what was wanted next。
Luck seemed uncertain； so Applehead turned toward the ditch； and the food his
empty stomach craved。
〃No use tryin' to make 'em talk if they ain't in the notion；〃 he told Luck
impatiently。 〃He's got his dollar； and we'll take what grass our hosses kin
pack away in their bellies。 That kinda winds up the transaction； fur's I kin
see。〃
〃I wonder if another dollar〃
But Applehead interrupted him。 〃Another dollar might git him warmed up so's
he'd shake his danged head twicet instid uh once't；〃 he asserted
pessimistically； 〃but that's all you'd git outa him。 That thar buck ain't
TALKIN' today。 Yuh better come an' eat 'n' rest yer laigs。 If he talked； he'd
lie。 We're a heap better off jest doin' our own trailin' same as we been doin。
That bunch come by here； the tracks show that。 If they went on； the tracks'll
show where they headed fur。 'N' my idee is that they'll take their time from
now on。 They don't know we're trailin' 'em up。 I'll bet they never throwed
back any scout t' watch the back trail； In' they're in Navvy country nowwhar
they're purty tol'ble safe if they stand in with the Injuns。 'N' I'm tellin'
yuh right now； Luck； I wisht I could say as much fer us！〃 Applehead lifted his
hat and rubbed his palm over his bald pate that was covered thickly with beads
of perspiration； as if his head were a stone jar filled with cold water。 〃If
we have to sep'rate； Luck； you take a fool's advice and keep yore dang eyes
open。 The boys； they think I been stringin' 'em along。 Mebby you think so too；
but I kin tell ye right now 't we gotta keep our dang eyes in our haids！〃
〃I'm taking your word for it； Applehead；〃 Luck told him； lowering his voice a
little because they were nearing the others。 〃Besides； I've heard a lot about
these tricky boys with the Dutch…cut on their hair。 I'm keeping it all in mind
don't worry。 But I sure am going to overhaul Ramon； if we have to follow him
to salt water。〃
〃Well； now； I ain't never turned back on a trail yit； fer want uh nerve to
foller it；〃 AppleHead stated offendedly。 〃When I was shurf〃
The enlivened jumble of voices； each proclaiming the owner's hopes or desires
or disbelief to ears that were not listening； quite submerged Applehead's
remarks upon the subject of his wellknown prowess when be was 〃shurf。〃 The
Happy Family were sprawled in unwonted luxury on the shady side of an
outcropping of rock from under which a little spring seeped and made a small
oasis in the general barrenness。 They had shade； they Had water and food； and
through the thin aromatic smoke of their cigarettes they could watch their
horses cropping avidly the green grass that meant so much to them。 The
knowledge that an hour later they would be traveling again in the blazing heat
of midday but emphasized their present comfort。 They were enjoying every
minute to its full sixty seconds。 Laughter came easily and the hardships of
the trail were pushed into the background of their minds。
They were not particularly anxious over the success or failure of Luck's trip
to the hogans。 They were on Ramon's trail （or so they firmly believed） and
sooner or later they would overhaul him and Bill Holmes。 When that happened
they believed that they would be fully equal to the occasion； and that Ramon
and Bill and those who were with him would learn what it means to turn traitor
to the hand that has fed them； and to fling upon that hand the mud of public
suspicion。 But just now they were not talking about these things； they were
arguing very earnestly over a very trivial matter indeed； and they got as much
satisfaction out of the contention as though it really amounted to something。
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 ridersaway 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 hoganswhich； 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。
Not even Applehead suspected that the Indian had led a pony carefully down
into a draw； keeping the buildings always between himself and the party of
white men； nor that he watched them while they spread out beyond the
cultivated patch of irrigated ground until they picked up the trail of the six
horses； when they closed the gaps between them and followed the trail straight
away into the parched mesa that was lined with deep washes and canons and
crossed with stony ridges where the heat radiated up from the bare rocks as
from a Heating stove when the fire is blazing within。 When they rode away
together； the Indian ran back into the draw； mounted his pony and lashed it
into a heavy； sure…footed gallop。
CHAPTER XIII。 SET AFOOT
The tracks of the six horses led down into a rock…bottomed arroyo so deep in
most places that all view of the surrounding mesa was shut off completely；
save where the ragged tops of a distant line of hills pushed up into the
dazzling blue of the sky。 The heat； down here among the rocks； was all but
unbearable； and when they discovered that no tracks led out of the arroyo on
the farther side； the Happy Family dismounted and walked to save their horses
while they divided into two parties and hunted up and down the arroyo for the
best trail。
It was just such vexatious delays as this which had kept them always a day's
ride or more behind their quarry； and Luck's hand trembled with nervous
irritability when he turned back and banded Applehead one of those small；
shrill police whistles whose sound carries so far； and which are much used by
motion…picture producers for the long…distance direction of scenes。
〃I happened to have a couple in my pocket；〃 he explained hurriedly。 〃You know
the signals； don't you？ One long； two short will mean you've picked up the
trail。 Three or more short； quick ones is an emergency call； for all hands to
come running。〃
〃Well； they's one thing you want to keep in mind； Luck；〃 Applehead urged from
his superior trail craft。 〃They might be sharp enough to ride in here a ways
and come out the same side they rode in at。 Yuh want to hunt both sides as yuh
go up。〃
〃Sure；〃 said Luck； and hurried away up the arroyo with Pink； Big Medicine；
Andy and the Native Son at his heels； leading the two pack…horses that
belonged to their party。 In the opposite direction went Applehead and the
others； their eyes upon the ground watching for the faintest sign of
hoofprints。
That blazing ball of torment； the sun； slid farther and farther down to the
skyline； tempering its heat with the cool promise of dusk。 Away up the arroyo；
Luck stopped for breath after a sharp climb up through a narrow gash in the
sheer wall of what was now a small canon； and saw that to search any farther
in that direction would be useless。 Across the arroyothat had narrowed and
deepened until it was a canonAndy Green was mopping his face with his
handkerchief and studying a bold hump of jumbled bowlders and ledges；
evidently considering whether it was worth while toiling up to the top。 A
little below him； the Native Son was flinging rocks at a rattlesnake with the
vicious precision of frank abhorrence。 Down in the canon bottom Big Medicine
and Pink were holding the horses on the shady side of the gorge； and the smoke
of their cigarettes