tated, betraying that even in his
eagerness he too dreaded the parting of the ways. "Well, so long,
boys--take care of yourselves."

"Well, now, I ain't so dang shore--" Applehead began querulously.

But Luck only grinned and waved his hand as he led the way to the south
on the trail that obviously had skirted the side of the square butte.
The four who went with him looked back and waved non-committal adieu;
and Big Medicine, once he was fairly away, shouted back to them to look
out for Navvies, and then laughed with a mirthless uproar that deceived
no one into thinking he was amused. Pink and Weary raised their voices
sufficiently to tell him where he could go, and settled themselves
dejectedly in their saddles again.

"Well, I ain't so darned sure, either," Lite Avery tardily echoed
Applehead's vague statement, in the dry way he had of speaking detached
sentiments from the mental activities that went on behind his calm,
mask-like face and his quiet eyes. "Something feels snaky around here
today."

Applehead looked at him with a glimmer of relief in his eyes, but he did
not reply to the foreboding directly. "Boys, git yore rifles where you
kin use 'em quick," he advised them grimly. "I kin smell shootin' along
this dang trail."

Pink's dimples showed languidly for a moment, and he looked a question
at Weary. Weary grinned answer and pulled his rifle from the "boot"
where it was slung under his right leg, and jerked the lever forward
until a cartridge slid with a click up into the chamber; let the hammer
gently down with his thumb and laid the gun across his thighs.

"She's ready for bear," he observed placidly.

"Well, now, you boys show some kinda sense," Applehead told them when
Pink had followed Weary's example. "Fellers like Happy and Bud, they
shore do show their ign'rance uh this here, dang country, when they up
'n' laff at the idee uh trouble--now I'm tellin' yuh!"

From the ridge which was no more than a high claw of the square butte,
four Indians in greasy, gray Stetsons with flat crowns nodded with grim
satisfaction, and then made baste to point the toes of their moccasins
down to where their unkempt ponies stood waiting. They were too far away
to, see the shifting of rifles to the laps of the riders, or perhaps
they would not have felt quite so satisfied with the steady advance of
the four who had taken the right-hand fork of the trail. They could not
even tell just which four men made up the party.