or her with his eyes.

She knew just how his voice would sound when he asked for her. Then,
after a minute--when he had missed her and had asked for her--she would
come and stand before him. And he would take her hand and say to that
white woman; "This is my Indian sister, Annie-Many-Ponies, who played
the part of the beautiful Indian girl who died so grandly in The Phantom
Herd. This is the girl who plays my character leads." Then the white
girl, who was to be his leading woman, would not feel that she was the
only woman in the company who could do good work for Luck.

Annie-Many-Ponies had worked in pictures since she was fifteen and did
only "atmosphere stuff" in the Indian camps of Luck's arranging. She was
wise in the ways of picture jealousies. Already she was jealous of this
slim woman with the dark hair and eyes and the slow smile that always
caught one's attention and held it. She waited. She wanted Wagalexa
Conka to call her in that kindly, imperious voice of his--the voice of
the master. This leading woman would see, then, that here was a girl
more beautiful for whom Luck Lindsay felt the affection of family ties.

She waited, flattened against the wall, listening to every word that
was spoken in that buzzing group. She saw the last bundle taken from
the machine, and she saw Luck's head and shoulders disappear within the
tonneau, making sure that it was the last bundle and that nothing had
been overlooked. She saw the driver climb in, slam the fore-door shut
after him and bend above the starter. She saw the machine slide out of
the group and away in a wide circle to regain the trail. She saw the
group break and start off in various directions as duty or a passing
interest led. But Wagalexa Conka never once seemed to remember that she
was not there. Never once did he speak her name.

Instead, just as Rosemary was leading the way into the house, this slim
young woman they called Jean glanced around inquiringly. "I thought you
had a squaw working for you," she said in that soft, humorous voice of
hers. "The one who did the Indian girl in The Phantom Herd. Isn't she
here any more?"

"Oh, yes!" Luck stopped with one foot on the porch. "Sure! Where is
Annie? Anybody know?"

"She was around here just before you came," said Rosemary carelessly. "I
don't know where she went."

"Hid out, I reckon," Luck commented. "Injuns are heap shy of meeting
strangers. She'll show up after a little."

Annie-Many-Ponies sto