y and loaded 'er up with
grub fer two weeks," blurted Applehead heroically. "I was figurin'--"
"Good! Couldn't ask better. Applehead, you sure are there when it comes
to backing a man's play. If I haven't said much about how I stand toward
you fellows it isn't because I don't appreciate every durned one of
you."
The Happy Family squirmed guiltily and made way for Applehead, who was
sidling toward the open door, his face showing alarming symptoms of
apoplexy. Their confusion Luck set down to a becoming modesty. He went
on planning and perfecting details. Standing as he did on the threshold
of a career to which his one big success had opened the door, he was
wholly absorbed in making good.
There was nothing now to balk his progress, he told himself. He had his
company, he had the location for his big range stuff, he had all the
financial backing any reasonable man could want. He had a salary that
in itself gauged the prestige he had gained among producers, and as an
added incentive to do the biggest work of his life he had a contract
giving him a royalty on all prints of his pictures in excess of a fixed
number. Better than all this, he had big ideals and an enthusiasm for
the work that knew no limitations.
Perhaps he was inclined to dream too big; per-haps he assumed too great
an enthusiasm on the part of those who worked with him--I don't know
just where he did place the boundary line. I do know that he never once
suspected the Happy Family of any meditated truancy from the ranch and
his parting instructions to "sit tight." I also know that the Happy
Family was not at all likely to volunteer information of their lapse.
And as for Applehead, the money burned his soul deep with remorse; so
deep that he went around with an abject eagerness to serve Luck that
touched that young man as a rare example of a bone-deep loyalty that
knows no deceit. Which proves once more how fortunate it is that we
cannot always see too deeply into the thoughts and motives of our
friends.
CHAPTER IV. LOVE WORDS FOR ANNIE
In Tijeras Arroyo the moon made black shadows where stood the tiny
knolls here and there, marking frequently the windings of dry washes
where bushes grew in ragged patches and where tall weeds of mid-May
tangled in the wind. The roundup tents of the Flying U Feature Film
Company stood white as new snow in the moonlight, though daylight showed
them an odd, light-blue tint for photographic purposes. On a farther
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