THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX
phone to his irritated prospector. " Get those riders outa the cañon—they're in the scene!"
Applehead promptly appeared, glaring up at Luck. "Well, now, if I've got to haul this here dang jackass up this dang gulch, I cal'clate that'll be about job enough for one man," he yelled. "How yuh expect me t' go two ways 't once? Hey? Yuh figured that out yit?" He turned then for a look at the interrupting strangers, and immediately they saw his manner change. He straightened up, and his right hand crept back significantly toward his hip. Applehead, I may here explain, was an ex-sheriff, and what range men call a "go-getter." He had notches on the ivory handle of his gun—three of them. In fair fights and in upholding the law he had killed, and he would kill again if the need ever arose, as those who knew him never doubted.
Luck, seeing that backward movement of the hand, unconsciously hitched his own gun into position on his hip and came down off his rock ledge with one leap. Just as instinctively the Happy Family scrambled out of the shade and followed Luck down the gulch to where Applehead stood
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