and the problem of cutting down their
baggage so as to avoid paying excess charges. Luck, once he had taken the
mental plunge into the deep waters of so hazardous an enterprise, began
to exhibit a most amazing knowledge of the details of picture making.

To save money, he told them, he would be his own camera man. He could do
without a "still" camera, because he would enlarge clippings from the
different scenes in the negative instead. They'd have to manage the range
stuff with only one camera, which would mean more work to get the various
effects. But with a telephoto lens and a wide angle lens he could come
pretty near putting it over the way he wanted it. "And there'll be no
more blank ammunition, boys," he told them. "So you want to fit
yourselves out with real shells. I'm not going very strong on this
foreground bullet-effect stuff; we can afford to leave that for the
Western four-flushers that can't do anything else. But she's some wild
down where we'll be located, so we'll not be packing empty guns, at that.

"And there's another thing," he went on, talking and making notes at the
same time. "If we're going to do this, we can't get started any too
soon. We may be able to hit a late round-up and get some scenes, which
will save rounding up stock ourselves for it. And there's all that
winter stuff to make, too; we haven't any more time to throw away than
we have money."

"Well, we're ready to hit the trail any time you are," Andy declared.
"To-morrow, if yuh say so. You go ahead with your end of it, Luck, and
I'll be straw boss here in camp and get the outfit packed and ready to
ship outa here on an hour's notice. I can do it, too--believe me!"

"Do you know," said Rosemary, "I'd let James and Weary buy our winter's
supplies and have them sent by freight right on to where we're going.
Things are awfully cheap here. I'll make out a list, and the boys can
attend to that to-morrow. And I'll bake up a lot of stuff for lunches on
the train, too. We're not going to squander money in the dining car."

"Say, we'll just borry one of them dray teams from the Acme corral, by
cripes, and haul our own stuff to the depot!" Big Medicine exclaimed with
enthusiasm. "Save us four or five dollars right there!"

Luck rose and reached for his umbrella as though he had just recalled an
important engagement. "I think I know where to find a buyer for my
machine," he said, "so I'll just get on his trail. To-morrow I'll start
getting my camera outfit together. Andy, I'll turn this end of the
expedition over to you; that idea of getting food supplies here is all
right, within certain limits. Don't buy any cheap, weighty stuff here,
because the freight will eat up all you save. But I'll leave that to you
folks; I guess you've had experience enough--"

"Considering most of us learned our _a-b-c's_ outa Montgomery-Ward
catalogues," Weary observed with a quirk of the lips, "I guess you can
safely leave it to the bunch. Range kids are brought up on them
Wind-river bibles, as we call mail order catalogues. I'll bet you I can
give offhand the freight on anything you can name, from a hair hackamore
to a gang plow."

"Fly at it, then," laughed Luck, with his hand on the doorknob. "I am
going to be some busy myself. I'll just turn over the transportation
problem to you folks. _Adios_."

"Prepare to ride in the chair car," Rosemary called after him warningly.
"Even a tourist sleeper is going to be too luxurious for us; we're going
to squeeze nickels till they just squeal!"

Luck held the door open while he smiled approvingly at her. "That'll be
playing the game right from the start. _Adios_, folks."




CHAPTER TEN

UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD


Applehead Forrman was worried over his cat, Compadre, which is Spanish
for comrade or something of that sort. It was a blue cat and it was a
big cat, and it had a bellicose disposition, and Applehead was anxious
because it had lately declared war on a neighboring coyote and had not
come out of the battle unscathed. Applehead had heard the disturbance
and had gone out with a rifle and dispersed the coyote, but not until
Compadre had lost half of his tail and a good deal of his
self-assurance. Since that night, almost a week ago, Compadre had been a
changed cat. He had sought dark corners and had yowled when the best
friend he had in the world tried to coax him out to his meals. Applehead
was very patient and very sympathetic, and hunted small game with which
to tempt the invalid's appetite.

On this day he had a fat prairie dog which he had shot, and he was
carrying it around by a hind leg looking for Compadre and calling "Kitty,
kitty, kitty," in the most seductive tones of which his desert-harshened
vocal chords were capable. He looked under the squat adobe cabin which
held all the odds and ends that had accumulated about the place, and
which he called the "ketch-all." He went over and looked under the water
tank where there was shade and coolness. He went to the stable, and from
there he returned to the adobe house, squat like the "ketch-all" but
larger. There was a hole alongside the fireplace chimney at the end next
the hill, and sometimes when Compadre was especially disenchanted with
his world, he went into the hole and nursed his grievances in dark
seclusion under the house.

Applehead got down upon all fours and called "Kitty, kitty, kitty," with
his face close to the hole. It was past noon, and Compadre had not had
anything to eat since the night before, when he had lapped up half a
saucer of canned milk and had apathetically licked a slice of bacon.
Applehead put his ear to the hole and imagined he heard a faint meow from
a far corner. He pushed the prairie dog into the aperture and called
"Kitty-kitty-kitty" again coaxingly.

He was so absorbed in his anxious quest that he did not hear the chuckle
of two wagons coming up through the sand to the corral. He did not even
hear the footsteps of men approaching the house. He did not hear
anything at all except a dismal yowl now and then from the darkness. He
contorted his long person that he might peer into the gloom. He pushed
the prairie dog in as far as he could reach. "Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!"
he coaxed. "Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda
performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm
a-tellin' yuh. That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it,
and some salve. But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't
comin' in under there after yuh. Come, kitty-kitty-kitty! Come on outa
there 'fore I send a charge of birdshot in after yuh!" His voice changed
to a tremulous chant of rising anger. "You wall-eyed, mangy, rat-eatin'
son of a gun, what have I been feedin' yuh fur all these years? You come
outa there! If it wasn't for the love uh God I got in my heart, I'll
fill yuh so full of holes the coyotes'll have to make soup of ye! I'll
sure spread yuh out so thin your hide'll measure up like a mountain
lion! Don't yuh yowl at me like that! Come, kitty-kitty-kitty--ni-ice
kitty! Come to your old pard what ketched yuh the fattest young dog on
the flat for your dinner. Come on, now; you ain't skeered uh me,
shorely! Come on, Compadre--ni-ice kitty!"

"Let me try!" cried Rosemary behind him, her voice startling old
Applehead so that he knocked his head painfully on the rock foundation as
he jerked himself into a more dignified posture. His eyes widened at the
size of the audience grouped behind him, but he had faced more amazing
sights than that in his eventful career. He got stiffly to his feet and
bowed, the prairie dog dangling limply from his hand.

"Howdy! Howdy! Pleased to meet yuh," he greeted them dazedly. Then he
spied Luck standing half behind Weary's tall form, and his embarrassed
smile changed to a joyful grin. "Well, danged if it ain't Luck! How are
yuh, boy? I was jest thinkin' about you right this morning. What wind
blowed you into camp? Come right on in, folks. If you're friends of
Luck's, yuh don't need no interduction in this camp. Luck and me's et
outa the same skillet months on end together. Come on in. I've et, but
they's plenty left." His blue eyes twinkled quizzically over the Happy
Family and then went to Luck. "What yuh up to this time, boy? 'Nother
wild-west show?"

While they were waiting for coffee to boil, Luck told him what he was up
to this time. Told him what it was he meant to do in the way of making a
Western picture that should be worthy the West. He did not say a word
about needing Applehead's assistance; he did not need to say a word about
that. Applehead himself saw where he would fit into the scheme, and he
seemed to take it for granted that Luck saw it also.

"Got all your stuff out from town?" he asked, while he was hunting cups
enough to go around. "If yuh ain't, you can send a couple of the boys in
with a four-horse team after dinner. I d'no about beds, unless yuh got
your own beddin'-rolls with yuh. The missus, she can have a room, and the
rest of yuh will have to knock some bunks together. Mebby we can clean
out the 'ketch-all' and turn that into a bunk house. One I had, it burnt
down last winter; some darn-fool Mexicans got to fightin' in there and
kicked the lamp over. It could have a new roof put on, I reckon; the
walls is there yet. You can take a look around after you eat, and see
what all there is to do. Well, set up, folks; ain't much, but I've
throwed my feet under the table fer less and was thankful to git it, now
I'm a-tellin' yuh!"

Big Medicine bethought him of the remains of the train lunch which they
had frugally saved. He brought that and added it to Applehead's
impromptu meal. The sandwiches were mashed flat, and the pickles were
limp, and the cake much inclined to crumble, but Applehead gave one look
and took off his hat.

"I've et, but I can shore eat again when I git my eyes on cake," he
declared exuberantly, and pulled an empty box up to the table for a seat.
"I wisht Compadre could git a smell uh that there fried chicken; it would
put new life into him, which he needs after tangling with that there
coyote 'tother night."

"We ought to unhitch and give the horses a feed," Luck suggested. "Any
particular place?"

"Well, you know where to put them cayuses as well as I do," Applehead
mumbled, with his mouth full of cake. "I don't care what yuh do around
the danged place. Go along and don't bother me, boy; I'm busy."

"Didn't I tell you how it would be?" Luck reminded Andy and Weary when
they were outside. "That old boy is tickled to death to have us here. He
sure is a type, too. I'll be using him in the picture. And just tale a
look at that corral down there! We'll set up camp this afternoon and
round up some horses,--Applehead always keeps a bunch running back here
on the mesa,--and to-morrow morning we'll get to work.