The Heritage of the Sioux

woman make a perilous ride down a steep, rocky point and dash up to camera and on past it where she set her horse back upon, its haunches with

who stood near him; "me, I not be stuck on ron my caballo down that pl

d rode off to join her father and Lite Avery. "He made that sound terribly sincere, didn't he?" she com

first careless nod of recognition when he rode up. And although her reason had approved of his caution, her sore heart ached for a little kindness from him. She turned her eyes toward him now with a certain wistfulness; but though Ramon chanced to be looking toward her she got no answering light in his ey

ng now to Luck who was standing by Pete Lowry, scribbling something on his script.

es, watching from under her drooping lids, saw that Bill Holmes had edged clos

today." Luck shoved the script into h

ys in town-want you to play the heavy in a bank-robbery and street fight. The makeup is the same as when you worked up there in the rocks the other day. You three fellows come over and go in to the ranch tomorrow if you like. Then I'll ha

at point where Jean Douglas came? You'll have to ride horseback, remember,

who had told her many times how much he loved her, and yet could praise Jean Douglas for her riding. Ramon had declared

n at the way Jean came; and then I can pick you up on an easier trail. But if you want to do i

spoke, but it had in it a clear incisiveness that carried her answe

with big punc

You're riding ba

And she added with a haughty tilt of

see camp over the brow of the hill-sabe?-and then wait till I whistle. One whistle, get ready to come down. Two whistles, you, come. Ride past camera, just the way Jean did. You know you're follow

ny which was her mount in this picture. "I come dow

ean told her good-naturedly as she went by. "

r eye she saw the quick frown of jealousy upon the fac

gear, folded her gay blanket snugly around her uncorseted body and touched the pinto with her moccasined hee

face; for Wagalexa Conka knew, and she knew also, that in the mere act of riding down that slope faster than a walk she was taking a chance of an accident. It was tha

hen you come to that big flat rock, and don't come down where I did. It's too steep. Really," she drawled to Rosemary a

"She's in one of her contrary moods today. She'll come down

rl dared ride. She would shame Wagalexa Conka, too, for his injustice to her. She would put the too, for big punch in that scene or-she

eneath her. A little to one side was a narrow backbone of smoother soil than the rest, and here were printed deep the marks of Jean's horse. Even there it was steep, and there was a bank, down there by the big flat rock which Jean had me

ck now and wait for whistle. Ride along the edge when you come, from

nd upward in the Indian sign-talk which meant "yes." Luck's eyes flashed a

edge and disappeared. "I'd cut the whole scene out if I didn't know what a rider she is," he added to the others, more uneasy than he

"She'd hate me if you hadn't. But I'm going to watch her with my

and he squinted into the viewfinder, and he made certain for the second time just where the side-lines came, and thrust half an inch deeper in the sandy soil the slender stakes which

ra. All ready, Pete?" Then, as if he wanted to have it over with as soon as possible, he whistled once, waited whi

teeply that it might be called a cliff. Indian fashion, she was whipping the pinto down both sides with the end of her reins. Her slim legs hung straight, her moccasined toes

y great hankering for whole bones in his body, planted his forefeet and slid to

ile he turned the camera crank steadily round and round and h

to the tender part of his flanks. He came lunging down over the first rim of the bluff; then since he must, he gathered himself for the ordeal and came leaping down and down a

hard against a boulder and somehow flung herself into place again on the horse. She lifted his head and called to him in short, harsh, Indian words. The pinto scrambled to his knees, got to his feet and felt again the sting of the rein-end in his flanks. Like a

mera crank in Pete Lowry's hands was turning, turning, recording every move of hers, every little changing expression. She swept down upon them so close that Pete grabbed the tripod with one hand, ready to lift it and dodge awa

praise the ride she had made. She heard them saying how frightened they had been when the pinto fell, and she heard Wagalexa Conka call to her that she had made a strong scene for him. She did n

notice Annie-Many-Ponies at all as he rode past her. He was gazing off down the arroyo and riding with all his weight on one stirrup and the other foot swinging free, as is the nonchalant way of accustomed riders who would ease their muscles no