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 bad 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 slope cunningly placed by the scenic