He introduced the Happy Family and Applehead to her and to her husband, Lite Avery, and her father.
He pulled a skinny individual forward and announced that this was Pete Lowry, one of the Great Western's crack cameramen; and another chubby, smooth-cheeked young man he presented as Tommy Johnson, scenic artist and stage carpenter.

And he added with a smile for the whole bunch, "We're going to produce some real stuff from now on believe me, folks!" In the confusion and the mild clamor of the absence-bridging questions and hasty answers, two persons had no part.

Old Applehead, hard-ridden by the uneasy consciousness of his treason to Luck, leaned against a porch post and sucked hard at the stem of an empty pipe.

And just beyond the corner out of sight but well within hearing, Annie-Many-Ponies stood flattened against the wall and listened with fast-beating pulse for the sound of her name, spoken in the loved voice of Wagalexa Conka.

She, the daughter of a chief and Luck's sister by tribal adoption--would he not miss her: from among those others who welcomed him?
Would he not presently ask: "Where is Annie-Many-Ponies ?" She knew just how he would turn and search for her with his eyes.
She knew just how his voice would sound when he asked for her.