Maybe the squaw in her will be howled out by the time we get back." And she added with a venomous sincerity that would have warmed the heart of old Applehead, "I'd shoot that dog, for half a cent! How do you suppose an animal of his size can produce all that noise ?" "Oh, I don't know!" Rosemary spoke with the patience of utter weariness.
"I've stood her and the dog for about eight months and I'm getting kind of hardened to it.

But I never did hear them go on like that before.
You'd think all her relations were being murdered, wouldn't you ?" Jean was busy getting into her riding clothes and did not say what she thought; but you may be sure that it was antipathetic to the grief of Annie-Many-Ponies, and that Jean's attitude was caused by a complete lack of understanding.

Which, if you will stop to think, is true of half the unsympathetic attitudes in the world.

Because they did not understand, the two dressed hastily and tucked their purses safely inside their shirtwaists and saddled and rode away to town.

And the last they heard as they put the ranch behind them was the wailing chant of Annie-Many-Ponies and the prodigious, long-drawn howling of the little black dog.
Annie-Many-Ponies, hearing the beat of hoofs ceased her chanting and looked out in time to see the girls just disappearing over the low brow of the hill.