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your ridge-runner while I get ready to take this wire hack to town and send it off,” he snapped, preparing to write. “Sure, I’ll send that set of prints! Happy, you can go to the head of the class. Now it’s only a case of sit tight till the money comes. The prints are packed and in the bank vault, so I’ll just get them out and send them C.O.D. to Mr. Crittenden, along with the states rights contract. How’s that for luck, boys?”

      “Pretty good—for Luck,” grinned Andy meaningly. “Fly at it, you coming millionaire!”

      “Just a case of sit tight, boys. Adios!” cried Luck jubilantly as he hurried away.

      Once start along a smooth trail, and everything seems to conspire toward a pleasant trip. To prove it, Luck found another telegram waiting for him in Albuquerque. This was from Martinson, and might be interpreted as an apology more or less abject. Certainly it was an urgent request that he return immediately to Los Angeles and to his old place at the Acme, and produce Western pictures under no supervision whatever.

      Luck gave a little chuckle when he pocketed that message, but he did not send any answer. He meant to wait and talk it over with the boys first. “Better proposition than before,” Martinson said. Well, perhaps it would be best to look into it; Luck was too experienced to believe that one success means permanent success; there are too many risks for the free lance to run when a single failure means financial annihilation. If the Acme would come to his terms, it might be to his advantage to take his boys back and accept this peace-offering. At any rate, he appreciated to the full the triumph they had scored.

      Next, by some twist of the red tape in the Philadelphia express office,—or perhaps R.J. Crittenden was a good fellow and asked them to do it,—the two thousand dollars came by wire, just three days after Luck had received notice that his shipment of positive film was being held for him at the express office in Albuquerque. Also came other offers, mostly by wire, for states rights to The Phantom Herd. And when the Happy Family realized what those offers meant, they didn’t care how hard or how long Luck worked them in the little house which he had turned into a laboratory.

      Being human, intensely so in some ways, the first set of prints they turned out Luck sent to Los Angeles with a mental godspeed and a hope that Bently Brown and Martinson would see it and “get wise to what a real Western picture looked like.” There were other orders ahead of Los Angeles in Luck’s book, but they waited a little longer so that he might the sooner taste a little of the sweets of revenge.

      Whether Bently Brown and Martinson saw The Phantom Herd, Luck was a long, long time finding out. But he learned that some one else did see it, and that right speedily. For among his many telegrams that came clicking into Albuquerque was this one which makes a fitting end to this story:

      Luck Lindsay

       Albuquerque

       New Mexico

      Congratulations on The Phantom Herd Wonderful Production New Proposition You to Produce Western Features with Your Present Company on Straight Salary and Bonus Basis Miss Jean Douglas to Play Your Leads if I Can Sign Her up Can You Come Here at Once to Close Deal Answer

      Dewitt

      “All right, boys, you can run and play.” Luck handed them the telegram, looked at his watch, and began to roll down his sleeves. “I’ll catch the next train for ‘Los’ and see Dewitt,—don’t take any studying to know that’s the thing to do,—and if you’ll pack all this negative, Bill, I’ll take that along and hire the rest of the prints made. Andy, you’re riding herd on this bunch while I’m gone. Just hold yourselves ready for orders, because I don’t know how things will shape up. But believe me, boys, she’s shaping up like a bank-roll!”

      The Heritage of the Sioux

       Table of Contents

       Chapter I. When Green Grass Comes

       Chapter II. The Daughter of a Chief

       Chapter III. To the Victors the Spoils

       Chapter IV. Love Words for Annie

       Chapter V. For the Good of the Company

       Chapter VI. "I go Where Wagalexa Conka Say”

       Chapter VII. Adventure Comes Smiling

       Chapter VIII. The Song of the Omaha

       Chapter IX. Riders in the Background

       Chapter X. Deputies All

       Chapter XI. All this War-Talk About Injuns

       Chapter XII. The Wild-Goose Chase

       Chapter XIII. Set Afoot

       Chapter XIV. One Put Over on the Bunch

       Chapter XV. "Now, Dang it, Ride!”

       Chapter XVI. Annie-Many-Ponies Waits

       Chapter XVII. Applehead Shows the Stuff he is Made of

       Chapter XVIII. In the Devil’s Frying-Pan

       Chapter XIX. Peace Talk

       Chapter XX. Luis Rojas Talks

       Chapter XXI. "Wagalexa Conka—Cola!”

Chapter I. When Green Grass Comes

       Table of Contents

      Old Applehead Furrman, jogging home across the mesa from Albuquerque, sniffed the soft breeze that came from opal-tinted distances and felt poignantly that spring was indeed here. The grass, thick and green in the sheltered places, was fast painting all the higher ridges and foot-hill slopes, and with the green grass came the lank-bodied, big-kneed calves; which meant that roundup time was at hand. Applehead did not own more than a thousand head of cattle, counting every hoof that walked under his brand. And with the incipient lethargy of old age creeping into his habits of life, roundup time was not with him the important season it once had been; for several years he had been content to hire a couple of men to represent him in the roundups of the larger outfits—men whom he could trust to watch fairly well his interests. By that method he avoided much trouble and hurry

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