THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX
if you wanted to know for sure whether a person lied to you, you had but to watch and listen and let your own eyes and ears prove guilt or innocence.
So Annie-Many-Ponies stood by the rock and listened and watched. She did not see any silver bridle. She heard many words, but the two were speaking in that strange Spanish talk which she did not know at all, save "Querida mia," which Ramon had told her meant sweetheart.
The two talked, low-voiced and earnest. Bill was telling all that he knew of Luck Lindsay's plans—and that was not much.
"He don't talk," Bill complained. "He just tells the bunch a day ahead—just far enough to get their makeup and costumes on, generally. But he won't stay around here much longer; he's taken enough spring roundup stuff now for half a dozen pictures. He'll be moving in to the ranch again pretty quick. And I know this picture calls for a lot of town business that he'll have to take. I saw the script the other day." This, of course, being a free translation of the meaningless jumble of strange words which Annie heard.
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