"I was all set to tangle with yuh; and if I had, I reckon I'd a spiled something 'fore I got through." It was noon by the sun, and a film of haze was spreading across the sky.
Luck shot another scene or two and shouldered his precious camera reluctantly, when Rosemary, red-lidded but elaborately cheerful in her manner, called them in to dinner.
"She's goin' to storm, shore's you live," Applehead predicted, sniffing into the wind like a dog confronted by a strange scent.

A little later he looked up from his full plate with a worried air.

"How's a storm goin' to hit ye, Luck ?" he asked.

"Kinda put a stop to the pitcher business, won't it ?" "Not if it snows, it won't," Luck answered calmly, helping himself to the brown beans boiled with bacon.

"We'll round up a bunch of cattle, and I'll shoot my blizzard stuff.