And at any rate they all knew him--or at least knew of him.
"Aw, gwan, Applehead," Happy Jack urged facetiously, sure that Applehead had tried to scare him with tales of Indians whose pastoral pursuits proclaimed aloud their purity of souls.

"Gwan! You ain't afraid of a couple of squaws, are yuh?
Go on and talk to the ladies.

Mebby yuh might win a wife if yuh just had a little nerve!" Applehead turned and glowered.

But Luck was already walking slowly toward the hogans and looking back frequently, so Applehead contented himself by saying, "You wait till this yere trip's over, 'fore ye git so dang funny in yore remarks, young man!" and stalked after Luck, hitching his six-shooter forward as he went.
At the shed, the Indian who had peered after Pink stood in the doorway and stared unwinkingly as they came up.

Applehead glanced at him sharply from under his sorrel eyebrows and grunted.