"But you aren't sure, so I can't accept that as final. And now, there's something I've been dying to ask you, Mr. Larkin. Just why do cowboys wear their sombreros pinned back like that? You know, I'm gathering local color of the cattle ranges, and I like to get right at the meaning of things." And with that, she pulled a notebook from her pocket and held pencil point to her lips. "Is it some special mark—an insignia of something? An insignia is a mark showing some certain rank," she explained kindly.
"Well, I guess it's an insignia, then," Bud confessed. "But it's a secret and I can't exactly explain. You won't see many wearing this particular badge—insignia." He rolled the word as if it were a new one and he liked the sound.
"Can't you even tell the name of the society or order?"
"Well—I can't go into details," said Bud gravely. "All I can say is it's the range sign of the golden arrow." (He thought she must surely see through that; she must certainly have read about that terrible young god, Cupid, who shot arrows of gold for love and arrows tipped with lead for hate. Surely she would remember that!)
But she didn't.
"The Golden Arrow? I don't—did you ever hear of that secret order, Lawrie?"
"No," said Lawrie indifferently, "not that I remember. But Mr. Larkin and I were going over to see if that posse has caught those bandits, Marge. If the bank doesn't get that money back, and has to close its doors, we're in a fix!"
"I know—but I want to find out about this secret society among the cowboys, Lawrie. It's important that I study cowboys when I get the chance, or how can I write about them realistically? And this Golden Arrow stuff is something no author of Western stories has ever mentioned. Can't you tell me a tiny bit more about it, Mr. Larkin?"
"Well, I know it's about the oldest society on earth," Bud elucidated gravely. "I believe the very first savage—"
"Why, of course! How stupid of me not to see at once that the Golden Arrow must be pure Indian!"