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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by
+Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
+       Bar-20
+
+Author: Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+Release Date: March, 2001  [Etext #2546]
+Posting Date: November 13, 2009
+Last Updated: March 16, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPALONG CASSIDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Heath
+
+
+
+
+
+HOPALONG CASSIDY'S RUSTLER ROUND-UP
+
+or
+
+BAR-20
+
+
+By Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. Buckskin
+
+The town lay sprawled over half a square mile of alkali plain, its main
+Street depressing in its width, for those who were responsible for its
+inception had worked with a generosity born of the knowledge that they
+had at their immediate and unchallenged disposal the broad lands of
+Texas and New Mexico on which to assemble a grand total of twenty
+buildings, four of which were of wood. As this material was scarce, and
+had to be brought from where the waters of the Gulf lapped against the
+flat coast, the last-mentioned buildings were a matter of local pride,
+as indicating the progressiveness of their owners.
+
+These creations of hammer and saw were of one story, crude and
+unpainted; their cheap weather sheathing, warped and shrunken by the
+pitiless sun, curled back on itself and allowed unrestricted entrance to
+alkali dust and air. The other shacks were of adobe, and reposed in that
+magnificent squalor dear to their owners, Indians and Mexicans.
+
+It was an incident of the Cattle Trail, that most unique and stupendous
+of all modern migrations, and its founders must have been inspired with
+a malicious desire to perpetrate a crime against geography, or else they
+reveled in a perverse cussedness, for within a mile on every side lay
+broad prairies, and two miles to the east flowed the indolent waters of
+the Rio Pecos itself. The distance separating the town from the river
+was excusable, for at certain seasons of the year the placid stream
+swelled mightily and swept down in a broad expanse of turbulent, yellow
+flood.
+
+Buckskin was a town of one hundred inhabitants, located in the valley of
+the Rio Pecos fifty miles south of the Texas-New Mexico line. The
+census claimed two hundred, but it was a well-known fact that it was
+exaggerated. One instance of this is shown by the name of Tom Flynn.
+Those who once knew Tom Flynn, alias Johnny Redmond, alias Bill Sweeney,
+alias Chuck Mullen, by all four names, could find them in the census
+list. Furthermore, he had been shot and killed in the March of the
+year preceding the census, and now occupied a grave in the young but
+flourishing cemetery. Perry's Bend, twenty miles up the river, was
+cognizant of this and other facts, and, laughing in open derision at
+the padded list, claimed to be the better town in all ways, including
+marksmanship.
+
+One year before this tale opens, Buck Peters, an example for the more
+recent Billy the Kid, had paid Perry's Bend a short but busy visit. He
+had ridden in at the north end of Main Street and out at the south. As
+he came in he was fired at by a group of ugly cowboys from a ranch known
+as the C 80. He was hit twice, but he unlimbered his artillery, and
+before his horse had carried him, half dead, out on the prairie, he had
+killed one of the group. Several citizens had joined the cowboys
+and added their bullets against Buck. The deceased had been the best
+bartender in the country, and the rage of the suffering citizens can
+well be imagined. They swore vengeance on Buck, his ranch, and his
+stamping ground.
+
+The difference between Buck and Billy the Kid is that the former never
+shot a man who was not trying to shoot him, or who had not been warned
+by some action against Buck that would call for it. He minded his own
+business, never picked a quarrel, and was quiet and pacific up to
+a certain point. After that had been passed he became like a raging
+cyclone in a tenement house, and storm-cellars were much in demand.
+
+“Fanning” is the name of a certain style of gun play not unknown among
+the bad men of the West. While Buck was not a bad man, he had to rub
+elbows with them frequently, and he believed that the sauce for the
+goose was the sauce for the gander. So be bad removed the trigger of his
+revolver and worked the hammer with the thumb of the “gun hand” or the
+heel of the unencumbered hand. The speed thus acquired was greater than
+that of the more modern double-action weapon. Six shots in a few seconds
+was his average speed when that number was required, and when it is
+thoroughly understood that at least some of them found their intended
+bullets it is not difficult to realize that fanning was an operation of
+danger when Buck was doing it.
+
+He was a good rider, as all cowboys are, and was not afraid of anything
+that lived. At one time he and his chums, Red Connors and Hopalong
+Cassidy, had successfully routed a band of fifteen Apaches who wanted
+their scalps. Of these, twelve never hunted scalps again, nor anything
+else on this earth, and the other three returned to their tribe with
+the report that three evil Spirits had chased them with “wheel guns”
+ (cannons).
+
+So now, since his visit to Perry's Bend, the rivalry of the two towns
+had turned to hatred and an alert and eager readiness to increase the
+inhabitants of each other's graveyard. A state of war existed, which for
+a time resulted in nothing worse than acrimonious suggestions. But the
+time came when the score was settled to the satisfaction of one side, at
+least.
+
+Four ranches were also concerned in the trouble. Buckskin was surrounded
+by two, the Bar 20 and the Three Triangle. Perry's Bend was the
+common point for the C 80 and the Double Arrow. Each of the two ranch
+contingents accepted the feud as a matter of course, and as a matter
+of course took sides with their respective towns. As no better class of
+fighters ever lived, the trouble assumed Homeric proportions and insured
+a danger zone well worth watching.
+
+Bar-2's northern line was C 80's southern one, and Skinny Thompson took
+his turn at outriding one morning after the season's round-up. He was to
+follow the boundary and turn back stray cattle. When he had covered the
+greater part of his journey he saw Shorty Jones riding toward him on a
+course parallel to his own and about long revolver range away. Shorty
+and he had “crossed trails” the year before and the best of feelings did
+not exist between them.
+
+Shorty stopped and stared at Skinny, who did likewise at Shorty. Shorty
+turned his mount around and applied the spurs, thereby causing his
+indignant horse to raise both heels at Skinny. The latter took it all
+in gravely and, as Shorty faced him again, placed his left thumb to his
+nose, wiggling his fingers suggestively. Shorty took no apparent notice
+of this but began to shout:
+
+“Yu wants to keep yore busted-down cows on yore own side. They was all
+over us day afore yisterday. I'm goin' to salt any more what comes over,
+and don't yu fergit it, neither.”
+
+Thompson wigwagged with his fingers again and shouted in reply: “Yu c'n
+salt all yu wants to, but if I ketch yu adoin' it yu won't have to work
+no more. An' I kin say right here thet they's more C 80 cows over here
+than they's Bar-20's over there.”
+
+Shorty reached for his revolver and yelled, “Yore a liar!”
+
+Among the cowboys in particular and the Westerners in general at that
+time, the three suicidal terms, unless one was an expert in drawing
+quick and shooting straight with one movement, were the words “liar,”
+ “coward,” and “thief.” Any man who was called one of these in earnest,
+and he was the judge, was expected to shoot if he could and save his
+life, for the words were seldom used without a gun coming with them. The
+movement of Shorty's hand toward his belt before the appellation reached
+him was enough for Skinny, who let go at long range--and missed.
+
+
+The two reports were as one. Both urged their horses nearer and fired
+again. This time Skinny's sombrero gave a sharp jerk and a hole appeared
+in the crown. The third shot of Skinny's sent the horse of the other to
+its knees and then over on its side. Shorty very promptly crawled behind
+it and, as he did so, Skinny began a wide circle, firing at intervals as
+Shorty's smoke cleared away.
+
+Shorty had the best position for defense, as he was in a shallow coule,
+but he knew that he could not leave it until his opponent had either
+grown tired of the affair or had used up his ammunition. Skinny knew it,
+too. Skinny also knew that he could get back to the ranch house and lay
+in a supply of food and ammunition and return before Shorty could cover
+the twelve miles he had to go on foot.
+
+Finally Thompson began to head for home. He had carried the matter as
+far as he could without it being murder. Too much time had elapsed now,
+and, besides, it was before breakfast and he was hungry. He would go
+away and settle the score at some time when they would be on equal
+terms.
+
+He rode along the line for a mile and chanced to look back. Two C 80
+punchers were riding after him, and as they saw him turn and discover
+them they fired at him and yelled. He rode on for some distance and
+cautiously drew his rifle out of its long holster at his right leg.
+Suddenly he turned around in the saddle and fired twice. One of his
+pursuers fell forward on the neck of his horse, and his comrade turned
+to help him. Thompson wig-wagged again and rode on, reaching the ranch
+as the others were finishing their breakfast.
+
+At the table Red Connors remarked that the tardy one had a hole in his
+sombrero, and asked its owner how and where he had received it.
+
+“Had a argument with C 80 out'n th' line.”
+
+“Go 'way! Ventilate enny?”
+
+“One.”
+
+“Good boy, sonny! Hey, Hopalong, Skinny perforated C 80 this mawnin'!”
+
+Hopalong Cassidy was struggling with a mouthful of beef. He turned his
+eyes toward Red without ceasing, and grinning as well as he could under
+the circumstances managed to grunt out “Gu--,” which was as near to
+“Good” as the beef would allow.
+
+Lanky Smith now chimed in as he repeatedly stuck his knife into a
+reluctant boiled potato, “How'd yu do it, Skinny?”
+
+“Bet he sneaked up on him,” joshed Buck Peters; “did yu ask his pardin,
+Skinny?”
+
+“Ask nuthin',” remarked Red, “he jest nachurly walks up to C 80 an' sez,
+'Kin I have the pleasure of ventilatin' yu?' an' C So he sez, 'If yu do
+it easy like,' sez he. Didn't he, Thompson?”
+
+“They'll be some ventilatin' under th' table if yu fellows don't lemme
+alone; I'm hungry,” complained Skinny.
+
+“Say, Hopalong, I bets yu I kin clean up C 80 all by my lonesome,”
+ announced Buck, winking at Red.
+
+“Yah! Yu onct tried to clean up the Bend, Buckie, an' if Pete an' Billy
+hadn't afound yu when they come by Eagle Pass that night yu wouldn't be
+here eatin' beef by th' pound,” glancing at the hard-working Hopalong.
+“It was plum lucky fer yu that they was acourtin' that time, wasn't it,
+Hopalong?” suddenly asked Red. Hopalong nearly strangled in his efforts
+to speak. He gave it up and nodded his head.
+
+“Why can't yu git it straight, Connors? I wasn't doin' no courtin', it
+was Pete. I runned into him on th' other side o' th' pass. I'd look fine
+acourtin', wouldn't I?” asked the downtrodden Williams.
+
+Pete Wilson skillfully flipped a potato into that worthy's coffee,
+spilling the beverage of the questionable name over a large expanse of
+blue flannel shirt. “Yu's all right, yu are. Why, when I meets yu, yu
+was lost in th' arms of yore ladylove. All I could see was yore feet. Go
+an' git tangled up with a two hundred and forty pound half-breed squaw
+an' then try to lay it onter me! When I proposed drownin' yore
+troubles over at Cowan's, yu went an' got mad over what yu called th'
+insinooation. An' yu shore didn't look any too blamed fine, neither.”
+
+“All th' same,” volunteered Thompson, who had taken the edge from his
+appetite, “we better go over an' pay C 80 a call. I don't like what
+Shorty said about saltin' our cattle. He'll shore do it, unless I camps
+on th' line, which same I hain't hankerin' after.”
+
+“Oh, he wouldn't stop th' cows that way, Skinny; he was only afoolin',”
+ exclaimed Connors meekly.
+
+“Foolin' yore gran'mother! That there bunch'll do anything if we wasn't
+lookin',” hotly replied Skinny.
+
+“That's shore nuff gospel, Thomp. They's sore fer mor'n one thing. They
+got aplenty when Buck went on th' warpath, an they's hankerin' to git
+square,” remarked Johnny Nelson, stealing the pie, a rare treat, of his
+neighbor when that unfortunate individual was not looking. He had
+it halfway to his mouth when its former owner, Jimmy Price, a boy of
+eighteen, turned his head and saw it going.
+
+“Hi-yi! Yu clay-bank coyote, drap thet pie! Did yu ever see such a
+son-of-a-gun fer pie?” he plaintively asked Red Connors, as he grabbed
+a mighty handful of apples and crust. “Pie'll kill yu some day, yu
+bob-tailed jack! I had an uncle that died onct. He et too much pie an'
+he went an' turned green, an so'll yu if yu don't let it alone.”
+
+“Yu ought'r seed th' pie Johnny had down in Eagle Flat,” murmured Lanky
+Smith reminiscently. “She had feet that'd stop a stampede. Johnny
+was shore loco about her. Swore she was the finest blossom that
+ever growed.” Here he choked and tears of laughter coursed down his
+weather-beaten face as he pictured her. “She was a dainty Mexican, about
+fifteen han's high an' about sixteen han's around. Johnny used to chalk
+off when he hugged her, usen't yu, Johnny? One night when he had got
+purty well around on th' second lap he run inter a feller jest startin'
+out on his fust. They hain't caught that Mexican yet.”
+
+Nelson was pelted with everything in sight. He slowly wiped off the
+pie crust and bread and potatoes. “Anybody'd think I was a busted grub
+wagon,” he grumbled. When he had fished the last piece of beef out of
+his ear he went out and offered to stand treat. As the round-up was
+over, they slid into their saddles and raced for Cowan's saloon at
+Buckskin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. The Rashness of Shorty
+
+Buckskin was very hot; in fact it was never anything else. Few people
+were on the streets and the town was quiet. Over in the Houston hotel
+a crowd of cowboys was lounging in the barroom. They were very quiet--a
+condition as rare as it was ominous. Their mounts, twelve in all, were
+switching flies from their quivering skins in the corral at the rear.
+Eight of these had a large C 80 branded on their flanks; the other four,
+a Double Arrow.
+
+In the barroom a slim, wiry man was looking out of the dirty window
+up the street at Cowan's saloon. Shorty was complaining, “They shore
+oughter be here now. They rounded up last week.” The man nearest assured
+him that they would come. The man at the window turned and said, “They's
+yer now.”
+
+
+In front of Cowan's a crowd of nine happy-go-lucky, daredevil riders
+were sliding from their saddles. They threw their reins over the heads
+of their mounts and filed in to the bar. Laughter issued from the open
+door and the clink of glasses could be heard. They stood in picturesque
+groups, strong, self-reliant, humorous, virile. Their expensive
+sombreros were pushed far back on their heads and their hairy chaps were
+covered with the alkali dust from their ride.
+
+Cowan, bottle in hand, pushed out several more glasses. He kicked a dog
+from under his feet and looked at Buck. “Rounded up yet?” he inquired.
+
+“Shore, day afore yisterday,” came the reply. The rest were busy
+removing the dust from their throats, and gradually drifted into groups
+of two or three. One of these groups strolled over to the solitary card
+table, and found Jimmy Price resting in a cheap chair, his legs on the
+table.
+
+“I wisht yu'd extricate yore delicate feet from off'n this hyar table,
+James,” humbly requested Lanky Smith, morally backed up by those with
+him.
+
+“Ya-as, they shore is delicate, Mr. Smith,” responded Jimmy without
+moving.
+
+“We wants to play draw, Jimmy,” explained Pete.
+
+“Yore shore welcome to play if yu wants to. Didn't I tell yu when yu
+growed that mustache that yu didn't have to ask me any more?” queried
+the placid James, paternally.
+
+“Call 'em off, sonny. Pete sez he kin clean me out. Anyhow, yu kin have
+the fust deal,” compromised Lanky.
+
+“I'm shore sorry fer Pete if he cayn't. Yu don't reckon I has to have
+fust deal to beat yu fellers, do yu? Go way an' lemme alone; I never
+seed such a bunch fer buttin' in as yu fellers.”
+
+Billy Williams returned to the bar. Then he walked along it until he
+was behind the recalcitrant possessor of the table. While his aggrieved
+friends shuffled their feet uneasily to cover his approach, he tiptoed
+up behind Jimmy and, with a nod, grasped that indignant individual
+firmly by the neck while the others grabbed his feet. They carried him,
+twisting and bucking, to the middle of the street and deposited him in
+the dust, returning to the now vacant table.
+
+Jimmy rested quietly for a few seconds and then slowly arose, dusting
+the alkali from him.
+
+“Th' wall-eyed piruts,” he muttered, and then scratched his head for
+a way to “play hunk.” As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a
+snicker from behind him. He, thinking it was one of his late tormentors,
+paid no attention to it. Then a cynical, biting laugh stung him. He
+wheeled, to see Shorty leaning against a tree, a sneering leer on his
+flushed face. Shorty's right hand was suspended above his holster,
+hooked to his belt by the thumb--a favorite position of his when
+expecting trouble.
+
+“One of yore reg'lar habits?” he drawled.
+
+Jimmy began to dust himself in silence, but his lips were compressed to
+a thin white line.
+
+“Does they hurt yu?” pursued the onlooker.
+
+Jimmy looked up. “I heard tell that they make glue outen cayuses,
+sometimes,” he remarked.
+
+Shorty's eyes flashed. The loss of the horse had been rankling in his
+heart all day.
+
+“Does they git yu frequent?” he asked. His voice sounded hard.
+
+“Oh, 'bout as frequent as yu lose a cayuse, I reckon,” replied Jimmy
+hotly.
+
+Shorty's hand streaked to his holster and Jimmy followed his lead.
+Jimmy's Colt was caught. He had bucked too much. As he fell Shorty ran
+for the Houston House.
+
+Pistol shots were common, for they were the universal method of
+expressing emotions. The poker players grinned, thinking their victim
+was letting off his indignation. Lanky sized up his hand and remarked
+half audibly, “He's a shore good kid.”
+
+The bartender, fearing for his new beveled, gilt-framed mirror, gave a
+hasty glance out the window. He turned around, made change and remarked
+to Buck, “Yore kid, Jimmy, is plugged.” Several of the more credulous
+craned their necks to see, Buck being the first. “Judas!” he shouted,
+and ran out to where Jimmy lay coughing, his toes twitching. The saloon
+was deserted and a crowd of angry cowboys surrounded their chum-aboy.
+Buck had seen Shorty enter the door of the Houston House and he swore.
+“Chase them C 80 and Arrow cayuses behind the saloon, Pete, an' git
+under cover.”
+
+Jimmy was choking and he coughed up blood. “He's shore--got me. My--gun
+stuck,” he added apologetically. He tried to sit up, but was not able
+and he looked surprised. “It's purty-damn hot-out here,” he suggested.
+Johnny and Billy carried him in the saloon and placed him by the table,
+in the chair he had previously vacated. As they stood up he fell across
+the table and died.
+
+Billy placed the dead boy's sombrero on his head and laid the refractory
+six-shooter on the table. “I wonder who th' dirty killer was.” He looked
+at the slim figure and started to go out, followed by Johnny. As he
+reached the threshold a bullet zipped past him and thudded into the
+frame of the door. He backed away and looked surprised. “That's Shorty's
+shootin'--he allus misses 'bout that much.” He looked out and saw Buck
+standing behind the live oak that Shorty had leaned against, firing at
+the hotel. Turning around he made for the rear, remarking to Johnny that
+“they's in th' Houston.” Johnny looked at the quiet figure in the chair
+and swore softly. He followed Billy. Cowan, closing the door and taking
+a buffalo gun from under the bar, went out also and slammed the rear
+door forcibly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. The Argument
+
+Up the street two hundred yards from the Houston House Skinny and Pete
+lay hidden behind a bowlder. Three hundred yards on the other side of
+the hotel Johnny and Billy were stretched out in an arroyo. Buck was
+lying down now, and Hopalong, from his position in the barn belonging to
+the hotel, was methodically dropping the horses of the besieged, a job
+he hated as much as he hated poison. The corral was their death trap.
+Red and Lanky were emitting clouds of smoke from behind the store,
+immediately across the street from the barroom. A buffalo gun roared
+down by the plaza and several Sharps cracked a protest from different
+points. The town had awakened and the shots were dropping steadily.
+
+Strange noises filled the air. They grew in tone and volume and then
+dwindled away to nothing. The hum of the buffalo gun and the sobbing
+pi-in-in-ing of the Winchesters were liberally mixed with the sharp
+whines of the revolvers.
+
+There were no windows in the hotel now. Raw furrows in the bleached wood
+showed yellow, and splinters mysteriously sprang from the casings. The
+panels of the door were producing cracks and the cheap door handle
+flew many ways at once. An empty whisky keg on the stoop boomed out
+mournfully at intervals and finally rolled down the steps with a
+rumbling protest. Wisps of smoke slowly climbed up the walls and seemed
+to be waving defiance to the curling wisps in the open.
+
+
+Pete raised his shoulder to refill the magazine of his smoking rifle and
+dropped the cartridges all over his lap. He looked sheepishly at Skinny
+and began to load with his other hand.
+
+“Yore plum loco, yu are. Don't yu reckon they kin hit a blue shirt
+at two hundred?” Skinny cynically inquired. “Got one that time,” he
+announced a second later.
+
+“I wonder who's got th' buffalo,” grunted Pete. “Mus' be Cowan,” he
+replied to his own question and settled himself to use his left hand.
+
+“Don't yu git Shorty; he's my meat,” suggested Skinny.
+
+“Yu better tell Buck--he ain't got no love fer Shorty,” replied Pete,
+aiming carefully.
+
+The panic in the corral ceased and Hopalong was now sending his regrets
+against the panels of the rear door. He had cut his last initial in the
+near panel and was starting a wobbly “H” in its neighbor. He was in a
+good position. There were no windows in the rear wall, and as the door
+was a very dangerous place he was not fired at.
+
+He began to get tired of this one-sided business and crawled up on the
+window ledge, dangling his feet on the outside. He occasionally sent a
+bullet at a different part of the door, but amused himself by annoying
+Buck.
+
+“Plenty hot down there?” he pleasantly inquired, and as he received no
+answer he tried again. “Better save some of them cartridges fer some
+other time, Buck.”
+
+Buck was sending 45-70's into the shattered window with a precision that
+presaged evil to any of the defenders who were rash enough to try to
+gain the other end of the room.
+
+Hopalong bit off a chew of tobacco and drowned a green fly that was
+crawling up the side of the barn. The yellow liquid streaked downward a
+short distance and was eagerly sucked up by the warped boards.
+
+A spurt of smoke leaped from the battered door and the bored Hopalong
+promptly tumbled back inside. He felt of his arm, and then, delighted
+at the notice taken of his artistic efforts, shot several times from
+a crack on his right. “This yer's shore gittin' like home,” he gravely
+remarked to the splinter that whizzed past his head. He shot again at
+the door and it sagged outward, accompanied by the thud of a falling
+body. “Pies like mother used to make,” he announced to the loft as he
+slipped the magazine full of .45-70's. “An' pills like popper used to
+take,” he continued when he had lowered the level of the water in his
+flask.
+
+He rolled a cigarette and tossed the match into the air, extinguishing
+it by a shot from his Colt.
+
+“Got any cigarettes, Hoppy?” said a voice from below.
+
+“Shore,” replied the joyous puncher, recognizing Pete; “how'd yu git
+here?”
+
+“Like a cow. Busy?”
+
+“None whatever. Comin' up?”
+
+“Nope. Skinny wants a smoke too.”
+
+Hopalong handed tobacco and papers down the hole. “So long.”
+
+“So long,” replied the daring Pete, who risked death twice for a smoke.
+
+The hot afternoon dragged along and about three o'clock Buck held up an
+empty cartridge belt to the gaze of the curious Hopalong. That observant
+worthy nodded and threw a double handful of cartridges, one by one, to
+the patient and unrelenting Buck, who filled his gun and piled the few
+remaining ones up at his side. “Th' lives of mice and men gang aft all
+wrong,” he remarked at random.
+
+“Th' son-of-a-gun's talkin' Shakespeare,” marveled Hopalong. “Satiate
+any, Buck?” he asked as that worthy settled down to await his chance.
+
+“Two,” he replied, “Shorty an' another. Plenty damn hot down here,” he
+complained. A spurt of alkali dust stung his face, but the hand that
+made it never made another. “Three,” he called. “How many, Hoppy?”
+
+ “One. That's four.  Wonder if th' others got any?”
+
+“Pete said Skinny got one,” replied the intent Buck.
+
+“Th' son-of-a-gun, he never said nothin' about it, an' me a fillin' his
+ornery paws with smokin'.” Hopalong was indignant.
+
+“Bet yu ten we don't git 'em afore dark,” he announced.
+
+“Got yu. Go yu ten more I gits another,” promptly responded Buck.
+
+“That's a shore cinch. Make her twenty.”
+
+“She is.”
+
+“Yu'll have to square it with Skinny, he shore wanted Shorty plum' bad,”
+ Hopalong informed the unerring marksman.
+
+“Why didn't he say suthin' about it? Anyhow, Jimmy was my bunkie.”
+
+Hopalong's cigarette disintegrated and the board at his left received
+a hole. He promptly disappeared and Buck laughed. He sat up in the loft
+and angrily spat the soaked paper out from between his lips.
+
+“All that trouble fer nothin', th' white-eyed coyote,” he muttered.
+Then he crawled around to one side and fired at the center of his “C.”
+ Another shot hurtled at him and his left arm fell to his side. “That's
+funny--wonder where th' damn pirut is?” He looked out cautiously and saw
+a cloud of smoke over a knothole which was situated close up under the
+eaves of the barroom; and it was being agitated. Some one was blowing at
+it to make it disappear. He aimed very carefully at the knot and fired.
+He heard a sound between a curse and a squawk and was not molested any
+further from that point.
+
+“I knowed he'd git hurt,” he explained to the bandage, torn from the
+edge of his kerchief, which he carefully bound around his last wound.
+
+Down in the arroyo Johnny was complaining.
+
+“This yer's a no good bunk,” he plaintively remarked.
+
+“It shore ain't--but it's th' best we kin find,” apologized Billy.
+
+“That's th' sixth that feller sent up there. He's a damn poor shot,”
+ observed Johnny; “must be Shorty.”
+
+“Shorty kin shoot plum' good--tain't him,” contradicted Billy.
+
+“Yas--with a six-shooter. He's off'n his feed with a rifle,” explained
+Johnny.
+
+“Yu wants to stay down from up there, yu ijit,” warned Billy as the
+disgusted Johnny crawled up the bank. He slid down again with a welt on
+his neck.
+
+“That's somebody else now. He oughter a done better'n that,” he said.
+
+Billy had fired as Johnny started to slide and he smoothed his aggrieved
+chum. “He could onct, yu means.”
+
+“Did yu git him?” asked the anxious Johnny, rubbing his welt. “Plum'
+center,” responded the business-like Billy. “Go up agin, mebby I kin git
+another,” he suggested tentatively.
+
+“Mebby you kin go to blazes. I ain't no gallery,” grinned the now
+exuberant owner of the welt.
+
+“Who's got the buffalo?” he inquired as the great gun roared.
+
+“Mus' be Cowan. He's shore all right. Sounds like a bloomin' cannon,”
+ replied Billy. “Lemme alone with yore fool questions, I'm busy,” he
+complained as his talkative partner started to ask another. “Go an' git
+me some water--I'm alkalied. An' git some .45's, mine's purty near gone.”
+
+Johnny crawled down the arroyo and reappeared at Hopalong's barn.
+
+As he entered the door a handful of empty shells fell on his hat and
+dropped to the floor. He shook his head and remarked, “That mus' be that
+fool Hopalong.”
+
+“Yore shore right. How's business?” inquired the festive Cassidy.
+
+“Purty fair. Billy's got one. How many's gone?”
+
+“Buck's got three, I got two and Skinny's got one. That's six, an' Billy
+is seven. They's five more,” he replied.
+
+“How'd yu know?” queried Johnny as he filled his flask at the horse
+trough.
+
+“Because they's twelve cayuses behind the hotel. That's why.”
+
+“They might git away on 'em,” suggested the practical Johnny.
+
+“Can't. They's all cashed in.”
+
+“Yu said that they's five left,” ejaculated the puzzled water carrier.
+
+“Yah; yore a smart cuss, ain't yu?”
+
+Johnny grinned and then said, “Got any smokin'?” Hopalong looked
+grieved. “I ain't no store. Why don't yu git generous and buy some?”
+
+He partially filled Johnny's hand, and as he put the sadly depleted bag
+away he inquired, “Got any papers?”
+
+“Nope.”
+
+“Got any matches?” he asked cynically.
+
+“Nope.”
+
+“Kin yu smoke 'em?” he yelled, indignantly.
+
+“Shore nuff,” placidly replied the unruffled Johnny. “Billy wants some
+.45-70's.”
+
+Hopalong gasped. “Don't he want my gun, too?”
+
+“Nope. Got a better one. Hurry up, he'll git mad.” Hopalong was a very
+methodical person. He was the only one of his crowd to carry a second
+cartridge strap. It hung over his right shoulder and rested on his
+left hip. His waist belt held thirty cartridges for the revolvers. He
+extracted twenty from that part of the shoulder strap hardest to get at,
+the back, by simply pulling it over his shoulder and plucking out the
+bullets as they came into reach.
+
+“That's all yu kin have. I'm Buck's ammernition jackass,” he explained.
+“Bet yu ten we gits 'em afore dark”--he was hedging.
+
+“Any fool knows that. I'll take yu if yu bets th' other way,” responded
+Johnny, grinning. He knew Hopalong's weak spot.
+
+“Yore on,” promptly responded Hopalong, who would bet on anything.
+
+
+“Well, so long,” said Johnny as he crawled away.
+
+“Hey, yu, Johnny!” called out Hopalong, “don't yu go an' tell anybody I
+got any pills left. I ain't no ars'nal.”
+
+Johnny replied by elevating one foot and waving it. Then he disappeared.
+
+Behind the store, the most precarious position among the besiegers,
+Red Connors and Lanky Smith were ensconced and commanded a view of the
+entire length of the barroom. They could see the dark mass they knew to
+be the rear door and derived a great amount of amusement from the spots
+of light which were appearing in it.
+
+They watched the “C” (reversed to them) appear and be completed. When
+the wobbly “H” grew to completion they laughed heartily. Then the
+hardwood bar had been dragged across the field of vision and up to the
+front windows, and they could only see the indiscriminate holes which
+appeared in the upper panels at frequent intervals.
+
+Every time they fired they had to expose a part of themselves to a
+return shot, with the result that Lanky's forearm was seared its entire
+length. Red had been more fortunate and only had a bruised ear.
+
+They laboriously rolled several large rocks out in the open, pushing
+them beyond the shelter of the store with their rifles. When they had
+crawled behind them they each had another wound. From their new position
+they could see Hopalong sitting in his window. He promptly waved his
+sombrero and grinned.
+
+They were the most experienced fighters of all except Buck, and were
+saving their shots. When they did shoot they always had some portion of
+a man's body to aim at, and the damage they inflicted was considerable.
+They said nothing, being older than the rest and more taciturn, and
+they were not reckless. Although Hopalong's antics made them laugh, they
+grumbled at his recklessness and were not tempted to emulate him. It was
+noticeable, too, that they shoved their rifles out simultaneously and,
+although both were aiming, only one fired. Lanky's gun cracked so close
+to the enemy's that the whirr of the bullet over Red's head was merged
+in the crack of his partner's reply.
+
+When Hopalong saw the rocks roll out from behind the store he grew very
+curious. Then he saw a flash, followed instantly by another from the
+second rifle. He saw several of these follow shots and could sit in
+silence no longer. He waved his hat to attract attention and then
+shouted, “How many?” A shot was sent straight up in the air and he
+notified Buck that there were only four left.
+
+The fire of these four grew less rapid--they were saving their
+ammunition. A pot shot at Hopalong sent that gentleman's rifle hurtling
+to the ground. Another tore through his hat, removing a neat amount of
+skin and hair and giving him a lifelong part. He fell back inside
+and proceeded to shoot fast and straight with his revolvers, his head
+burning as though on fire. When he had vented the dangerous pressure
+of his anger he went below and tried to fish the rifle in with a long
+stick. It was obdurate, so he sent three more shots into the door, and,
+receiving no reply, ran out around the corner of his shelter and grasped
+the weapon. When half way back he sank to the ground. Before another
+shot could be fired at him with any judgment a ripping, spitting rifle
+was being frantically worked from the barn. The bullets tore the door
+into seams and gaps; the lowest panel, the one having the “H” in it,
+fell inward in chunks. Johnny had returned for another smoke.
+
+Hopalong, still grasping the rifle, rolled rapidly around the corner of
+the barn. He endeavored to stand, but could not. Johnny, hearing rapid
+and fluent swearing, came out.
+
+“Where'd they git yu?” he asked.
+
+ “In th' off leg.  Hurts like blazes.  Did yu git him?”
+
+“Nope. I jest come fer another cig; got any left?”
+
+“Up above. Yore gall is shore apallin'. Help me in, yu two-laigged
+jackass.”
+
+“Shore. We'll shore pay our 'tentions to that door. She'll go purty
+soon--she's as full of holes as th' Bad Lan's,” replied Johnny. “Git
+aholt an' hop along, Hopalong.”
+
+He helped the swearing Hopalong inside, and then the lead they pumped
+into the wrecked door was scandalous. Another panel fell in and
+Hopalong's “C” was destroyed. A wide crack appeared in the one above it
+and grew rapidly. Its mate began to gape and finally both were driven
+in. The increase in the light caused by these openings allowed Red and
+Lanky to secure better aim and soon the fire of the defenders died out.
+
+Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and
+dashed for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening
+with a fusilade.
+
+As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly missed
+sudden death. As it was he staggered to the side, out of range, and
+dropped full length to the ground, flat on his face. Hopalong's rifle
+cracked incessantly, but to no avail. The man who had fired the shot was
+dead. Buck got him immediately after he had shot Johnny.
+
+Calling to Skinny and Red to cover him, Buck sprinted to where Johnny
+lay gasping. The bullet had struck his shoulder. Buck, Colt in hand,
+leaped through the door, but met with no resistance. He signaled to
+Hopalong, who yelled, “They's none left.”
+
+The trees and rocks and gullies and buildings yielded men who soon
+crowded around the hotel. A young doctor, lately graduated, appeared. It
+was his first case, but he eased Johnny. Then he went over to Hopalong,
+who was now raving, and attended to him. The others were patched up
+as well as possible and the struggling young physician had his pockets
+crammed full of gold and silver coins.
+
+The scene of the wrecked barroom was indescribable. Holes, furrows,
+shattered glass and bottles, the liquor oozing down the walls of the
+shelves and running over the floor; the ruined furniture, a wrecked bar,
+seared and shattered and covered with blood; bodies as they had been
+piled in the corners; ropes, shells, hats; and liquor everywhere, over
+everything, met the gaze of those who had caused the chaos.
+
+Perry's Bend had failed to wipe out the score.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. The Vagrant Sioux
+
+
+Buckskin gradually readjusted itself to the conditions which had existed
+before its sudden leap into the limelight as a town which did things.
+The soiree at the Houston House had drifted into the past, and was
+now substantially established as an epoch in the history of the
+town. Exuberant joy gave way to dignity and deprecation, and to solid
+satisfaction; and the conversations across the bar brought forth
+parallels of the affair to be judged impartially--and the impartial
+judgment was, unanimously, that while there had undoubtedly been good
+fights before Perry's Bend had disturbed the local quiet, they were not
+quite up to the new standard of strenuous hospitality. Finally the heat
+blistered everything back into the old state, and the shadows continued
+to be in demand.
+
+One afternoon, a month after the reception of the honorable delegation
+from Perry's Bend, the town of Buckskin seemed desolated, and the earth
+and the buildings thereon were as huge furnaces radiating a visible
+heat, but when the blazing sun had begun to settle in the west it awoke
+with a clamor which might have been laid to the efforts of a zealous
+Satan. At this time it became the Mecca of two score or more joyous
+cowboys from the neighboring ranches, who livened things as those
+knights of the saddle could.
+
+In the scant but heavy shadow of Cowan's saloon sat a picturesque figure
+from whom came guttural, resonant rumblings which mingled in a spirit of
+loneliness with the fretful sighs of a flea-tormented dog. Both dog and
+master were vagrants, and they were tolerated because it was a matter of
+supreme indifference as to who came or how long they stayed as long as
+the ethics and the unwritten law of the cow country were inviolate. And
+the breaking of these caused no unnecessary anxiety, for justice was
+both speedy and sure.
+
+When the outcast Sioux and his yellow dog had drifted into town some few
+months before they had caused neither expostulation nor inquiry, as the
+cardinal virtue of that whole broad land was to ask a man no questions
+which might prove embarrassing to all concerned; judgment was of
+observation, not of history, and a man's past would reveal itself
+through actions. It mattered little whether he was an embezzler or the
+wild chip from some prosperous eastern block, as men came to the range
+to forget and to lose touch with the pampered East; and the range
+absorbed them as its own.
+
+
+
+A man was only a man as his skin contained the qualities necessary; and
+the illiterate who could ride and shoot and live to himself was far more
+esteemed than the educated who could not do those things. The more a man
+depends upon himself and the closer is his contact to a quick judgment
+the more laconic and even-poised he becomes. And the knowledge that he
+is himself a judge tends to create caution and judgment. He has no court
+to uphold his honor and to offer him protection, so he must be quick to
+protect himself and to maintain his own standing. His nature saved him,
+or it executed; and the range absolved him of all unpaid penalties of a
+careless past.
+
+He became a man born again and he took up his burden, the exactions of
+a new environment, and he lived as long as those exactions gave him the
+right to live. He must tolerate no restrictions of his natural rights,
+and he must not restrict; for the one would proclaim him a coward,
+the other a bully; and both received short shrifts in that land of the
+self-protected. The basic law of nature is the survival of the fittest.
+
+So, when the wanderers found their level in Buckskin they were not even
+asked by what name men knew them. Not caring to hear a name which might
+not harmonize with their idea of the fitness of things, the cowboys of
+the Bar-20 had, with a freedom born of excellent livers and fearless
+temperaments, bestowed names befitting their sense of humor and
+adaptability. The official title of the Sioux was By-and-by; the dog was
+known as Fleas. Never had names more clearly described the objects to be
+represented, for they were excellent examples of cowboy discernment and
+aptitude.
+
+In their eyes By-and-by was a man. He could feel and he could resent
+insults. They did not class him as one of themselves, because he did not
+have energy enough to demand and justify such classification. With them
+he had a right to enjoy his life as he saw fit so long as he did not
+trespass on or restrict the rights of others. They were not analytic
+in temperament, neither were they moralists. He was not a menace to
+society, because society had superb defenses. So they vaguely recognized
+his many poor qualities and clearly saw his few good ones. He could
+shoot, when permitted, with the best; no horse, however refractory, had
+ever been known to throw him; he was an adept at following the trails
+left by rustlers, and that was an asset; he became of value to the
+community; he was an economic factor.
+
+His ability to consume liquor with indifferent effects raised him
+another notch in their estimation. He was not always talking when some
+one else wished to--another count. There remained about him that stoical
+indifference to the petty; that observant nonchalance of the Indian;
+and there was a suggestion, faint, it was true, of a dignity common to
+chieftains. He was a log of grave deference which tossed on their sea of
+mischievous hilarity.
+
+He wore a pair of corduroy trousers, known to the care-free as “pants,”
+ which were held together by numerous patches of what had once been
+brilliantly colored calico. A pair of suspenders, torn into two separate
+straps, made a belt for himself and a collar for his dog. The trousers
+had probably been secured during a fit of absent-mindedness on his part
+when their former owner had not been looking. Tucked at intervals in
+the top of the corduroys (the exceptions making convenient shelves for
+alkali dust) was what at one time had been a stiff-bosomed shirt. This
+was open down the front and back, the weight of the trousers on the belt
+holding it firmly on the square shoulders of the wearer, thus precluding
+the necessity of collar buttons. A pair of moccasins, beautifully worked
+with wampum, protected his feet from the onslaughts of cacti and the
+inquisitive and pugnacious sand flies; and lying across his lap was
+a repeating Winchester rifle, not dangerous because it was empty, a
+condition due to the wisdom of the citizens in forbidding any one to
+sell, trade or give to him those tubes of concentrated trouble, because
+he could get drunk.
+
+The two were contented and happy. They had no cares nor duties, and
+their pleasures were simple and easily secured, as they consisted of
+sleep and a proneness to avoid moving. Like the untrammeled coyote,
+their bed was where sleep overtook them; their food, what the night
+wrapped in a sense of security, or the generosity of the cowboys of the
+Bar-20. No tub-ridden Diogenes ever knew so little of responsibility or
+as much unadulterated content. There is a penalty even to civilization
+and ambition.
+
+When the sun had cast its shadows beyond By-and-by's feet the air became
+charged with noise; shouts, shots and the rolling thunder of madly
+pounding hoofs echoed flatly throughout the town. By-and-by yawned,
+stretched and leaned back, reveling in the semi-conscious ecstasy of the
+knowledge that he did not have to immediately get up. Fleas opened one
+eye and cocked an ear in inquiry, and then rolled over on his back,
+squirmed and sighed contentedly and long. The outfit of the Bar-20 had
+come to town.
+
+The noise came rapidly nearer and increased in volume as the riders
+turned the corner and drew rein suddenly, causing their mounts to slide
+on their haunches in ankle-deep dust.
+
+“Hullo, old Buck-with-th'-pants, how's yore liver?”
+
+“Come up an irrigate, old tank!”
+
+“Chase th' flea ranch an' trail along!”
+
+These were a few of the salutations discernible among the medley of
+playful yells, the safety valves of supercharged good-nature.
+
+“Skr-e-e!” yelled Hopalong Cassidy, letting off a fusillade of shots in
+the vicinity of Fleas, who rapidly retreated around the corner, where he
+wagged his tail in eager expectation. He was not disappointed, for a cow
+pony tore around in pursuit and Hopalong leaned over and scratched the
+yellow back, thumping it heartily, and, tossing a chunk of beef into the
+open jaws of the delighted dog, departed as he had come. The advent of
+the outfit meant a square meal, and the dog knew it.
+
+In Cowan's, lined up against the bar, the others were earnestly and
+assiduously endeavoring, with a promise of success, to get By-and-by
+drunk, which endeavors coincided perfectly with By-and-by's idea of the
+fitness of things. The fellowship and the liquor combined to thaw
+out his reserve and to loosen his tongue. After gazing with an air of
+injured surprise at the genial loosening of his knees he gravely handed
+his rifle with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, to the cowboy nearest
+him, and wrapped his arms around the recipient to insure his balance.
+The rifle was passed from hand to hand until it came to Buck Peters, who
+gravely presented it to its owner as a new gun.
+
+By-and-by threw out his stomach in an endeavor to keep his head in line
+with his heels, and grasping the weapon with both hands turned to Cowan,
+to whom he gave it.
+
+“Yu hab this un. Me got two. Me keep new un, mebby so.” Then he loosened
+his belt and drank long and deep.
+
+A shadow darkened the doorway and Hopalong limped in. Spying By-and-by
+pushing the bottle into his mouth, while Red Connors propped him,
+he grinned and took out five silver dollars, which he jingled under
+By-and-by's eyes, causing that worthy to lay aside the liquor and
+erratically grab for the tantalizing fortune.
+
+“Not yet, sabe?” said Hopalong, changing the position of the money. “If
+yu wants to corral this here herd of simoleons yu has to ride a cayuse
+what Red bet me yu can't ride. Yu has got to grow on that there saddle
+and stayed growed for five whole minutes by Buck's ticker. I ain't
+a-goin' to tell yu he's any saw-horse, for yu'd know better, as yu
+reckons Red wouldn't bet on no losin' proposition if he knowed better,
+which same he don't. Yu straddles that four-laigged cloudburst an' yu
+gets these, sabe? I ain't seen th' cayuse yet that yu couldn't freeze
+to, an' I'm backin' my opinions with my moral support an' one month's
+pay.”
+
+By-and-by's eyes began to glitter as the meaning of the words
+sifted through his befuddled mind. Ride a horse--five dollars--ride a
+five-dollars horse--horses ride dollars--then he straightened up and
+began to speak in an incoherent jumble of Sioux and bad English. He,
+the mighty rider of the Sioux; he, the bravest warrior and the greatest
+hunter; could he ride a horse for five dollars? Well, he rather thought
+he could. Grasping Red by the shoulder, he tacked for the door and
+narrowly missed hitting the bottom step first, landing, as it happened,
+in the soft dust with Red's leg around his neck. Somewhat sobered by the
+jar, he stood up and apologized to the crowd for Red getting in the way,
+declaring that Red was a “Heap good un,” and that he didn't mean to do
+it.
+
+The outfit of the Bar-20 was, perhaps, the most famous of all from
+Canada to the Rio Grande. The foreman, Buck Peters, controlled a crowd
+of men (who had all the instincts of boys) that had shown no quarter
+to many rustlers, and who, while always carefree and easy-going (even
+fighting with great good humor and carelessness), had established the
+reputation of being the most reckless gang of daredevil gun-fighters
+that ever pounded leather. Crooked gaming houses, from El Paso
+to Cheyenne and from Phoenix to Leavenworth, unanimously and
+enthusiastically damned them from their boots to their sombreros, and
+the sheriffs and marshals of many localities had received from their
+hands most timely assistance--and some trouble. Wiry, indomitable,
+boyish and generous, they were splendid examples of virile manhood; and,
+surrounded as they were with great dangers and a unique civilization,
+they should not, in justice, be judged by opinions born of the
+commonplace.
+
+They were real cowboys, which means, public opinion to the contrary
+notwithstanding, that they were not lawless, nor drunken, shooting
+bullies who held life cheaply, as their kin has been unjustly pictured;
+but while these men were naturally peaceable they had to continually
+rub elbows with men who were not. Gamblers, criminals, bullies and the
+riffraff that fled from the protected East had drifted among them in
+great numbers, and it was this class that caused the trouble.
+
+The hardworking “cow-punchers” lived according to the law of the land,
+and they obeyed that greatest of all laws, that of self-preservation.
+Their fun was boisterous, but they paid for all the damage they
+inflicted; their work was one continual hardship, and the reaction of
+one extreme swings far toward the limit of its antithesis. Go back to
+the Apple if you would trace the beginning of self-preservation and the
+need.
+
+Buck Peters was a man of mild appearance, somewhat slow of speech and
+correspondingly quick of action, who never became flurried. His was the
+master hand that controlled, and his Colts enjoyed the reputation of
+never missing when a hit could have been expected with reason. Many
+floods, stampedes and blizzards had assailed his nerves, but he yet
+could pour a glass of liquor, held at arm's length, through a knothole
+in the floor without wetting the wood.
+
+Next in age came Lanky Smith, a small, undersized man of retiring
+disposition. Then came Skinny Thompson, six feet four on his bared
+soles, and true to his name; Hopalong described him as “th' shadow of a
+chalk mark.” Pete Wilson, the slow-witted and very taciturn, and
+Billy Williams, the wavering pessimist, were of ordinary height and
+appearance. Red Connors, with hair that shamed the name, was the
+possessor of a temper which was as dry as tinder; his greatest weakness
+was his regard for the rifle as a means of preserving peace. Johnny
+Nelson was the protege, and he could do no wrong.
+
+The last, Hopalong Cassidy, was a combination of irresponsibility,
+humor, good nature, love of fighting, and nonchalance when face to face
+with danger. His most prominent attribute was that of always getting
+into trouble without any intention of so doing; in fact, he was much
+aggrieved and surprised when it came. It seemed as though when any “bad
+man” desired to add to his reputation he invariably selected Hopalong as
+the means (a fact due, perhaps, to the perversity of things in general).
+Bad men became scarce soon after Hopalong became a fixture in any
+locality. He had been crippled some years before in a successful
+attempt to prevent the assassination of a friend, Sheriff Harris, of
+Albuquerque, and he still possessed a limp.
+
+When Red had relieved his feelings and had dug the alkali out of his
+ears and eyes, he led the Sioux to the rear of the saloon, where a
+“pinto” was busily engaged in endeavoring to pitch a saddle from his
+back, employing the intervals in trying to see how much of the picket
+rope he could wrap around his legs.
+
+When By-and-by saw what he was expected to ride he felt somewhat
+relieved, for the pony did not appear to have more than the ordinary
+amount of cussedness. He waved his hand, and Johnny and Red bandaged the
+animal's eyes, which quieted him at once, and then they untangled
+the rope from around his legs and saw that the cinches were secure.
+Motioning to By-and-by that all was ready, they jerked the bandage off
+as the Indian settled himself in the saddle.
+
+Had By-and-by been really sober he would have taken the conceit out of
+that pony in chunks, and as it was he experienced no great difficulty in
+holding his seat; but in his addled state of mind he grasped the end of
+the cinch strap in such a way that when the pony jumped forward in
+its last desperate effort the buckle slipped and the cinch became
+unfastened; and By-and-by, still seated in the saddle, flew head
+foremost into the horse trough, where he spilled much water.
+
+As this happened Cowan turned the corner, and when he saw the wasted
+water (which he had to carry, bucketful at a time, from the wells a good
+quarter of a mile away) his anger blazed forth, and yelling, he ran
+for the drenched Sioux, who was just crawling out of his bath. When the
+unfortunate saw the irate man bearing down on him he sputtered in rage
+and fear, and, turning, he ran down the street, with Cowan thundering
+flatfootedly behind on a fat man's gallop, to the hysterical cheers of
+the delighted outfit, who saw in it nothing but a good joke.
+
+When Cowan returned from his hopeless task, blowing and wheezing, he
+heard sundry remarks, sotto voce, which were not calculated to increase
+his opinion of his physical condition.
+
+“Seems to me,” remarked the irrepressible Hopalong, “that one of those
+cayuses has got th' heaves.”
+
+“It shore sounds like it,” acquiesced Johnny, red in the face from
+holding in his laughter, “an' say, somebody interferes.”
+
+“All knock-kneed animals do, yu heathen,” supplied Red.
+
+“Hey, yu, let up on that and have a drink on th' house,” invited
+Cowan. “If I gits that durn war whoop I'll make yu think there's been
+a cyclone. I'll see how long that bum hangs around this here burg, I
+will.”
+
+Red's eyes narrowed and his temper got the upper hand. “He ain't no bum
+when yu gives him rotgut at a quarter of a dollar a glass, is he? Any
+time that 'bum' gits razzled out for nothin' more'n this, why, I goes
+too; an' I ain't sayin' nothin' about goin' peaceable--like, neither.”
+
+“I knowed somethin' like this 'ud happen,” dolefully sang out Billy
+Williams, strong on the side of his pessimism.
+
+“For th' Lord's sake, have you broke out?” asked Red, disgustedly. “I'm
+goin' to hit the trail--but just keep this afore yore mind: if By-and-by
+gits in any accidents or ain't in sight when I comes to town again, this
+here climate'll be a heep sight hotter'n it is now. No hard feelings,
+sabe? It's just a casual bit of advice. Come on, fellows, let's
+amble--I'm hungry.”
+
+As they raced across the plain toward the ranch a pair of beady eyes,
+snapping with a drunken rage, watched them from an arroyo; and when
+Cowan entered the saloon the next morning he could not find By-and-by's
+rifle, which he had placed behind the bar. He also missed a handful of
+cartridges from the box near the cash drawer; and had he looked closely
+at his bottled whisky he would have noticed a loss there. A horse was
+missing from a Mexican's corral and there were rumors that several
+Indians had been seen far out on the plain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. The Law of the Range
+
+
+“Phew! I'm shore hungry,” said Hopalong, as he and Red dismounted at the
+ranch the next morning for breakfast. “Wonder what's good for it?”
+
+“They's three things that's good for famine,” said Red, leading the way
+to the bunk house. “Yu can pull in yore belt, yu can drink, an yu can
+eat. Yore getting as bad as Johnny--but he's young yet.”
+
+The others met their entrance with a volley of good-humored banter, some
+of which was so personal and evoked such responses that it sounded like
+the preliminary skirmish to a fight. But under all was that soft accent,
+that drawl of humorous appreciation and eyes twinkling in suppressed
+merriment. Here they were thoroughly at home and the spirit of
+comradeship manifested itself in many subtle ways; the wit became more
+daring and sharp, Billy lost some of his pessimism, and the alertness
+disappeared from their manner.
+
+Skinny left off romping with Red and yawned. “I wish that cook'ud wake
+up an' git breakfast. He's the cussedest hombre I ever saw--he kin go to
+sleep standin' up an' not know it. Johnny's th' boy that worries him--th'
+kid comes in an' whoops things up till he's gorged himself.”
+
+“Johnny's got th' most appallin' feel for grub of anybody I knows,”
+ added Red. “I wonder what's keepin' him--he's usually hangin' around here
+bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got th'
+fire goin'.”
+
+“Mebby he rustled some grub out with him--I saw him tip-toein' out of th'
+gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs,” remarked Hopalong,
+glancing at Billy.
+
+Billy groaned and made for the gallery. Emerging half a minute later he
+blurted out his tale of woe: “Every time I blows myself an' don't drink
+it all in town some slab-sided maverick freezes to it. It's gone,” he
+added, dismally.
+
+“Too bad, Billy--but what is it?” asked Skinny.
+
+“What is it? Wha'd yu think it was, you emaciated match? Jewelry?
+Cayuses? It's whisky--two simoleons' worth. Some-thin's allus wrong. This
+here whole yearth's wrong, just like that cross-eyed sky pilot said over
+to--”
+
+“Will yu let up?” Yelled Red, throwing a sombrero at the grumbling
+unfortunate. “Yu ask Buck where yore tanglefoot is.
+
+“I'd shore look nice askin' th' boss if he'd rustled my whisky, wouldn't
+I? An' would yu mind throwin' somebody else's hat? I paid twenty wheels
+for that eight years ago, and I don't want it mussed none.”
+
+“Gee, yore easy! Why, Ah Sing, over at Albuquerque, gives them away
+every time yu gits yore shirt washed,” gravely interposed Hopalong as he
+went out to cuss the cook.
+
+“Well, what'd yu think of that?” Exclaimed Billy in an injured tone.
+
+“Oh, yu needn't be hikin' for Albuquerque--WasheeWashee'ud charge yu
+double for washin' yore shirt. Yu ought to fall in di' river some
+day--then he might talk business,” called Hopalong over his shoulder
+as he heaved an old boot into the gallery. “Hey, yu hibernatin' son of
+morphine, if yu don't git them flapjacks in here pretty sudden-like
+I'll scatter yu all over di' landscape, sabe? Yu just wait till Johnny
+comes!”
+
+“Wonder where th' kid is?” asked Lanky, rolling a cigarette. “Off
+somewhere lookin' at di' sun through di' bottom of my bottle,” grumbled
+Billy.
+
+Hopalong started to go out, but halted on the sill and looked steadily
+off toward the northwest. “That's funny. Hey, fellows, here comes Buck
+an' Johnny ridin' double--on a walk, too!” he exclaimed. “Wonder what
+th'--thunder! Red, Buck's carryun' him! Somethin's busted!” he yelled, as
+he dashed for his pony and made for the newcomers.
+
+“I told yu he was hittin' my bottle,” pertly remarked Billy, as he
+followed the rest outside.
+
+“Did yu ever see Johnny drunk? Did yu ever see him drink more'n two
+glasses? Shut yore wailin' face--they's somethin' worse'n that in this
+here,” said Red, his temper rising. “Hopalong an' me took yore cheap
+liquor--it's under Pete's bunk,” he added.
+
+The trio approached on a walk and Johnny, delirious and covered with
+blood, was carried into the bunk house. Buck waited until all had
+assembled again and then, his face dark with anger, spoke sharply and
+without the usual drawl: “Skragged from behind, blast them! Get some
+grub an' water an' be quick. We'll see who the gent with th' grudge is.”
+
+At this point the expostulations of the indignant cook, who, not
+understanding the cause, regarded the invasion of china shop bulls as
+sacrilegious, came to his ears. Striding quickly to the door, he grabbed
+the pan the Mexican was about to throw and, turning the now frightened
+man around, thundered, “Keep quiet an' get 'em some grub.”
+
+When rifles and ammunition had been secured they mounted and followed
+him at a hard gallop along the back trail. No words were spoken, for
+none were necessary. All knew that they would not return until they
+had found the man for whom they were looking, even if the chase led
+to Canada. They did not ask Buck for any of the particulars, for the
+foreman was not in the humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong, whose
+curiosity was always on edge, recognized only two facts and cared for
+nothing else: Johnny had been ambushed and they were going to get the
+one who was responsible.
+
+They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail
+would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who or what
+he was--there was only one course to take with an assassin. So they said
+nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the seven ponies
+breast to breast in a close arc.
+
+Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap. As they
+approached it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body had
+lain there huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked alkali.
+The trail they followed was now single, Buck having ridden along the
+bank of the arroyo when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had orders. This
+trail was very irregular, as if the horse had wandered at will. Suddenly
+they came upon five tracks, all pointing one way, and four of these
+turned abruptly and disappeared in the northwest. Half a mile beyond the
+point of separation was a chaparral, which was an important factor to
+them.
+
+Each man knew just what had taken place as if he had been an eyewitness,
+for the trail was plain. The assassins had waited in the chaparral for
+Johnny to pass, probably having seen him riding that way. When he had
+passed and his back had been turned to them they had fired and wounded
+him severely at the first volley, for Johnny was of the stuff that
+fights back and his revolvers had showed full chambers and clean barrels
+when Red had examined them in the bunk house. Then they had given chase
+for a short distance and, from some inexplicable motive, probably fear,
+they had turned and ridden off without knowing how bad he was hit. It
+was this trail that led to the northwest, and it was this trail that
+they followed without pausing.
+
+When they had covered fifty miles they sighted the Cross Bar O ranch
+where they hoped to secure fresh mounts. As they rode up to the ranch
+house the owner, Bud Wallace, came around the corner and saw them.
+
+ “Hullo, boys! What deviltry are yu up to now?” he asked.  Buck
+leaped from his mount, followed by the others, and shoved his sombrero
+back on his head as he started to remove the saddle.
+
+“We're trailin' a bunch of murderers. They ambushed Johnny an' blame
+near killed him. I stopped here to get fresh cayuses.”
+
+“Yu did right!” replied Wallace heartily. Then raising his voice he
+shouted to some of his men who were near the corral to bring up the
+seven best horses they could rope. Then he told the cook to bring out
+plenty of food and drink.
+
+“I got four punchers what ain't doin' nothin' but eat,” he suggested.
+
+“Much obliged, Wallace, but there's only four of 'em, an' we'd rather
+get 'em ourselves--Johnny'ud feel better,” replied Buck, throwing his
+saddle on the horse that was led up to him.
+
+“How's yore cartridges--got plenty?” Persisted Wallace.
+
+“Two hundred apiece,” responded Buck, springing into his saddle and
+riding off. “So long,” he called.
+
+“So long, an' plug blazes out of them,” shouted Wallace as the dust
+swept over him.
+
+At five in the afternoon they forded the Black River at a point where it
+crossed the state line from New Mexico, and at dusk camped at the base
+of the Guadalupe Mountains. At daybreak they took up the chase, grim and
+merciless, and shortly afterward they passed the smoldering remains of
+a camp fire, showing that the pursued had been in a great hurry, for it
+should have been put out and masked. At noon they left the mountains to
+the rear and sighted the Barred Horeshoe, which they approached.
+
+The owner of the ranch saw them coming, and from their appearance
+surmised that something was wrong.
+
+“What is it?” He shouted. “Rustlers?”
+
+“Nope. Murderers. I wants to swap cayuses quick,” answered Buck.
+
+“There they are. Th' boys just brought 'em in. Anything else I can let
+yu have?”
+
+“Nope,” shouted Buck as they galloped off.
+
+“Somebody's goin' to get plugged full of holes,” murmured the ranch
+owner as he watched them kicking up the dust in huge clouds.
+
+After they had forded a tributary of the Rio Penasco near the Sacramento
+Mountains and had surmounted the opposite bank, Hopalong spurred his
+horse to the top of a hummock and swept the plain with Pete's field
+glasses, which he had borrowed for the occasion, and returned to the
+rest, who had kept on without slacking the pace. As he took up his
+former position he grunted, “War-whoops,” and unslung his rifle, an
+example followed by the others.
+
+The ponies were now running at top speed, and as they shot over a rise
+their riders saw their quarry a mile and a half in advance. One of the
+Indians looked back and discharged his rifle in defiance, and it now
+became a race worthy of the name--Death fled from Death. The fresher
+mounts of the cowboys steadily cut down the distance and, as the rifles
+of the pursuers began to speak, the hard-pressed Indians made for the
+smaller of two knolls, the plain leading to the larger one being too
+heavily strewn with bowlders to permit speed.
+
+As the fugitives settled down behind the rocks which fringed the edge of
+their elevation a shot from one of them disabled Billy's arm, but had no
+other effect than to increase the score to be settled. The pursuers
+rode behind a rise and dismounted, from where, leaving their mounts
+protected, they scattered out to surround the knoll.
+
+Hopalong, true to his curiosity, finally turned up on the highest point
+of the other knoll, a spur of the range in the west, for he always
+wanted to see all he could. Skinny, due to his fighting instinct,
+settled one hundred yards to the north and on the same spur. Buck lay
+hidden behind an enormous bowlder eight hundred yards to the northeast
+of Skinny, and the same distance southeast of Buck was Red Connors, who
+was crawling up the bed of an arroyo. Billy, nursing his arm, lay in
+front of the horses, and Pete, from his position between Billy and
+Hopalong, was crawling from rock to rock in an endeavor to get near
+enough to use his Colts, his favorite and most effective weapons.
+Intermittent puffs of smoke arising from a point between Skinny and Buck
+showed where Lanky Smith was improving each shining hour.
+
+There had been no directions given, each man choosing his own position,
+yet each was of strategic worth. Billy protected the horses, Hopalong
+and Skinny swept the knoll with a plunging fire, and Lanky and Buck lay
+in the course the besieged would most likely take if they tried a dash.
+Off to the east Red barred them from creeping down the arroyo, and from
+where Pete was he could creep up to within sixty yards if he chose the
+right rocks. The ranges varied from four hundred yards for Buck to sixty
+for Pete, and the others averaged close to three hundred, which allowed
+very good shooting on both sides.
+
+Hopalong and Skinny gradually moved nearer to each other for
+companionship, and as the former raised his head to see what the others
+were doing he received a graze on the ear.
+
+“Wow!” he yelled, rubbing the tingling member.
+
+Two puffs of smoke floated up from the knoll, and Skinny swore.
+
+“Where'd he get yu, Fat?” asked Hopalong.
+
+“G'wan, don't get funny, son,” replied Skinny.
+
+
+Jets of smoke arose from the north and east, where Buck and Red were
+stationed, and Pete was half way to the knoll. So far he hadn't been hit
+as he dodged in and out, and, emboldened by his luck, he made a run of
+five yards and his sombrero was shot from his head. Another dash and his
+empty holster was ripped from its support. As he crouched behind a rock
+he heard a yell from Hopalong, and saw that interested individual waving
+his sombrero to cheer him on. An angry pang! from the knoll caused that
+enthusiastic rooter to drop for safety.
+
+“Locoed son-of-a-gun,” complained Pete. “He'll shore git potted.” Then
+he glanced at Billy, who was the center of several successive spurts of
+dust.
+
+“How's business, Billy?” he called pleasantly.
+
+“Oh, they'll git me yet,” responded the pessimist. “Yu needn't git
+anxious. If that off buck wasn't so green he'd 'a' had me long ago.”
+
+“Ya-hoo! Pete! Oh, Pete!” called Hopalong, sticking his head out at one
+side and grinning as the wondering object of his hail craned his neck to
+see what the matter was.
+
+“Huh?” grunted Pete, and then remembering the distance he shouted,
+“What's th' matter?”
+
+“Got any cigarettes?” asked Hopalong.
+
+“Yu poor sheep!” said Pete, and turning back to work he drove a .45 into
+a yellow moccasin.
+
+Hopalong began to itch and he saw that he was near an ant hill. Then the
+cactus at his right boomed out mournfully and a hole appeared in it. He
+fired at the smoke and a yell informed him that he had made a hit.
+“Go 'way!” he complained as a green fly buzzed past his nose. Then he
+scratched each leg with the foot of the other and squirmed incessantly,
+kicking out with both feet at once. A warning metallic whir-r-r! on his
+left caused to yank them in again, and turning his head quickly he the
+pleasure of lopping off the head of a rattlesnake with his Colt's.
+
+“Glad yu wasn't a copperhead,” he exclaimed. “Somebody had ought 'a'
+shot that fool Noah. Blast the ants!” He drowned with a jet of tobacco
+juice a Gila monster that was staring at him and took a savage delight
+in its frantic efforts to bury itself.
+
+Soon he heard Skinny swear and he sung out: “What's the matter, Skinny?
+Git plugged again?”
+
+“Naw, bugs--ain't they mean?” Plaintively asked his friend. “They ain't
+none over here. What kind of bugs?”
+
+“Sufferin' Moses, I ain't no bugologist! All kinds!”
+
+But Hopalong got it at last. He had found tobacco and rolled a
+cigarette, and in reaching for a match exposed his shoulder to a shot
+that broke his collar bone. Skinny's rifle cracked in reply and the
+offending brave rolled out from behind a rock. From the fuss emanating
+from Hopalong's direction Skinny knew that his neighbor had been hit.
+
+“Don't yu care, Hoppy. I got th' cuss,” he said consolingly. “Where'd he
+git yu?” he asked.
+
+“In di' heart, yu pie-faced nuisance. Come over here an' corral this
+cussed bandage an' gimme some water,” snapped the injured man.
+
+Skinny wormed his way through the thorny chaparral and bound up the
+shoulder. “Anything else?” he asked.
+
+“Yes. Shoot that bunch of warts an' blow that tobacco-eyed Gila to
+Cheyenne. This here's worse than the time we cleaned out th' C 80
+outfit!” Then he kicked the dead toad and swore at the sun.
+
+“Close yore yap; yore worse than a kid! Anybody'd think yu never got
+plugged afore,” said Skinny indignantly.
+
+“I can cuss all I wants,” replied Hopalong, proving his assertion as he
+grabbed his gun and fired at the dead Indian. A bullet whined above
+his head and Skinny fired at the smoke. He peeped out and saw that his
+friends were getting nearer to the knoll.
+
+“They's closin' in now. We'll soon be gittin' home,” he reported.
+
+Hopalong looked out in time to see Buck make a dash for a bowlder that
+lay ten yards in front of him, which he reached in safety. Lanky also
+ran in and Pete added five more yards to his advance. Buck made
+another dash, but leaped into the air, and, coming down as if from an
+intentional high jump, staggered and stumbled for a few paces and then
+fell flat, rolling over and over toward the shelter of a split rock,
+where he lay quiet. A leering red face peered over the rocks on the
+knoll, but the whoop of exultation was cut short, for Red's rifle
+cracked and the warrior rolled down the steep bank, where another shot
+from the same gun settled him beyond question.
+
+Hopalong choked and, turning his face away, angrily dashed his knuckles
+into his eyes. “Blast 'em! Blast 'em! They've got Buck! They've got
+Buck, blast 'em! They've got Buck, Skinny! Good old Buck! They've got
+him! Jimmy's gone, Johnny's plugged, and now Buck's gone! Come on!”
+ he sobbed in a frenzy of vengeance. “Come on, Skinny! We'll tear their
+cussed hides into a deeper red than they are now! Oh, blast it, I can't
+see--where's my gun?” He groped for the rifle and fought Skinny when the
+latter, red-eyed but cool, endeavored to restrain him. “Lemme go, curse
+yu! Don't yu know they got Buck? Lemme go!”
+
+“Down! Red's got di' skunk. Yu can't do nothin'--they'd drop yu afore
+yu took five steps. Red's got him, I tell yu! Do yu want me to lick yu?
+We'll pay 'em back with interest if yu'll keep yore head!” exclaimed
+Skinny, throwing the crazed man heavily.
+
+Musical tones, rising and falling in weird octaves, whining pityingly,
+diabolically, sobbing in a fascinating monotone and slobbering in
+ragged chords, calling as they swept over the plain, always calling and
+exhorting, they mingled in barbaric discord with the defiant barks of
+the six-shooters and the inquiring cracks of the Winchesters. High up in
+the air several specks sailed and drifted, more coming up rapidly from
+all directions. Buzzards know well where food can be found.
+
+As Hopalong leaned back against a rock he was hit in the thigh by a
+ricochet that tore its way out, whirling like a circular saw, a span
+above where it entered. The wound was very nasty, being ripped twice
+the size made by an ordinary shot, and it bled profusely. Skinny crawled
+over and attended to it, making a tourniquet of his neckerchief and
+clumsily bandaging it with a strip torn from his shirt.
+
+“Yore shore lucky, yu are,” he grumbled as he made his way back to his
+post, where he vented his rancor by emptying the semi-depleted magazine
+of his Winchester at the knoll.
+
+Hopalong began to sing and shout and he talked of Jimmy and his
+childhood, interspersing the broken narrative with choice selections
+as sung in the music halls of Leavenworth and Abilene. He wound up by
+yelling and struggling, and Skinny had his hands full in holding him.
+
+“Hopalong! Cassidy! Come out of that! Keep quiet--yu'll shore git plugged
+if yu don't stop that plungin'. For gosh sake, did yu hear that?” A
+bullet viciously hissed between them and flattened out on a near-by
+rock; others cut their way through the chaparral to the sound of falling
+twigs, and Skinny threw himself on the struggling man and strapped
+Hopalong with his belt to the base of a honey mesquite that grew at his
+side.
+
+“Hold still, now, and let that bandage alone. Yu allus goes off di'
+range when yu gets plugged,” he complained. He cut down a cactus and
+poured the sap over the wounded man's face, causing him to gurgle and
+look around. His eyes had a sane look now and Skinny slid off his chest.
+
+“Git that--belt loose; I ain't--no cow,” brokenly blazed out the picketed
+Hopalong. Skinny did so, handed the irate man his Colts and returned to
+his own post, from where he fired twice, reporting the shots.
+
+“I'm tryin' to get him on th' glance' first one went high an' th' other
+fell flat,” he explained.
+
+Hopalong listened eagerly, for this was shooting that he could
+appreciate. “Lemme see,” he commanded. Skinny dragged him over to a
+crack and settled down for another try.
+
+“Where is he, Skinny?” Asked Hopalong.
+
+“Behind that second big one. No, over on this here side. See that smooth
+granite? If I can get her there on th' right spot he'll shore know it.”
+ He aimed carefully and fired.
+
+Through Pete's glasses Hopalong saw a leaden splotch appear on the rock
+and he notified the marksman that he was shooting high. “Put her on that
+bump closer down,” he suggested. Skinny did so and another yell reached
+their ears.
+
+“That's a dandy. Yore shore all right, yu old cuss,” complimented
+Hopalong, elated at the success of the experiment.
+
+Skinny fired again and a brown arm flopped out into sight. Another shot
+struck it and it jerked as though it were lifeless.
+
+“He's cashed. See how she jumped? Like a rope,” remarked Skinny with a
+grin. The arm lay quiet.
+
+Pete had gained his last cover and was all eyes and Colts. Lanky was
+also very close in and was intently watching one particular rock.
+Several shots echoed from the far side of the knoll and they knew that
+Red was all right. Billy was covering a cluster of rocks that protruded
+above the others and, as they looked, his rifle rang out and the last
+defender leaped down and disappeared in the chaparral. He wore yellow
+trousers and an old boiled shirt.
+
+“By an'-by, by all that's bad!” yelled Hopalong. “Th' measly coyote! An'
+me a-fillin' his ornery hide with liquor. Well, they'll have to find
+him all over again now,” he complained, astounded by the revelation. He
+fired into the chaparral to express his pugnacious disgust and scared
+out a huge tarantula, which alighted on Skinny's chaps, crawling rapidly
+toward the unconscious man's neck. Hopalong's face hardened and he
+slowly covered the insect and fired, driving it into the sand, torn
+and lifeless. The bullet touched the leathern garment and Skinny
+remonstrated, knowing that Hopalong was in no condition for fancy
+shooting.
+
+“Huh!” exclaimed Hopalong. “That was a tarantula what I plugged. He
+was headin' for yore neck,” he explained, watching the chaparral with
+apprehension.
+
+“Go 'way, was it? Bully for yu!” exclaimed Skinny, tarantulas being
+placed at par with rattlesnakes, and he considered that he had been
+saved from a horrible death. “Thought yu said they wasn't no bugs over
+here,” he added in an aggrieved tone.
+
+“They wasn't none. Yu brought 'em. I only had th' main show--Gilas,
+rattlers an' toads,” he replied, and then added, “Ain't it cussed hot up
+here?”
+
+“She is. Yu won't have no cinch ridin' home with that leg. Yu better
+take my cayuse--he's busted more'n yourn,” responded Skinny.
+
+“Yore cayuse is at th' Cross Bar O, yu wall-eyed pirute.”
+
+“Shore 'nuff. Funny how a feller forgets sometimes. Lemme alone now,
+they's goin' to git By-an'-by. Pete an' Lanky has just went in after
+him.”
+
+That was what had occurred. The two impatient punchers, had grown tired
+of waiting, and risked what might easily have been death in order to
+hasten matters. The others kept up a rapid fire, directed at the far end
+of the chaparral on the knoll, in order to mask the movements of their
+venturesome friends, intending also to drive By-and-by toward them so
+that he would be the one to get picked off as he advanced.
+
+Several shots rang out in quick succession on the knoll and the
+chaparral became agitated. Several more shots sounded from the depth
+of the thicket and a mounted Indian dashed out of the northern edge and
+headed in Buck's direction. His course would take him close to Buck,
+whom he had seen fall, and would let him escape at a point midway
+between Red and Skinny, as Lanky was on the knoll and the range was very
+far to allow effective shooting by these two.
+
+Red saw him leave the chaparral and in his haste to reload jammed the
+cartridge, and By-and-by swept on toward temporary safety, with Red
+dancing in a paroxysm of rage, swelling his vocabulary with words he had
+forgotten existed.
+
+By-and-by, rising to his full height in the saddle, turned and wiggled
+his fingers at the frenzied Red and made several other signs that the
+cowboy was in the humor to appreciate to the fullest extent. Then he
+turned and shook his rifle at the marksmen on the larger knoll, whose
+best shots kicked up the dust fully fifty yards too short. The pony was
+sweeping toward the reservation and friends only fifteen miles away,
+and By-and-by knew that once among the mountains he would be on equal
+footing at least with his enemies.
+
+As he passed the rock behind which Buck lay sprawled on his face he
+uttered a piercing whoop of triumph and leaned forward on his pony's
+neck. Twenty leaps farther and the spiteful crack of a rifle echoed from
+where the foreman was painfully supporting himself on his elbows. The
+pony swept on in a spurt of nerve-racking speed, but alone. By-and-by
+shrieked again and crashed heavily to the ground, where he rolled
+inertly and then lay still. Men like Buck are dangerous until their
+hearts have ceased to beat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. Trials of the Convalescent
+
+
+The days at the ranch passed in irritating idleness for those who
+had obstructed the flight of hostile lead, and worse than any of the
+patients was Hopalong, who fretted and fumed at his helplessness, which
+retarded his recovery. But at last the day came when he was fit for
+the saddle again, and he gave notice of his joy in whoops and forthwith
+announced that he was entitled to a holiday; and Buck had not the heart
+to refuse him.
+
+So he started forth in his quest of peace and pleasure, but instead had
+found only trouble and had been forced to leave his card at almost every
+place he had visited.
+
+There was that affair in Red Hot Gulch, Colorado, where, under pressure,
+he had invested sundry pieces of lead in the persons of several
+obstreperous citizens and then had paced the zealous and excitable
+sheriff to the state line.
+
+He next was noticed in Cheyenne, where his deformity was vividly
+dwelt upon, to the extent of six words, by one Tarantula Charley, the
+aforesaid Charley not being able to proceed to greater length on account
+of heart failure. As Charley had been a ubiquitous nuisance, those
+present availed themselves of the opportunity offered by Hopalong to
+indulge in a free drink.
+
+Laramie was his next stopping place, and shortly after his arrival he
+was requested to sing and dance by a local terror, who informed all
+present that he was the only seventeen-buttoned rattlesnake in the cow
+country. Hopalong, hurt and indignant at being treated like a common
+tenderfoot, promptly knocked the terror down. After he had irrigated
+several square feet of parched throats belonging to the audience he
+again took up his journey and spent a day at Denver, where he managed to
+avoid any further trouble.
+
+Santa Fe loomed up before him several days later and he entered it
+shortly before noon. At this time the old Spanish city was a bundle of
+high-strung nerves, and certain parts of it were calculated to furnish
+any and all kinds of excitement except revival meetings and church
+fairs. Hopalong straddled a lively nerve before he had been in the city
+an hour. Two local bad men, Slim Travennes and Tex Ewalt, desiring to
+establish the fact that they were roaring prairie fires, attempted to
+consume the placid and innocent stranger as he limped across the plaza
+in search of a game of draw poker at the Black Hills Emporium, with the
+result that they needed repairs, to the chagrin and disgust of their
+immediate acquaintances, who endeavored to drown their mortification
+and sorrow in rapid but somewhat wild gun play, and soon remembered that
+they had pressing engagements elsewhere.
+
+Hopalong reloaded his guns and proceeded to the Emporium, where he found
+a game all prepared for him in every sense of the word. On the third
+deal he objected to the way in which the dealer manipulated the cards,
+and when the smoke cleared away he was the only occupant of the room,
+except a dog belonging to the bartender that had intercepted a stray
+bullet.
+
+Hunting up the owner of the hound, he apologized for being the indirect
+cause of the animal's death, deposited a sum of Mexican dollars in
+that gentleman's palm and went on his way to Alameda, which he entered
+shortly after dark, and where an insult, simmering in its uncalled-for
+venom, met him as he limped across the floor of the local dispensary on
+his way to the bar. There was no time for verbal argument and precedent
+had established the manner of his reply, and his repartee was as quick
+as light and most effective. Having resented the epithets he gave his
+attention to the occupants of the room.
+
+Smoke drifted over the table in an agitated cloud and dribbled lazily
+upward from the muzzle of his six-shooter, while he looked searchingly
+at those around him. Strained and eager faces peered at his opponent,
+who was sliding slowly forward in his chair, and for the length of a
+minute no sound but the guarded breathing of the onlookers could be
+heard. This was broken by a nervous cough from the rear of the room, and
+the faces assumed their ordinary nonchalant expressions, their rugged
+lines heavily shadowed in the light of the flickering oil lamps, while
+the shuffling of cards and the clink of silver became audible. Hopalong
+Cassidy had objected to insulting remarks about his affliction.
+
+Hopalong was very sensitive about his crippled leg and was always
+prompt to resent any scorn or curiosity directed at it, especially
+when emanating from strangers. A young man of twenty-three years, when
+surrounded by nearly perfect specimens of physical manhood, is apt to
+be painfully self-conscious of any such defect, and it reacted on his
+nature at times, even though he was well-known for his happy-go-lucky
+disposition and playfulness. He consoled himself with the knowledge
+that what he lost in symmetry was more than balanced by the celerity
+and certainty of his gun hand, which was right or left, or both, as the
+occasion demanded.
+
+Several hours later, as his luck was vacillating, he felt a heavy hand
+on his shoulder, and was overjoyed at seeing Buck and Red, the latter
+grinning as only Red could grin, and he withdrew from the game to enjoy
+his good fortune.
+
+While Hopalong had been wandering over the country the two friends had
+been hunting for him and had traced him successfully, that being due
+to the trail he had blazed with his six-shooters. This they had
+accomplished without harm to themselves, as those of whom they inquired
+thought that they must want Hopalong “bad,” and cheerfully gave the
+information required.
+
+They had started out more for the purpose of accompanying him for
+pleasure, but that had changed to an urgent necessity in the following
+manner:
+
+While on the way from Denver to Santa Fe they had met Pete Willis of the
+Three Triangle, a ranch that adjoined their own, and they paused to pass
+the compliments of the season.
+
+“Purty far from th' grub wagon, Pie,” remarked Buck.
+
+“Oh, I'm only goin' to Denver,” responded Pie.
+
+“Purty hot,” suggested Red.
+
+“She shore is. Seen anybody yu knows?” Pie asked.
+
+“One or two--Billy of th' Star Crescent an' Panhandle Lukins,” answered
+Buck.
+
+“That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year. I'll hunt him up.
+I heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his brothers
+are lookin' for trouble,” offered Pie.
+
+“Yah! They ain't lookin' for no trouble--they just goes around
+blowin' off. Trouble? Why, they don't know what she is,” remarked Red
+contemptuously.
+
+“Well, they's been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' if that
+ain't trouble I don't know what is,” said Pie.
+
+“It shore is, an' hard to dodge,” acquiesced Buck.
+
+“Well, I has to amble. Is Panhandle in Denver? Yes? I calculates as
+how me an' him'll buck th' tiger for a whirl--he's shore lucky. Well, so
+long,” said Pie as he moved on.
+
+“So long,” responded the two.
+
+“Hey, wait a minute,” yelled Pie after he had ridden a hundred yards.
+“If yu sees Hopalong yu might tell him that th' Joneses are goin' to
+hunt him up when they gits to Albuquerque. They's shore sore on him.
+'Tain't none of my funeral, only they ain't always a-carin' how they
+goes after a feller. So long,” and soon he was a cloud of dust on the
+horizon.
+
+“Trouble!” snorted Red; “well, between dodgin' Harris an' huntin'
+Hopalong I reckons they'll shore find her.” Then to himself he murmured,
+“Funny how everythin' comes his way.”
+
+“That's gospel shore enough, but, as Pie said, they ain't a whole lot
+particular as how they deal th' cards. We better get a move on an' find
+that ornery little cuss,” replied Buck.
+
+“O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy. His gun's too lively
+for me to do any worryin',” asserted Red.
+
+“They'll get lynched some time, shore,” declared Buck.
+
+“Not if they find Hoppy,” grimly replied Red.
+
+They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their
+throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where
+they found Hopalong in the manner narrated.
+
+After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque,
+twelve miles to the south. At ten o'clock they dismounted before the
+Nugget and Rope, an unpainted wooden building supposed to be a
+clever combination of barroom, dance and gambling hall and hotel. The
+cleverness lay in the man who could find the hotel part.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. The Open Door
+
+
+The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being
+troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose
+of inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for
+obvious reasons. Probably not one man in ten was fortunate enough to
+have no one “looking for him,” and the lighted interior assured good
+hunting to any one in the dark street. He was continually opening the
+door, which every newcomer promptly and forcibly slammed shut. When he
+saw men walk across the room for the express purpose of slamming it he
+began to cherish the idea that there was a conspiracy on foot to anger
+him and thus force him to bring about his own death.
+
+After the door had been slammed three times in one evening by one man,
+the last slam being so forcible as to shake two bottles from the shelf
+and to crack the door itself, he became positive that his suspicions
+were correct, and so was very careful to smile and take it as a joke.
+Finally, wearied by his vain efforts to keep it open and fearing for the
+door, he hit upon a scheme, the brilliancy of which inflated his chest
+and gave him the appearance of a prize-winning bantam. When his patrons
+strolled in that night there was no door to slam, as it lay behind the
+bar.
+
+When Buck and Red entered, closely followed by Hopalong, they elbowed
+their way to the rear of the room, where they could see before being
+seen. As yet they had said nothing to Hopalong about Pie's warning and
+were debating in their minds whether they should do so or not, when
+Hopalong interrupted their thoughts by laughing. They looked up and he
+nodded toward the front, where they saw that anxious eyes from all parts
+of the room were focused on the open door. Then they noticed that it had
+been removed.
+
+The air of semi-hostile, semi-anxious inquiry of the patrons and the
+smile of satisfaction covering the face of Baum appealed to them as the
+most ludicrous sight their eyes had seen for months, and they leaned
+back and roared with laughter, thus calling forth sundry looks of
+disapproval from the innocent causes of their merriment. But they were
+too well known in Albuquerque to allow the disapproval to approach a
+serious end, and finally, as the humorous side of the situation dawned
+on the crowd, they joined in the laugh and all went merrily.
+
+
+At the psychologic moment some one shouted for a dance and the
+suggestion met with uproarious approval. At that moment Harris, the
+sheriff, came in and volunteered to supply the necessary music if the
+crowd would pay the fine against a straying fiddler he had corraled the
+day before. A hat was quickly passed and a sum was realized which would
+pay several fines to come and Harris departed for the music.
+
+A chair was placed on the bar for the musician and, to the tune of “Old
+Dan Tucker” and an assortment of similar airs, the board floor shook
+and trembled. It was a comical sight and Hopalong, the only wallflower
+besides Baum and the sheriff, laughed until he became weak. Cow punchers
+play as they work, hard and earnestly, and there was plenty of action.
+Sombreros flapped like huge wings and the baggy chaps looked like small,
+distorted balloons.
+
+The Virginia reel was a marvel of supple, exaggerated grace and the
+quadrille looked like a free-for-all for unbroken colts. The honor
+of prompter was conferred upon the sheriff, and he gravely called the
+changes as they were usually called in that section of the country:
+
+   “Oh, th' ladies trail in
+      An' th' gents trail out,
+   An' all stampede down th' middle.
+      If yu ain't got th' tin
+         Yu can dance an' shout,
+   But yu must keep up with th' fiddle.”
+
+
+As the dance waxed faster and the dancers grew hotter Hopalong,
+feeling lonesome because he wouldn't face ridicule, even if it was not
+expressed, went over and stood by the sheriff. He and Harris were good
+friends, for he had received the wound that crippled him in saving the
+sheriff from assassination. Harris killed the man who had fired that
+shot, and from this episode on the burning desert grew a friendship that
+was as strong as their own natures.
+
+Harris was very well liked by the majority and feared by the rest, for
+he was a square man and the best sheriff the county had ever known.
+Quiet and unassuming, small of stature and with a kind word for every
+one, he was a universal favorite among the better class of citizens.
+Quick as a flash and unerring in his shooting, he was a nightmare to the
+“bad men.” No profane word had ever been known to leave his lips, and
+he was the possessor of a widespread reputation for generosity. His
+face was naturally frank and open; but when his eyes narrowed with
+determination it became blank and cold. When he saw his young friend
+sidle over to him he smiled and nodded a hearty welcome.
+
+
+
+“They's shore cuttin' her loose,” remarked Hopalong.
+
+“First two pairs forward an' back!--they shore is,” responded the
+prompter.
+
+“Who's th' gent playin' lady to Buck?” Queried Hopalong.
+
+“Forward again an' ladies change!--Billy Jordan.”
+
+Hopalong watched the couple until they swung around and then he laughed
+silently. “Buck's got too many feet,” he seriously remarked to his
+friend.
+
+“Swing th' girl yu loves th' best!--he ain't lonesome, look at that--”
+
+Two shots rang out in quick succession and Harris stumbled, wheeled and
+pitched forward on his face as Hopalong's sombrero spun across his
+body. For a second there was an intense silence, heavy, strained
+and sickening. Then a roar broke forth and the crowd of frenzied
+merry-makers, headed by Hopalong, poured out into the street and spread
+out to search the town. As daylight dawned the searchers began to
+straggle back with the same report of failure. Buck and Red met on the
+street near the door and each looked questioningly at the other. Each
+shook his head and looked around, their fingers toying absentmindedly at
+their belts. Finally Buck cleared his throat and remarked casually,
+
+“Mebby he's following 'em.”
+
+Red nodded and they went over toward their horses. As they were
+hesitating which route to take, Billy Jordan came up.
+
+“Mebby yu'd like to see yore pardner--he's out by Buzzard's Spring. We'll
+take care of him,” jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the saloon
+where Harris's body lay. “And we'll all git th' others later. They
+cain't git away for long.”
+
+Buck and Red nodded and headed for Buzzard's Spring. As they neared the
+water hole they saw Hopalong sitting on a rock, his head resting in one
+hand while the other hung loosely from his knee. He did not notice
+them when they arrived, and with a ready tact they sat quietly on their
+horses and looked in every direction except toward him. The sun became
+a ball of molten fire and the sand flies annoyed them incessantly, but
+still they sat and waited, silent and apologetic.
+
+Hopalong finally arose, reached for his sombrero, and, finding it gone,
+swore long and earnestly at the scene its loss brought before him. He
+walked over to his horse and, leaping into the saddle, turned and faced
+his friends. “Yu old sons-of-guns,” he said. They looked sheepish and
+nodded negatively in answer to the look of inquiry in his eyes. “They
+ain't got 'em yet,” remarked Red slowly. Hopalong straightened up, his
+eyes narrowed and his face became hard and resolute as he led the way
+back toward the town.
+
+Buck rode up beside him and, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve,
+began to speak to Red. “We might look up th' Joneses, Red. They had been
+dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' they was huntin' Hopalong.
+Ever since we had to kill their brother in Buckskin they has been
+yappin' as how they was goin' to wipe us out. Hopalong an' Harris was
+standin' clost together an' they tried for both. They shot twice, one
+for Harris an' one for Hopalong, an' what more do yu want?”
+
+“It shore looks thataway, Buck,” replied Red, biting into a huge plug of
+tobacco which he produced from his chaps. “Anyhow, they wouldn't be no
+loss if they didn't. Member what Pie said?”
+
+Hopalong looked straight ahead, and when he spoke the words sounded as
+though he had bitten them off: “Yore right, Buck, but I gits first try
+at Thirsty. He's my meat an' I'll plug th' fellow what says he ain't.
+Damn him!”
+
+The others replied by applying their spurs, and in a short time they
+dismounted before the Nugget and Rope. Thirsty wouldn't have a chance to
+not care how he dealt the cards.
+
+Buck and Red moved quickly through the crowd, speaking fast and
+earnestly. When they returned to where they had left their friend they
+saw him half a block away and they followed slowly, one on either side
+of the street. There would be no bullets in his back if they knew what
+they were about, and they usually did.
+
+As Hopalong neared the corner, Thirsty and his two brothers turned it
+and saw him. Thirsty said something in a low voice, and the other two
+walked across the street and disappeared behind the store. When assured
+that they were secure, Thirsty walked up to a huge boulder on the side
+of the street farthest from the store and turned and faced his enemy,
+who approached rapidly until about five paces away, when he slowed up
+and finally stopped.
+
+For a number of seconds they sized each other up, Hopalong quiet
+and deliberate with a deadly hatred; Thirsty pale and furtive with a
+sensation hitherto unknown to him. It was Right meeting Wrong, and Wrong
+lost confidence. Often had Thirsty Jones looked death in the face and
+laughed, but there was something in Hopalong's eyes that made his flesh
+creep.
+
+He glanced quickly past his foe and took in the scene with one flash of
+his eyes. There was the crowd, eager, expectant, scowling. There were
+Buck and Red, each lounging against a boulder, Buck on his right, Red
+on his left. Before him stood the only man he had ever feared. Hopalong
+shifted his feet and Thirsty, coming to himself with a start, smiled.
+His nerve had been shaken, but he was master of himself once more.
+
+“Well!” he snarled, scowling.
+
+Hopalong made no response, but stared him in the eyes.
+
+Thirsty expected action, and the deadly quiet of his enemy oppressed
+him. He stared in turn, but the insistent searching of his opponent's
+eyes scorched him and he shifted his gaze to Hopalong's neck.
+
+“Well!” he repeated uneasily.
+
+“Did yu have a nice time at th' dance last night?” Asked Hopalong, still
+searching the face before him.
+
+“Was there a dance? I was over in Alameda,” replied Thirsty shortly.
+
+“Ya-as, there was a dance, an' yu can shoot purty durn far if yu was in
+Alameda,” responded Hopalong, his voice low and monotonous.
+
+Thirsty shifted his feet and glanced around. Buck and Red were still
+lounging against their bowlders and apparently were not paying any
+attention to the proceedings. His fickle nerve came back again, for
+he knew he would receive fair play. So he faced Hopalong once more and
+regarded him with a cynical smile.
+
+“Yu seems to worry a whole lot about me. Is it because yu has a
+tender feelin', or because it's none of yore blame business?” He asked
+aggressively.
+
+Hopalong paled with sudden anger, but controlled himself.
+
+“It's because yu murdered Harris,” he replied.
+
+“Shoo! An' how does yu figger it out?” Asked Thirsty, jauntily.
+
+“He was huntin' yu hard an' yu thought yu'd stop it, so yu came in to
+lay for him. When yu saw me an' him together yu saw di' chance to
+wipe out another score. That's how I figger it out,” replied Hopalong
+quietly.
+
+“Yore a reg'lar 'tective, ain't yu?” Thirsty asked ironically.
+
+“I've got common sense,” responded Hopalong.
+
+“Yu has? Yu better tell th' rest that, too,” replied Thirsty.
+
+“I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny
+remarks. Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel
+better, too.”
+
+“Shoo! An' suppose I did shoot him, I done a good job, didn't I?”
+
+“Yu did the worst job yu could do, yu highway robber,” softly said
+Hopalong, at the same time moving nearer. “Harris knew yu stopped th'
+stage last month, an' that's why yu've been dodgin' him.”
+
+“Yore a liar!” shouted Thirsty, reaching for his gun.
+
+The movement was fatal, for before he could draw, the Colt in Hopalong's
+holster leaped out and flashed from its owner's hip and Thirsty fell
+sideways, face down in the dust of the street.
+
+Hopalong started toward the fallen man, but as he did so a shot rang out
+from behind the store and he pitched forward, stumbled and rolled behind
+the bowlder. As he stumbled his left hand streaked to his hip, and when
+he fell he had a gun in each hand.
+
+As he disappeared from sight Goodeye and Bill Jones stepped from behind
+the store and started to run away. Not able to resist the temptation to
+look again, they stopped and turned and Bill laughed.
+
+“Easy as sin,” he said.
+
+“Run, yu fool--Red an' Buck'll be here. Want to git plugged?” shouted
+Goodeye angrily.
+
+They turned and started for a group of ponies twenty yards away, and as
+they leaped into the saddles two shots were fired from the street. As
+the reports died away Buck and Red turned the corner of the store, Colts
+in hand, and, checking their rush as they saw the saddles emptied, they
+turned toward the street and saw Hopalong, with blood oozing from an
+abrasion on his cheek, sitting up cross-legged, with each hand holding a
+gun, from which came thin wisps of smoke.
+
+“Th' son-of-a-gun!” cried Buck, proud and delighted.
+
+“Th' son-of-a-gun!” echoed Red, grinning.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. Hopalong Keeps His Word
+
+The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sun
+branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the north
+arose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond them
+lay Bass Ca on. From the latter emerged a solitary figure astride a
+broncho, and as he ascended the topmost rise he glanced below him at the
+placid stream and beyond it into Mexico. As he sat quietly in his saddle
+he smiled and laughed gently to himself. The trail he had just followed
+had been replete with trouble which had suited the state of his mind
+and he now felt humorous, having cleaned up a pressing debt with his
+six-shooter. Surely there ought to be a mild sort of excitement in the
+land he faced, something picturesque and out of the ordinary. This
+was to be the finishing touch to his trip, and he had left his two
+companions at Albuquerque in order that he might have to himself all
+that he could find.
+
+Not many miles to the south of him lay the town which had been the
+rendezvous of Tamale Jose, whose weakness had been a liking for other
+people's cattle. Well he remembered his first man hunt: the discovery
+of the theft, the trail and pursuit and--the ending. He was scarcely
+eighteen years of age when that event took place, and the wisdom he had
+absorbed then had stood him in good stead many times since. He had even
+now a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companions
+had failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped strategy had
+gained that end. The fight would never be forgotten, as it was his
+first, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of Red
+Connors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.
+
+He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, the
+first girl he had ever known--and the last. With a boy's impetuosity he
+had wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sang
+beneath her window and talked to her mother. He had boldly scaled the
+wall and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to his
+own ability to avoid being seen. No hidden meaning lay in his words;
+he spoke from his heart and with no concealment. And he remembered the
+treachery that had forced him, fighting, to the camp of his outfit; and
+when he had returned with his friends she had disappeared.
+
+To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those sisters who
+so easily forgot how to talk. The fragrance of the old days wrapped
+themselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine for his
+black-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to see her
+again. Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to and
+across the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuing
+Tamale Jose.
+
+The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming of
+guitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed from
+several houses. The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavy
+shadows and the little church farther up the dusty street showed dim
+lights in its stained windows. Off to the north became audible the
+rhythmic beat of a horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with a
+mocking bow.
+
+He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his mount back
+on its haunches as he stopped before a house. Glancing around and
+determining to find out a few facts as soon as possible, he rode up
+to the low door and pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt. After
+waiting for possibly half a minute and receiving no response he hammered
+a tune upon it with two Colts and had the satisfaction of seeing half a
+score of heads protrude from the windows in the nearby houses.
+
+“If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town up,”
+ he grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.
+
+“Who is it?” came from within. The voice was distinctly feminine and
+Hopalong winked to himself in congratulation.
+
+“Me,” he replied, twirling his fingers from his nose at the curious,
+forgetting that the darkness hid his actions from sight.
+
+“Yes, I know; but who is 'me'?” Came from the house.
+
+“Ain't I a fool!” he complained to himself, and raising his voice he
+replied coaxingly, “Open th' door a bit an' see. Are yu Carmencita?”
+
+“O-o-o! but you must tell me who it is first.”
+
+“Mr. Cassidy,” he replied, flushing at the 'mister,' “an' I wants to see
+Carmencita.”
+
+“Carmencita who?” teasingly came from behind the door. Hopalong
+scratched his head. “Gee, yu've roped me--I suppose she has got another
+handle. Oh, yu know--she used to live here about seven years back. She
+had great big black eyes, pretty cheeks an' a mouth that 'ud stampede
+anybody. Don't yu know now? She was about so high,” holding out his
+hands in the darkness.
+
+The door opened a trifle on a chain and Hopalong peered eagerly forward.
+
+“Ah, it is you, the brave Americano! You must go away quick or you will
+meet with harm. Manuel is awfully jealous and he will kill you! Go at
+once, please!”
+
+Hopalong pulled at the half-hearted down upon his lip and laughed
+softly. Then he slid the guns back in their holsters and felt for his
+sombrero.
+
+“Manuel wants to see me first, Star Eyes.”
+
+“No! no!” she replied, stamping upon the floor vehemently. “You must go
+now--at once!”
+
+“I'd shore look nice hittin' th' trail because Manuel Somebody wants
+to get hurt, wouldn't I? Don't yu remember how I used to shinny up this
+here wall an' skin th' cat gettin' through that hole up there what yu
+said was a window? Ah, come on an' open th' door--I'd shore like to see
+yu again!” pleaded the irrepressible.
+
+“No! no! Go away. Oh, won't you please go away!”
+
+Hopalong sighed audibly and turned his horse. As he did so he heard the
+door open and a sigh reached his ears. He wheeled like a flash and found
+the door closed again on its chain. A laugh of delight came from behind
+it.
+
+“Come out, please!--just for a minute,” he begged, wishing that he was
+brave enough to smash the door to splinters and grab her.
+
+“If I do, will you go away?” Asked the girl. “Oh, what will Manuel say
+if he comes? And all those people, they'll tell him!”
+
+“Hey, yu!” shouted Hopalong, brandishing his Colts at the protruding
+heads. “Git scarce! I'll shore plug th' last one in!” Then he laughed at
+the sudden vanishing.
+
+The door slowly opened and Carmencita, fat and drowsy, wobbled out
+to him. Hopalong's feelings were interfering with his breathing as he
+surveyed her. “Oh, yu shore are mistaken, Mrs. Carmencita. I wants to
+see yore daughter!”
+
+“Ah, you have forgotten the little Carmencita who used to look for you.
+Like all the men, you have forgotten,” she cooed reproachfully. Then her
+fear predominated again and she cried, “Oh, if my husband should see me
+now!”
+
+Hopalong mastered his astonishment and bowed. He had a desire to ride
+madly into the Rio Grande and collect his senses.
+
+“Yu are right--this is too dangerous--I'll amble on some,” he replied
+hastily. Under his breath he prayed that the outfit would never learn
+of this. He turned his horse and rode slowly up the street as the door
+closed.
+
+Rounding the corner he heard a soft footfall, and swerving in his saddle
+he turned and struck with all his might in the face of a man who leaped
+at him, at the same time grasping the uplifted wrist with his other
+hand. A curse and the tinkle of thin steel on the pavement accompanied
+the fall of his opponent. Bending down from his saddle he picked up the
+weapon and the next minute the enraged assassin was staring into the
+unwavering and, to him, growing muzzle of a Colt's .45.
+
+“Yu shore had a bum teacher. Don't yu know better'n to push it in? An'
+me a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct--it shows you
+don't appreciate cow-wrastlers. This is safer,” he remarked, throwing
+the stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang out angrily
+and quivered. “I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we mostly
+poisons coyotes up my way,” he added. Then a thought struck him. “Yu
+must be that dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?”
+
+A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.
+
+“Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever. I don't
+want yore Carmencita. I only called to say hulloo,” responded Hopalong,
+his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him from his
+vivid recollection of the woman who had opened the door.
+
+“Yah!” snarled Manuel. “You wants to poison my little bird. You with
+your fair hair and your cursed swagger!”
+
+The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from the
+Mexican's nose. “Yu wants to ride easy, hombre. I ain't no angel, but I
+don't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore head
+that she wants to be poisoned. Why, she near stuck a knife in me!” he
+lied.
+
+The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than that
+to wipe out the insult of the blow. The horse became restless, and when
+Hopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.
+
+“Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' 'dobe hut by th' arroyo.
+I'm tellin' yu this so yu won't do nothin' rash an' leave Carmencita a
+widow. Sabe?”
+
+The hate on the Mexican's face redoubled and he took a short step
+forward, but stopped when the muzzle of the Colt kissed his nose. He was
+the brother of Tamale Jose. As he backed away from the cool touch of
+the weapon he thought out swiftly his revenge. Some of his brother's
+old companions were at that moment drinking mescal in a saloon down the
+street, and they would be glad to see this Americano die. He glanced
+past his house at the saloon and Hopalong misconstrued his thoughts.
+
+“Shore, go home. I'll just circulate around some for exercise. No hard
+feelings, only yu better throw it next time,” he said as he backed away
+and rode off. Manuel went down the street and then ran into the saloon,
+where he caused an uproar.
+
+Hopalong rode to the end of the plaza and tried to sing, but it was a
+dismal failure. Then he felt thirsty and wondered why he hadn't thought
+of it before. Turning his horse and seeing the saloon he rode up to it
+and in, lying flat on the animal's neck to avoid being swept off by the
+door frame. His entrance scared white some half a dozen loungers, who
+immediately sprang up in a decidedly hostile manner. Hopalong's Colts
+peeped over the ears of his horse and he backed into a corner near the
+bar.
+
+“One, two, three--now, altogether, breathe! Yu acts like yu never saw a
+real puncher afore. All th' same,” he remarked, nodding at several
+of the crowd, “I've seen yu afore. Yu are th' gents with th' hot-foot
+get-a-way that vamoosed when we got Tamale.”
+
+Curses were flung at him and only the humorous mood he was in saved
+trouble. One, bolder than the rest, spoke up: “The senor will not see
+any 'hot-foot get-a-way,' as he calls it, now! The senor was not wise to
+go so far away from his friends!”'
+
+Hopalong looked at the speaker and a quizzical grin slowly spread over
+his face. “They'll shore feel glad when I tells them yu was askin' for
+'em. But didn't yu see too much of 'em once, or was yu poundin' leather
+in the other direction? Yu don't want to worry none about me--an' if yu
+don't get yore hands closter to yore neck they'll be heck to pay! There,
+that's more like home,” he remarked, nodding assurance.
+
+Reaching over he grasped a bottle and poured out a drink, his Colt
+slipping from his hand and dangling from his wrist by a thong. As the
+weapon started to fall several of the audience involuntarily moved as if
+to pick it up. Hopalong noticed this and paused with the glass half
+way to his lips. “Don't bother yoreselves none; I can git it again,” he
+said, tossing off the liquor.
+
+“Wow! Holy smoke!” he yelled. “This ain't drink! Sufferin' coyotes,
+nobody can accuse yu of sellin' liquor! Did yu make this all by
+yoreself?” He asked incredulously of the proprietor, who didn't know
+whether to run or to pray. Then he noticed that the crowd was spreading
+out and his Colts again became the center of interest.
+
+“Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!” he ordered as the person addressed
+was gliding toward the door. “I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot me from th'
+street. Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop somethin' hot.
+An' yu all better sit down,” he suggested, sweeping them with his guns.
+One man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in complying and Hopalong
+sent a bullet through the top of his high sombrero, which had a most
+gratifying effect.
+
+“You'll regret this!” hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur of
+assent arose. Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon and
+immediately a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.
+
+“Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo,” counted off the daring
+horseman; “move a bit an' off yu go,” he finished. Then his face broke
+out in another grin as he thought of more enjoyment.
+
+“That there gent on th' left,” he said, pointing out with a gun the man
+he meant. “Yu sing us a song. Sing a nice little song.”
+
+As the object of his remarks remained mute he let his thumb
+ostentatiously slide back with the hammer of the gun under it. “Sing!
+Quick!” The man sang.
+
+As Hopalong leaned forward to say something a stiletto flashed past his
+neck and crashed into the bottle beside him. The echo of the crash was
+merged into a report as Hopalong fired from his waist. Then he backed
+out into the Street and, wheeling, galloped across the plaza and again
+faced the saloon. A flash split the darkness and a bullet hummed over
+his head and thudded into an adobe wall at his back. Another shot and he
+replied, aiming at the flash.
+
+From down the Street came the sound of a window opening and he promptly
+caused it to close again. Several more windows opened and hastily
+closed, and he rode slowly toward the far end of the plaza. As he faced
+the saloon once more he heard a command to throw up his hands and saw
+the glint of a gun, held by a man who wore the insignia of sheriff.
+Hopalong complied, but as his hands went up two spurts of fire shot
+forth and the sheriff dropped his weapon, reeled and sat down. Hopalong
+rode over to him and swinging down, picked up the gun and looked the
+officer over.
+
+
+
+“Shoo, yu'll be all right soon--yore only plugged in th' arms,” he
+remarked as he glanced up the street. Shadowy forms were gliding from
+cover to cover and he immediately caused consternation among them by
+his accuracy. “Ain't it sad?” He complained to the wounded man. “I never
+starts out but what somebody makes me shoot 'em. Came down here to see
+a girl an' find she's married. Then when I moves on peaceable--like her
+husband makes me hit him. Then I wants a drink an' he goes an' fans a
+knife at me, an' me just teachin' him how! Then yu has to come along an'
+make more trouble”.
+
+“Now look at them fools over there,” he said, pointing at a dark shadow
+some fifty paces off. “They're pattin' their backs because I don't
+see 'em, an' if I hurts them they'll git mad. Guess I'll make 'em dust
+along,” he added, shooting into the spot. A howl went up and two men ran
+away at top speed.
+
+The sheriff nodded his sympathy and spoke. “I reckons you had better
+give up. You can't get away. Every house, every corner and shadow holds
+a man. You are a brave man, but, as you say, unfortunate. Better help me
+up and come with me--they'll tear you to pieces.”
+
+“Shore I'll help yu up--I ain't got no grudge against nobody. But my
+friends know where I am an' they'll come down here an' raise a ruction
+if I don't show up. So, if it's all th' same to you, I'll be ambling
+right along,” he said as he helped the sheriff to his feet.
+
+“Have you any objections to telling me your name?” Asked the sheriff as
+he looked himself over.
+
+“None whatever,” answered Hopalong heartily. “I'm Hopalong Cassidy of
+th' Bar 20, Texas.”
+
+“You don't surprise me--I've heard of you,” replied the sheriff wearily.
+“You are the man who killed Tamale Jose, whom I hunted for unceasingly.
+I found him when you had left and I got the reward. Come again some
+time and I'll divide with you; two hundred and fifty dollars,” he added
+craftily.
+
+“I shore will, but I don't want no money,” replied Hopalong as he turned
+away. “Adios, senor,” he called back.
+
+“Adios,” replied the sheriff as he kicked a nearby door for assistance.
+
+The cow-pony tied itself up in knots as it pounded down the street
+toward the trail, and although he was fired on he swung into the dusty
+trail with a song on his lips. Several hours later he stood dripping wet
+on the American side of the Rio Grande and shouted advice to a score of
+Mexican cavalrymen on the opposite bank. Then he slowly picked his way
+toward El Paso for a game at Faro Dan's.
+
+The sheriff sat in his easy chair one night some three weeks later,
+gravely engaged in rolling a cigarette. His arms were practically well,
+the wounds being in the fleshy parts. He was a philosopher and was
+disposed to take things easy, which accounted for his being in his
+official position for fifteen years. A gentleman at the core, he was
+well educated and had visited a goodly portion of the world. A book of
+Horace lay open on his knees and on the table at his side lay a shining
+new revolver, Hopalong having carried off his former weapon. He read
+aloud several lines and in reaching for a light for his cigarette
+noticed the new six-shooter. His mind leaped from Horace to Hopalong,
+and he smiled grimly at the latter's promise to call.
+
+Glancing up, his eyes fell on a poster which conveyed the information in
+Spanish and in English that there was offered
+
+      +--------------------------------------+
+           | |  FIVE HUNDRED PESOS | |
+
+                    REWARD
+
+         For Hopalong Cassidy, of the Ranch
+
+      | | Known as the Bar-20, Texas, U. S. A. | |
+
+      +--------------------------------------+
+
+and which gave a good description of that gentleman.
+
+Sighing for the five hundred, he again took up his book and was lost in
+its pages when he heard a knock, rather low and timid. Wearily laying
+aside his reading, he strode to the door, expecting to hear a lengthy
+complaint from one of his townsmen. As he threw the door wide open the
+light streamed out and lighted up a revolver and behind it the beaming
+face of a cowboy, who grinned.
+
+“Well, I'll be damned!” ejaculated the sheriff, starting back in
+amazement.
+
+“Don't say that, sheriff; you've got lots of time to reform,” replied a
+humorous voice. “How's th' wings?”
+
+“Almost well: you were considerate,” responded the sheriff. “Let's go
+in--somebody might see me out here an' get into trouble,” suggested the
+visitor, placing his foot on the sill.
+
+“Certainly--pardon my discourtesy,” said the sheriff. “You see, I
+wasn't expecting you to-night,” he explained, thinking of the
+elaborate preparations that he would have gone to if he had thought the
+irrepressible would call.
+
+“Well, I was down this way, an' seeing as how I had promised to drop
+in I just natchurally dropped,” replied Hopalong as he took the chair
+proffered by his host.
+
+After talking awhile on everything and nothing the sheriff coughed and
+looked uneasily at his guest.
+
+“Mr. Cassidy, I am sorry you called, for I like men of your energy and
+courage and I very much dislike to arrest you,” remarked the sheriff.
+“Of course you understand that you are under arrest,” he added with
+anxiety.
+
+“Who, me?” Asked Hopalong with a rising inflection.
+
+“Most assuredly,” breathed the sheriff.
+
+“Why, this is the first time I ever heard anything about it,” replied
+the astonished cow-puncher. “I'm an American--don't that make any
+difference?”
+
+“Not in this case, I'm afraid. You see, it's for manslaughter.”
+
+“Well, don't that beat th' devil, now?” Said Hopalong. He felt sorry
+that a citizen of the glorious United States should be prey for
+troublesome sheriffs, but he was sure that his duty to Texas called upon
+him never to submit to arrest at the hands of a Mexican. Remembering
+the Alamo, and still behind his Colt, he reached over and took up the
+shining weapon from the table and snapped it open on his knee. After
+placing the cartridges in his pocket he tossed the gun over on the bed
+and, reaching inside his shirt, drew out another and threw it after the
+first.
+
+“That's yore gun; I forgot to leave it,” he said, apologetically.
+“Anyhow yu needs two,” he added.
+
+Then he glanced around the room, noticed the poster and walked over
+and read it. A full swift sweep of his gloved hand tore it from its
+fastenings and crammed it under his belt. The glimmer of anger in his
+eyes gave way as he realized that his head was worth a definite price,
+and he smiled at what the boys would say when he showed it to them.
+Planting his feet far apart and placing his arms akimbo he faced his
+host in grim defiance.
+
+“Got any more of these?” He inquired, placing his hand on the poster
+under his belt.
+
+“Several,” replied the sheriff.
+
+“Trot 'em out,” ordered Hopalong shortly.
+
+The sheriff sighed, stretched and went over to a shelf, from which he
+took a bundle of the articles in question. Turning slowly he looked at
+the puncher and handed them to him.
+
+“I reckons they's all over this here town,” remarked Hopalong.
+
+“They are, and you may never see Texas again.”
+
+“So? Well, yu tell yore most particular friends that the job is worth
+five thousand, and that it will take so many to do it that when th'
+mazuma is divided up it won't buy a meal. There's only one man in this
+country tonight that can earn that money, an' that's me,” said the
+puncher. “An' I don't need it,” he added, smiling.
+
+“But you are my prisoner--you are under arrest,” enlightened the sheriff,
+rolling another cigarette. The sheriff spoke as if asking a question.
+Never before had five hundred dollars been so close at hand and yet so
+unobtainable. It was like having a check-book but no bank account.
+
+“I'm shore sorry to treat yu mean,” remarked Hopalong, “but I was paid a
+month in advance an' I'll have to go back an' earn it.”
+
+“You can--if you say that you will return,” replied the sheriff
+tentatively. The sheriff meant what he said and for the moment had
+forgotten that he was powerless and was not the one to make terms.
+
+Hopalong was amazed and for a time his ideas of Mexicans staggered under
+the blow. Then he smiled sympathetically as he realized that he faced a
+white man.
+
+“Never like to promise nothin',” he replied. “I might get plugged, or
+something might happen that wouldn't let me.” Then his face lighted up
+as a thought came to him. “Say, I'll cut di' cards with yu to see if I
+comes back or not.”
+
+The sheriff leaned back and gazed at the cool youngster before him.
+A smile of satisfaction, partly at the self-reliance of his guest and
+partly at the novelty of his situation, spread over his face. He reached
+for a pack of Mexican cards and laughed. “Man! You're a cool one--I'll do
+it. What do you call?”
+
+“Red,” answered Hopalong.
+
+The sheriff slowly raised his hand and revealed the ace of hearts.
+Hopalong leaned back and laughed, at the same time taking from his
+pocket the six extracted cartridges. Arising and going over to the
+bed he slipped them in the chambers of the new gun and then placed the
+loaded weapon at the sheriff's elbow.
+
+“Well, I reckon I'll amble, sheriff,” he said as he opened the door. “If
+yu ever sifts up my way drop in an' see me--th' boys'll give yu a good
+time.”
+
+“Thanks; I will be glad to,” replied the sheriff. “You'll take your
+pitcher to the well once too often some day, my friend. This courtesy,”
+ glancing at the restored revolver, “might have cost you dearly.”
+
+“Shoo! I did that once an' th' feller tried to use it,” replied
+the cowboy as he backed through the door. “Some people are awfully
+careless,” he added. “So long--”
+
+“So long,” replied the sheriff, wondering what sort of a man he had been
+entertaining.
+
+The door closed softly and soon after a joyous whoop floated in from
+the Street. The sheriff toyed with the new gun and listened to the low
+caress of a distant guitar.
+
+“Well, don't that beat all?” He ejaculated.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. The Advent of McAllister
+
+
+The blazing sun shone pitilessly on an arid plain which was spotted
+with dust-gray clumps of mesquite and thorny chaparral. Basking in the
+burning sand and alkali lay several Gila monsters, which raised their
+heads and hissed with wide-open jaws as several faint, whip-like reports
+echoed flatly over the desolate plain, showing that even they had
+learned that danger was associated with such sounds.
+
+Off to the north there became visible a cloud of dust and at intervals
+something swayed in it, something that rose and fell and then became
+hidden again. Out of that cloud came sharp, splitting sounds, which were
+faintly responded to by another and larger cloud in its rear. As it came
+nearer and finally swept past, the Gilas, to their terror, saw a madly
+pounding horse, and it carried a man. The latter turned in his saddle
+and raised a gun to his shoulder and the thunder that issued from it
+caused the creeping audience to throw up their tails in sudden panic and
+bury themselves out of sight in the sand.
+
+The horse was only a broncho, its sides covered with hideous yellow
+spots, and on its near flank was a peculiar scar, the brand. Foam
+flecked from its crimsoned jaws and found a resting place on its sides
+and on the hairy chaps of its rider. Sweat rolled and streamed from its
+heaving flanks and was greedily sucked up by the drought-cursed alkali.
+Close to the rider's knee a bloody furrow ran forward and one of the
+broncho's ears was torn and limp. The broncho was doing its best--it
+could run at that pace until it dropped dead. Every ounce of strength it
+possessed was put forth to bring those hind hoofs well in front of
+the forward ones and to send them pushing the sand behind in streaming
+clouds. The horse had done this same thing many times--when would its
+master learn sense?
+
+The man was typical in appearance with many of that broad land. Lithe,
+sinewy and bronzed by hard riding and hot suns, he sat in his Cheyenne
+saddle like a centaur, all his weight on the heavy, leather-guarded
+stirrups, his body rising in one magnificent straight line. A bleached
+moustache hid the thin lips, and a gray sombrero threw a heavy shadow
+across his eyes. Around his neck and over his open, blue flannel
+shirt lay loosely a knotted silk kerchief, and on his thighs a pair of
+open-flapped holsters swung uneasily with their ivory handled burdens.
+He turned abruptly, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired, then
+he laughed recklessly and patted his mount, which responded to
+the confident caress by lying flatter to the earth in a spurt of
+heart-breaking speed.
+
+“I'll show 'em who they're trailin'. This is th' second time I've
+started for Muddy Wells, an' I'm goin' to git there, too, for all th'
+Apaches out of Hades!”
+
+To the south another cloud of dust rapidly approached and the rider
+scanned it closely, for it was directly in his path. As he watched it
+he saw something wave and it was a sombrero! Shortly afterward a real
+cowboy yell reached his ears. He grinned and slid another cartridge in
+the greasy, smoking barrel of the Sharp's and fired again at the cloud
+in his rear. Some few minutes later a whooping, bunched crowd of madly
+riding cowboys thundered past him and he was recognized.
+
+“Hullo, Frenchy!” yelled the nearest one. “Comin' back?”
+
+“Come on, McAllister!” shouted another; “we'll give 'em blazes!” In
+response the straining broncho suddenly stiffened, bunched and slid on
+its haunches, wheeled and retraced its course. The rear cloud suddenly
+scattered into many smaller ones and all swept off to the east. The
+rescuing band overtook them and, several hours later, when seated around
+a table in Tom Lee's saloon, Muddy Wells, a count was taken of them,
+which was pleasing in its facts.
+
+“We was huntin' coyotes when we saw yu,” said a smiling puncher who was
+known as Salvation Carroll chiefly because he wasn't.
+
+“Yep! They've been stalkin' Tom's chickens,” supplied Waffles, the
+champion poker player of the outfit. Tom Lee's chickens could whip
+anything of their kind for miles around and were reverenced accordingly.
+
+“Sho! Is that so?” Asked Frenchy with mild incredulity, such a state of
+affairs being deplorable.
+
+“She shore is!” answered Tex Le Blanc, and then, as an afterthought, he
+added, “Where'd yu hit th' War-whoops?”
+
+“'Bout four hours back. This here's th' second time I've headed for this
+place--last time they chased me to Las Cruces.”
+
+“That so?” Asked Bigfoot Baker, a giant. “Ain't they allus interferin',
+now? Anyhow, they're better'n coyotes.”
+
+“They was purty well heeled,” suggested Tex, glancing at a bunch of
+repeating Winchesters of late model which lay stacked in a corner.
+“Charley here said he thought they was from th' way yore cayuse looked,
+didn't yu, Charley?” Charley nodded and filled his pipe.
+
+“'Pears like a feller can't amble around much nowadays without havin' to
+fight,” grumbled Lefty Allen, who usually went out of his way hunting up
+trouble.
+
+“We're goin' to th' Hills as soon as our cookie turns up,” volunteered
+Tenspot Davis, looking inquiringly at Frenchy. “Heard any more news?”
+
+“Nope. Same old story--lots of gold. Shucks, I've bit on so many of them
+rumors that they don't feaze me no more. One man who don't know nothin'
+about prospectin' goes an' stumbles over a fortune an' those who know it
+from A to Izzard goes 'round pullin' in their belts.”
+
+“We don't pull in no belts--we knows just where to look, don't we,
+Tenspot?” Remarked Tex, looking very wise.
+
+“Ya-as we do,” answered Tenspot, “if yu hasn't dreamed about it, we do.”
+
+“Yu wait; I wasn't dreamin', none whatever,” assured Tex.
+
+“I saw it!”
+
+“Ya-as, I saw it too onct,” replied Frenchy with sarcasm. “Went and
+lugged fifty pound of it all th' way to th' assay office--took me two
+days! an' that there four-eyed cuss looks at it and snickers. Then
+he takes me by di' arm an' leads me to th' window. 'See that pile, my
+friend? That's all like yourn,' sez he. 'It's worth about one simoleon a
+ton at th' coast. They use it for ballast.'”
+
+“Aw! But this what I saw was gold!” exploded Tex.
+
+“So was mine, for a while!” laughed Frenchy, nodding to the bartender
+for another round.
+
+“Well, we're tired of punchin' cows! Ride sixteen hours a day, year in
+an' year out, an' what do we get? Fifty a month an' no chance to spend
+it, an' grub that'd make a coyote sniffle! I'm for a vacation, an' if I
+goes broke, why, I'll punch again!” asserted Waffles, the foreman, thus
+revealing the real purpose of the trip.
+
+“What'd yore boss say?” Asked Frenchy.
+
+“Whoop! What didn't he say! Honest, I never thought he had it in him.
+It was fine. He cussed an hour frontways an' then trailed back on a dead
+gallop, with us a-laughin' fit to bust. Then he rustles for his gun an'
+we rustles for town,” answered Waffles, laughing at his remembrance of
+it.
+
+As Frenchy was about to reply his sombrero was snatched from his
+head and disappeared. If he “got mad” he was to be regarded as not
+sufficiently well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot water;
+if he took it good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit; but in
+either case he didn't get his hat without begging or fighting for
+it. This was a recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was not
+intended as an insult.
+
+Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose. Punching Lefty playfully in
+the ribs he passed his hands behind that person's back. Not finding the
+lost head-gear he laughed and, tripping Lefty up, fell with him and,
+reaching up on the table for his glass, poured the contents down Lefty's
+back and arose.
+
+“Yu son-of-a-gun!” indignantly wailed that unfortunate. “Gee, it feels
+funny,” he added, grinning as he pulled the wet shirt away from his
+spine.
+
+“Well, I've got to be amblin',” said Frenchy, totally ignoring the
+loss of his hat. “Goin' down to Buckskin,” he offered, and then asked,
+“When's yore cook comin'?”
+
+“Day after to-morrow, if he don't get loaded,” replied Tex.
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“A one-eyed Mexican--Quiensabe Antonio.”
+
+“I used to know him. He's a heck of a cook. Dished up th' grub one
+season when I was punchin' for th' Tin-Cup up in Montana,” replied
+Frenchy.
+
+“Oh, he kin cook now, all right.” replied Waffles.
+
+“That's about all he can cook. Useter wash his knives in th' coffee pot
+an' blow on di' tins. I chased him a mile one night for leavin' sand in
+th' skillet. Yu can have him--I don't envy yu none whatever.
+
+“He don't sand no skillet when little Tenspot's around,” assured that
+person, slapping his holster. “Does he, Lefty?”
+
+“If he does, yu oughter be lynched,” consoled Lefty.
+
+“Well, so long,” remarked Frenchy, riding off to a small store, where he
+bought a cheap sombrero.
+
+Frenchy was a jack-of-all-trades, having been cow-puncher, prospector,
+proprietor of a “hotel” in Albuquerque, foreman of a ranch, sheriff,
+and at one time had played angel to a venturesome but poor show troupe.
+Beside his versatility he was well known as the man who took the stage
+through the Sioux country when no one else volunteered. He could shoot
+with the best, but his one pride was the brand of poker he handed out.
+Furthermore, he had never been known to take an unjust advantage over
+any man and, on the contrary, had frequently voluntarily handicapped
+himself to make the event more interesting. But he must not be classed
+as being hampered with self-restraint.
+
+His reasons for making this trip were two-fold: he wished to see Buck
+Peters, the foreman of the Bar-20 outfit, as he and Buck had punched
+cows together twenty years before and were firm friends; the other was
+that he wished to get square with Hopalong Cassidy, who had decisively
+cleaned him out the year before at poker. Hopalong played either
+in great good luck or the contrary, while Frenchy played an even,
+consistent game and usually left off richer than when he began, and this
+decisive defeat bothered him more than he would admit, even to himself.
+
+The round-up season was at hand and the Bar-20 was short of ropers, the
+rumors of fresh gold discoveries in the Black Hills having drawn all the
+more restless men north. The outfit also had a slight touch of the gold
+fever, and only their peculiar loyalty to the ranch and the assurance
+of the foreman that when the work was over he would accompany them, kept
+them from joining the rush of those who desired sudden and much wealth
+as the necessary preliminary of painting some cow town in all the “bang
+up” style such an event would call for. Therefore they had been given
+orders to secure the required assistance, and they intended to do so,
+and were prepared to kidnap, if necessary, for the glamour of wealth and
+the hilarity of the vacation made the hours falter in their speed.
+
+As Frenchy leaned back in his chair in Cowan's saloon, Buckskin, early
+the next morning, planning to get revenge on Hopalong and then to
+recover his sombrero, he heard a medley of yells and whoops and soon the
+door flew open before the strenuous and concentrated entry of a mass
+of twisting and kicking arms and legs, which magically found their
+respective owners and reverted to the established order of things.
+
+When the alkali dust had thinned he saw seven cow-punchers sitting on
+the prostrate form of another, who was earnestly engaged in trying to
+push Johnny Nelson's head out in the street with one foot as he voiced
+his lucid opinion of things in general and the seven in particular.
+After Red Connors had been stabbed in the back several times by the
+victim's energetic elbow he ran out of the room and presently returned
+with a pleased expression and a sombrero full of water, his finger
+plugging an old bullet hole in the crown.
+
+“Is he any better, Buck?” Anxiously inquired the man with the reservoir.
+
+“About a dollar's worth,” replied the foreman. “Jest put a little right
+here,” he drawled as he pulled back the collar of the unfortunate's
+shirt.
+
+“Ow! wow! WOW!” wailed the recipient, heaving and straining. The
+unengaged leg was suddenly wrested loose, and as it shot up and out
+Billy Williams, with his pessimism aroused to a blue-ribbon pitch, sat
+down forcibly in an adjacent part of the room, from where he lectured
+between gasps on the follies of mankind and the attributes of army
+mules.
+
+Red tiptoed around the squirming bunch, looking for an opening, his
+pleased expression now having added a grin.
+
+“Seems to be gittin' violent-like,” he soliloquized, as he aimed a
+stream at Hopalong's ear, which showed for a second as Pete Wilson
+strove for a half-nelson, and he managed to include Johnny and Pete in
+his effort.
+
+Several minutes later, when the storm had subsided, the woeful crowd
+enthusiastically urged Hopalong to the bar, where he “bought.”
+
+“Of all th' ornery outfits I ever saw--” began the man at the table,
+grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
+
+“Why, hullo, Frenchy! Glad to see yu, yu old son-of-a-gun! What's th'
+news from th' Hills?” Shouted Hopalong.
+
+“Rather locoed, an' there's a locoed gang that's headin' that way. Goin'
+up?” he asked.
+
+“Shore, after round-up. Seen any punchers trailin' around loose?”
+
+“Ya-as,” drawled Frenchy, delving into the possibilities suddenly opened
+to him and determining to utilize to the fullest extent the opportunity
+that had come to him unsought. “There's nine over to Muddy Wells that yu
+might git if yu wants them bad enough. They've got a sombrero of mine,”
+ he added deprecatingly.
+
+“Nine! Twisted Jerusalem, Buck! Nine whole cow-punchers a-pinin' for
+work,” he shouted, but then added thoughtfully, “Mebby they's engaged,”
+ it being one of the courtesies of the land not to take another man's
+help.
+
+“Nope. They've stampeded for th' Hills an' left their boss all alone,”
+ replied Frenchy, well knowing that such desertion would not, in the
+minds of the Bar-20 men, add any merits to the case of the distant
+outfit.
+
+“Th' sons-of-guns,” said Hopalong, “let's go an' get 'em,” he suggested,
+turning to Buck, who nodded a smiling assent.
+
+“Oh, what's the hurry?” Asked Frenchy, seeing his projected game
+slipping away into the uncertain future and happy in the thought that he
+would be avenged on the O-Bar-O outfit.
+
+“They'll be there till to-morrow noon--they's waitin' for their cookie,
+who's goin' with them.”
+
+“A cook! A cook! Oh, joy, a cook!” exulted Johnny, not for one instant
+doubting Buck's ability to capture the whole outfit and seeing a whirl
+of excitement in the effort.
+
+“Anybody we knows?” Inquired Skinny Thompson.
+
+“Shore. Tenspot Davis, Waffles, Salvation Carroll, Bigfoot Baker,
+Charley Lane, Lefty Allen, Kid Morris, Curley Tate an' Tex Le Blanc,”
+ responded Frenchy.
+
+“Umm-m. Might as well rope a blizzard,” grumbled Billy. “Might as well
+try to git th' Seventh Cavalry. We'll have a pious time corralling that
+bunch. Them's th' fellows that hit that bunch of inquirin' Crow braves
+that time up in th' Bad Lands an' then said by-bye to th' Ninth.”
+
+“Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an' Hopalong
+can sing 'em to sleep,” interposed Johnny, afraid that the expedition
+would fall through.
+
+“How about Curley and Tex?” Pugnaciously asked Billy.
+
+“Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't think
+they's dangerous. Salvation an' Tenspot are only ones who can shoot,”
+ stoutly maintained Johnny.
+
+“Here yu, get mum,” ordered Buck to the pair. “When this outfit goes
+after anything it generally gets it. All in favor of kidnappin' that
+outfit signify di' same by kickin' Billy,” whereupon Bill swore.
+
+“Do yu want yore hat?” Asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.
+
+“I shore do,” answered that individual.
+
+“If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu. Fifty a month an'
+grub,” offered the foreman.
+
+“O.K.” replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.
+
+Buck looked at his watch. “Seven o'clock--we ought to get there by five
+if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe. Come on.”
+
+“How are we goin' to git them?” Asked Billy.
+
+“Yu leave that to me, son. Hopalong an' Frenchy'll tend to that part of
+it,” replied Buck, making for his horse and swinging into the saddle, an
+example which was followed by the others, including Frenchy.
+
+As they swung off Buck noticed the condition of Frenchy's mount and
+halted. “Yu take that cayuse back an' get Cowan's,” he ordered.
+
+“That cayuse is good for Cheyenne--she eats work, an' besides I wants my
+own,” laughed Frenchy.
+
+“Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease,”
+ volunteered Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him. “Shoo! I had
+a little argument with some feather dusters--th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned
+them up.”
+
+“That so?” Asked Buck.
+
+“Yep! They sorter got into th' habit of chasin' me to Las Cruces an'
+forgot to stop.”
+
+“How many'd yu get?” Asked Lanky Smith.
+
+“Twelve. Two got away. I got two before th' crowd showed up--that makes
+fo'teen.”
+
+“Now th' cavalry'll be huntin' yu,” croaked Billy.
+
+“Hunt nothin'! They was in war-paint-think I was a target?--Think I was
+goin' to call off their shots for 'em?”
+
+They relayed at the Barred-Horseshoe and went on their way at the same
+pace. Shortly after leaving the last-named ranch Buck turned to Frenchy
+and asked, “Any of that outfit think they can play poker?”
+
+“Shore. Waffles.”
+
+“Does th' reverend Mr. Waffles think so very hard?”
+
+“He shore does.”
+
+“Do th' rest of them mavericks think so too?”
+
+“They'd bet their shirts on him.”
+
+At this juncture all were startled by a sudden eruption from Billy.
+“Haw! Haw! Haw!” he roared as the drift of Buck's intentions struck him.
+“Haw! Haw! Haw!”
+
+“Here, yu long-winded coyote,” yelled Red, banging him over the head
+with his quirt, “If yu don't 'Haw! Haw!' away from my ear I'll make it
+a Wow! Wow! What d'yu mean? Think I am a echo cliff? Yu slabsided
+doodle-bug, yu!”
+
+“G'way, yu crimson topknot, think my head's a hunk of quartz? Fer a
+plugged peso I'd strew yu all over th' scenery!” shouted Billy, feigning
+anger and rubbing his head.
+
+“There ain't no scenery around here,” interposed Lanky. “This here
+be-utiful prospect is a sublime conception of th' devil.”
+
+“Easy, boy! Them highfalutin' words'il give yu a cramp some day. Yu talk
+like a newly-made sergeant,” remarked Skinny.
+
+“He learned them words from the sky-pilot over at El Paso,” volunteered
+Hopalong, winking at Red. “He used to amble down th' aisle afore the
+lights was lit so's he could get a front seat. That was all hunky for
+a while, but every time he'd go out to irrigate, that female
+organ-wrastler would seem to call th' music off for his special benefit.
+So in a month he'd sneak in an' freeze to a chair by th' door, an' after
+a while he'd shy like blazes every time he got within eye range of th'
+church.”
+
+“Shore. But do yu know what made him get religion all of a sudden? He
+used to hang around on di' outside after th' joint let out an' trail
+along behind di' music-slinger, lookin' like he didn't know what to do
+with his hands. Then when he got woozy one time she up an' told him that
+she had got a nice long letter from her hubby. Then Mr. Lanky hit th'
+trail for Santa Fe so hard that there wasn't hardly none of it left. I
+didn't see him for a whole month,” supplied Red innocently.
+
+“Yore shore funny, ain't yu?” sarcastically grunted Lanky. “Why, I can
+tell things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year.”
+
+“I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them. Yu ought to
+be ashamed of yoreself.”
+
+“Yah!” snorted the aggrieved little man. “I had business over to Santa
+Fe!”
+
+“Shore,” endorsed Hopalong. “We've all had business over to Santa Fe.
+Why, about eight years ago I had business--”
+
+“Choke up,” interposed Red. “About eight years ago yu was washin' pans
+for cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges. Buck used to larrup yu about
+four times a day eight years ago.”
+
+To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where,
+red-faced and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.
+
+“We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang,” began Billy for the
+third time.
+
+“For heaven's sake get off that trail!” replied Lanky. “We aint goin' to
+hold 'em up. De-plomacy's th' game.”
+
+Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was
+as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in
+his grumbling.
+
+“What's the latest from Abilene way?” Asked Buck of Frenchy.
+
+“Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction,” replied the recruit.
+
+“What's that?” Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.
+
+“Why, th' settlers put up barb-wire fence so's the cattle wouldn't get
+on their farms. That would a been all right, for there wasn't much of
+it. But some Britishers who own a couple of big ranches out there got
+smart all of a sudden an' strung wire all along their lines. Punchers
+crossin' th' country would run plumb into a fence an' would have to ride
+a day an' a half, mebbe, afore they found th' corner. Well, naturally,
+when a man has been used to ridin' where he blame pleases an' as
+straight as he pleases he ain't goin' to chase along a five-foot fence
+to Trisco when he wants to get to Waco. So th' punchers got to totin'
+wire-snips, an' when they runs up agin a fence they cuts down half a
+mile or so. Sometimes they'd tie their ropes to a strand an' pull off a
+couple of miles an' then go back after th' rest. Th' ranch bosses sent
+out men to watch th' fences an' told 'em to shoot any festive puncher
+that monkeyed with th' hardware. Well, yu know what happens when a
+puncher gets shot at.”
+
+“When fences grow in Texas there'll be th' devil to pay,” said Buck. He
+hated to think that some day the freedom of the range would be annulled,
+for he knew that it would be the first blow against the cowboys'
+occupation. When a man's cattle couldn't spread out all over the land he
+wouldn't have to keep so many men. Farms would spring up and the sun of
+the free-and-easy cowboy would slowly set.
+
+“I reckons th' cutters are classed th' same as rustlers,” remarked Red
+with a gleam of temper.
+
+“By th' owners, but not by th' punchers; an' it's th' punchers that
+count,” replied Frenchy.
+
+“Well, we'll give them a fight,” interposed Hopalong, riding up. “When
+it gets so I can't go where I please I'll start on th' warpath. I won't
+buck the cavalry, but I'll keep it busy huntin' for me an' I'll have
+time to 'tend to th' wire-fence men, too. Why, we'll be told we can't
+tote our guns!”
+
+“They're sayin' that now,” replied Frenchy. “Up in Buffalo, Smith, who's
+now marshal, makes yu leave 'em with th' bartenders.”
+
+“I'd like to see any two-laigged cuss get my guns If I didn't want him
+to!” began Hopalong, indignant at the idea.
+
+“Easy, son,” cautioned Buck. “Yu would do what th' rest did because yu
+are a square man. I'm about as hard-headed a puncher as ever straddled
+leather an' I've had to use my guns purty considerable, but I reckons if
+any decent marshal asked me to cache them in a decent way, why, I'd
+do it. An' let me brand somethin' on yore mind--I've heard of Smith of
+Buffalo, an' he's mighty nifty with his hands. He don't stand off an'
+tell yu to unload yore lead-ranch, but he ambles up close an' taps yu
+on yore shirt; if yu makes a gunplay he naturally knocks yu clean across
+th' room an' unloads yu afore yu gets yore senses back. He weighs about
+a hundred an' eighty an' he's shore got sand to burn.”
+
+“Yah! When I makes a gun play she plays! I'd look nice in Abilene or
+Paso or Albuquerque without my guns, wouldn't I? Just because I totes
+them in plain sight I've got to hand 'em over to some liquor-wrastler? I
+reckons not! Some hip-pocket skunk would plug me afore I could wink. I'd
+shore look nice loping around a keno layout without my guns, in th'
+same town with some cuss huntin' me, wouldn't I? A whole lot of good a
+marshal would a done Jimmy, an' didn't Harris get his from a cur in th'
+dark?” shouted Hopalong, angered by the prospect.
+
+“We're talkin' about Buffalo, where everybody has to hang up their
+guns,” replied Buck. “An' there's th' law--”
+
+“To blazes with th' law!” whooped Hopalong in Red's ear as he
+unfastened the cinch of Red's saddle and at the same time stabbing that
+unfortunate's mount with his spurs, thereby causing a hasty separation
+of the two. When Red had picked himself up and things had quieted down
+again the subject was changed, and several hours later they rode into
+Muddy Wells, a town with a little more excuse for its existence than
+Buckskin. The wells were in an arid valley west of Guadaloupe Pass, and
+were not only muddy but more or less alkaline.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER. X. Peace Hath its Victories
+
+
+As they neared the central group of buildings they heard a hilarious
+and assertive song which sprang from the door and windows of the main
+saloon. It was in jig time, rollicking and boisterous, but the words had
+evidently been improvised for the occasion, as they clashed immediately
+with those which sprang to the minds of the outfit, although they could
+not be clearly distinguished. As they approached nearer and finally
+dismounted, however, the words became recognizable and the visitors were
+at once placed in harmony with the air of jovial recklessness by the
+roaring of the verses and the stamping of the time.
+
+     Oh we're red-hot cow-punchers playin' on our luck,
+     An' there ain't a proposition that we won't buck:
+     From sunrise to sunset we've ridden on the range,
+     But now we're oft for a howlin' change.
+
+CHORUS
+
+     Laugh a little, sing a little, all th' day;
+     Play a little, drink a little--we can pay;
+     Ride a little, dig a little an' rich we'll grow.
+     Oh, we're that bunch from th' O-Bar-O!
+
+     Oh, there was a little tenderfoot an' he had a little gun,
+     An' th' gun an' him went a-trailin' up some fun.
+     They ambles up to Santa Fe' to find a quiet game,
+     An' now they're planted with some more of th' same!
+
+As Hopalong, followed by the others, pushed open the door and entered
+he took up the chorus with all the power of Texan lungs and even Billy
+joined in. The sight that met their eyes was typical of the men and the
+mood and the place. Leaning along the walls, lounging on the table and
+straddling chairs with their forearms crossed on the backs were nine
+cowboys, ranging from old twenty to young fifty in years, and all were
+shouting the song and keeping time with their hands and feet.
+
+In the center of the room was a large man dancing a fair buck-and-wing
+to the time so uproariously set by his companions. Hatless,
+neck-kerchief loose, holsters flapping, chaps rippling out and close,
+spurs clinking and perspiration streaming from his tanned face, danced
+Bigfoot Baker as though his life depended on speed and noise. Bottles
+shook and the air was fogged with smoke and dust. Suddenly, his belt
+slipping and letting his chaps fall around his ankles, he tripped and
+sat down heavily. Gasping for breath, he held out his hand and received
+a huge plug of tobacco, for Bigfoot had won a contest.
+
+Shouts of greeting were hurled at the newcomers and many questions were
+fired at them regarding “th' latest from th' Hills.” Waffles made a rush
+for Hopalong, but fell over Big-foot's feet and all three were piled up
+in a heap. All were beaming with good nature, for they were as so many
+school boys playing truant. Prosaic cow-punching was relegated to the
+rear and they looked eagerly forward to their several missions. Frenchy
+told of the barb-wire fence war and of the new regulations of “Smith
+of Buffalo” regarding cow-punchers' guns, and from the caustic remarks
+explosively given it was plain to be seen what a wire fence could
+expect, should one be met with, and there were many imaginary Smiths put
+hors de combat.
+
+Kid Morris, after vainly trying to slip a blue-bottle fly inside of
+Hopalong's shirt, gave it up and slammed his hand on Hopalong's back
+instead, crying: “Well, I'll be doggoned if here ain't Hopalong! How's
+th' missus an' th' deacon an' all th' folks to hum? I hears yu an'
+Frenchy's reg'lar poker fiends!”
+
+“Oh, we plays onct in a while, but we don't want none of yore dust.
+Yu'll shore need it all afore th' Hills get through with yu,” laughingly
+replied Hopalong.
+
+“Oh, yore shore kind! But I was a sort of reckonin' that we needs some
+more. Perfesser P. D. Q. Waffles is our poker man an' he shore can clean
+out anything I ever saw. Mebbe yu fellers feel reckless-like an' would
+like to make a pool,” he cried, addressing the outfit of the Bar-20,
+“an' back yore boss of th' full house agin ourn?”
+
+Red turned slowly around and took a full minute in which to size the Kid
+up. Then he snorted and turned his back again.
+
+The Kid stared at him in outraged dignity. “Well, what say!” he softly
+murmured. Then he leaped forward and walloped Red on the back.
+“Hey, yore royal highness!” he shouted. “Yu-yu-yu-oh, hang it-yu! Yu
+slab-sided, ring-boned, saddle-galled shade of a coyote, do yu think I'm
+only meanderin' in th' misty vales of-of--”
+
+Suggestions intruded from various sources. “Hades?” offered Hopalong.
+“Cheyenne?” Murmured Johnny. “Misty mistiness of misty?” tentatively
+supplied Waffles.
+
+Red turned around again. “Better come up an' have somethin',” he
+sympathetically invited, wiping away an imaginary tear.
+
+“An' he's so young!” sobbed Frenchy.
+
+“An' so fair!” wailed Tex.
+
+“An' so ornery!” howled Lefty, throwing his arms around the discomfited
+youngster. Other arms went around him, and out of the sobbing mob could
+be heard earnest and heart-felt cussing, interspersed with imperative
+commands, which were gradually obeyed.
+
+The Kid straightened up his wearing apparel. “Come on, yu locoed--”
+
+“Angels?” Queried Charley Lane, interrupting him. “Sweet things?”
+ breathed Hopalong in hopeful expectancy.
+
+“Oh, blast it!” yelled the Kid as he ran out into the street to escape
+the persecution.
+
+“Good Kid, all right,” remarked Waffles. “He'll go around an' lick some
+Mexican an' come back sweet as honey.”
+
+“Did somebody say poker?” Asked Bigfoot, digressing from the Kid.
+
+“Oh, yu fellows don't want no poker. Of course yu don't. Poker's mighty
+uncertain,” replied Red.
+
+“Yah!” exclaimed Tex Le Blanc, pushing forward. “I'll just bet yu to
+a standstill that Waffles an' Salvation'll round up all th' festive
+simoleons yu can get together! An' I'll throw in Frenchy's hat as an
+inducement.”
+
+“Well, if yore shore set on it make her a pool,” replied Red, “an' th'
+winners divide with their outfit. Here's a starter,” he added, tossing a
+buckskin bag on the table. “Come on, pile 'em up.”
+
+The crowd divided as the players seated themselves at the table, the
+O-Bar-O crowd grouping themselves behind their representatives; the
+Bar-20 behind theirs. A deck of cards was brought and the game was on.
+
+Red, true to his nature, leaned back in a corner, where, hands on hips,
+he awaited any hostile demonstration on the part of the O-Bar-O; then,
+suddenly remembering, he looked half ashamed of his warlike position and
+became a peaceful citizen again. Buck leaned with his broad back against
+the bar, talking over his shoulder to the bartender, but watching
+Tenspot Davis, who was assiduously engaged in juggling a handful of
+Mexican dollars.
+
+Up by the door Bigfoot Baker, elated at winning the buck-and-wing
+contest, was endeavoring to learn a new step, while his late rival was
+drowning his defeat at Buck's elbow. Lefty Allen was softly singing a
+Mexican love song, humming when the words would not come. At the
+table could be heard low-spoken card terms and good-natured banter,
+interspersed with the clink of gold and silver and the soft pat-pat
+of the onlookers' feet unconsciously keeping time to Lefty's song.
+Notwithstanding the grim assertiveness of belts full of .45's and the
+peeping handles of long-barreled Colts, set off with picturesque chaps,
+sombreros and tinkling spurs, the scene was one of peaceful content and
+good-fellowship.
+
+“Ugh!” grunted Johnny, walking over to Red and informing that person
+that he, Red, was a worm-eaten prune and that for half a wink he,
+Johnny, would prove it. Red grabbed him by the seat of his corduroys
+and the collar of his shirt and helped him outside, where they strolled
+about, taking pot shots at whatever their fancy suggested.
+
+Down the street in a cloud of dust rumbled the Las Cruces-El Paso stage
+and the two punchers went up to meet it. Raw furrows showed in the
+woodwork, one mule was missing and the driver and guard wore fresh
+bandages. A tired tenderfoot leaped out with a sigh of relief and hunted
+for his baggage, which he found to be generously perforated. Swearing
+at the God-forsaken land where a man had to fight highwaymen and
+Indians inside of half a day he grumblingly lugged his valise toward a
+forbidding-looking shack which was called a hotel.
+
+The driver released his teams and then turned to Red. “Hullo, old hoss,
+how's th' gang?” he asked genially. “We've had a heck of a time this
+yere trip,” he went on without waiting for Red to reply. “Five miles out
+of Las Cruces we stood off a son-of-a-gun that wanted th' dude's wealth.
+Then just this side of the San Andre foothills we runs into a bunch of
+young bucks who turned us off this yere way an' gave us a runnin' fight
+purty near all th' way. I'm a whole lot farther from Paso now than I
+was when I started, an seem as I lost a jack I'll be some time gittin'
+there. Yu don't happen to sabe a jack I can borrow, do yu?”
+
+“I don't know about no jack, but I'll rope yu a bronch,” offered Red,
+winking at Johnny.
+
+“I'll pull her myself before I'll put dynamite in di' traces,” replied
+the driver. “Yu fellers might amble back a ways with me--them buddin'
+warriors'll be layin' for me.”
+
+“We shore will,” responded Johnny eagerly. “There's nine of us now an'
+there'll be nine more an' a cook to-morrow, mebby.”
+
+“Gosh, yu grows some,” replied the guard. “Eighteen'll be a plenty for
+them glory hunters.”
+
+“We won't be able to,” contradicted Red, “for things are peculiar.”
+
+At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the tenderfoot, who
+sported a new and cheap sombrero and also a belt and holster complete.
+
+“Will you gentlemen join me?” He asked, turning to Red and nodding at
+the saloon. “I am very dry and much averse to drinking alone.”
+
+“Why, shore,” responded Red heartily, wishing to put the stranger at
+ease.
+
+The game was running about even as they entered and Lefty Allen was
+singing “The Insult,” the rich tenor softening the harshness of the
+surroundings.
+
+
+   I've swum th' Colorado where she's almost lost to view, I've braced
+        th' Jaro layouts in Cheyenne;
+
+   I've fought for muddy water with a howlin' bunch of Sioux, An'
+        swallowed hot tamales, an' cayenne.
+
+   I've rid a pitchin' broncho 'till th' sky was underneath, I've
+        tackled every desert in th' land;
+
+   I've sampled XXXX whiskey 'till I couldn't hardly see, An' dallied
+        with th' quicksands of the Grande.
+
+   I've argued with th' marshals of a half-a-dozen burgs, I've been
+        dragged free an' fancy by a cow;
+
+   I've had three years' campaignin' with th' fightin', bitin' Ninth,
+        An' never lost my temper 'till right now.
+
+   I've had the yaller fever an I've been shot full of holes, I've
+        grabbed an army mule plumb by its tail;
+
+   I've never been so snortin', really highfalutin' mad As when y'u up
+        an' hands me ginger ale!
+
+Hopalong laughed joyously at a remark made by Waffles and the stranger
+glanced quickly at him. His merry, boyish face, underlined by a
+jaw showing great firmness and set with an expression of aggressive
+self-reliance, impressed the stranger and he remarked to Red, who
+lounged lazily near him, that he was surprised to see such a face on so
+young a man and he asked who the player was.
+
+“Oh, his name's Hopalong Cassidy,” answered Red. “He's di' cuss that
+raised that ruction down in Mexico last spring. Rode his cayuse in a
+saloon and played with the loungers and had to shoot one before he got
+out. When he did get out he had to fight a whole bunch of Mexicans an'
+even potted their marshal, who had di' drop on him. Then he returned and
+visited the marshal about a month later, took his gun away from him
+an' then cut th' cards to see if he was a prisoner or not. He's a shore
+funny cuss.”
+
+The tenderfoot gasped his amazement. “Are you not fooling with me?” He
+asked.
+
+“Tell him yu came after that five hundred dollars reward and see,”
+ answered Red goodnaturedly.
+
+“Holy smoke!” shouted Waffles as Hopalong won his sixth consecutive pot.
+“Did yu ever see such luck?” Frenchy grinned and some time later raked
+in his third. Salvation then staked his last cent against Hopalong's
+flush and dropped out.
+
+Tenspot flipped to Waffles the money he had been juggling and Lefty
+searched his clothes for wealth. Buck, still leaning against the bar,
+grinned and winked at Johnny, who was pouring hair-raising tales into
+the receptive ears of the stranger. Thereupon Johnny confided to his
+newly found acquaintance the facts about the game, nearly causing that
+person to explode with delight.
+
+Waffles pushed back his chair, stood up and stretched. At the finish
+of a yawn he grinned at his late adversary. “I'm all in, yu old
+son-of-a-gun. Yu shore can play draw. I'm goin' to try yu again some
+time. I was beat fair an' square an' I ain't got no kick comin', none
+whatever,” he remarked, as he shook hands with Hopalong.
+
+“Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O,” hummed the Kid as he sauntered
+in. One cheek was slightly swollen and his clothes shed dust at every
+step. “Who wins?” he inquired, not having heard Waffles.
+
+“They did, blast it!” exploded Bigfoot.
+
+One of the Kid's peculiarities was revealed in the unreasoning and
+hasty conclusions he arrived at. From no desire to imply unfairness,
+but rather because of his bitterness against failure of any kind and his
+loyalty to Waffles, came his next words:
+
+“Mebby they skinned yu.”
+
+Like a flash Waffles sprang before him, his hand held up, palm out. “He
+don't mean nothin'--he's only a ignorant kid!” he cried.
+
+Buck smiled and wrested the Colt from Johnny's ever-ready hand. “Here's
+another,” he said. Red laughed softly and rolled Johnny on the floor.
+“Yu jackass,” he whispered, “don't yu know better'n to make a gun-play
+when we needs them all?”
+
+“What are we goin' to do?” Asked Tex, glancing at the bulging pockets of
+Hopalong's chaps.
+
+“We're goin' to punch cows again, that's what we're to do,” answered
+Bigfoot dismally.
+
+“An' whose are we goin' to punch? We can't go back to the old man,”
+ grumbled Tex.
+
+Salvation looked askance at Buck and then at the others. “Mebby,” he
+began, “Mebby we kin git a job on th' Bar-20.” Then turning to Buck
+again he bluntly asked, “Are yu short of punchers?”
+
+“Well, I might use some,” answered the foreman, hesitating. “But
+ I ain't got only one cook, an'----”
+
+“We'll git yu th' cook all O.K.,” interrupted Charley Lane vehemently.
+“Hi, yu cook!” he shouted, “amble in here an' git a rustle on!”
+
+There was no reply, and after waiting for a minute he and Waffles went
+into the rear room, from which there immediately issued great chunks
+of profanity and noise. They returned looking pugnacious and disgusted,
+with a wildly fighting man who was more full of liquor than was the
+bottle which he belligerently waved.
+
+“This here animated distillery what yu sees is our cook,” said Waffles.
+“We eats his grub, nobody else. If he gits drunk that's our funeral; but
+he won't get drunk! If yu wants us to punch for yu say so an' we does;
+if yu don't, we don't.”
+
+“Well,” replied Buck thoughtfully, “mebby I can use yu.” Then with a
+burst of recklessness he added, “Yes, if I lose my job! But yu might
+sober that Mexican up if yu let him fall in th' horse trough.”
+
+As the procession wended its way on its mission of wet charity, carrying
+the cook in any manner at all, Frenchy waved his long lost sombrero
+at Buck, who stood in the door, and shouted, “Yu old son-of-a-gun, I'm
+proud to know yu!”
+
+Buck smiled and snapped his watch shut “Time to amble,” he said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. Holding the Claim
+
+
+“Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O,” hummed Waffles, sinking the
+branding-iron in the flank of a calf. The scene was one of great
+activity and hilarity. Several fires were burning near the huge corral
+and in them half a dozen irons were getting hot. Three calves were being
+held down for the brand of the “Bar-20” and two more were being dragged
+up on their sides by the ropes of the cowboys, the proud cow-ponies
+showing off their accomplishments at the expense of the calves'
+feelings. In the corral the dust arose in steady clouds as calf after
+calf was “cut out” by the ropers and dragged out to get “tagged.” Angry
+cows fought valiantly for their terrorized offspring, but always to no
+avail, for the hated rope of some perspiring and dust-grimed rider sent
+them crashing to earth. Over the plain were herds of cattle and groups
+of madly riding cowboys, and two cook wagons were stalled a short
+distance from the corral. The round-up of the Bar-20 was taking place,
+and each of the two outfits tried to outdo the other and each individual
+strove for a prize. The man who cut out and dragged to the fire the most
+calves in three days could leave for the Black Hills at the expiration
+of that time, the rest to follow as soon as they could.
+
+In this contest Hopalong Cassidy led his nearest rival, Red Connors,
+both of whom were Bar-20 men, by twenty cut-outs, and there remained but
+half an hour more in which to compete. As Red disappeared into the sea
+of tossing horns Hopalong dashed out with a whoop.
+
+ “Hi, yu trellis-built rack of bones, come along there! Whoop!” he
+yelled, turning the prisoner over to the squad by the fire.
+
+“Chalk up this here insignificant wart of cross-eyed perversity: an' how
+many?” He called as he galloped back to the corral.
+
+“One ninety-eight,” announced Buck, blowing the sand from the tally
+sheet. “That's shore goin' some,” he remarked to himself.
+
+When the calf sprang up it was filled with terror, rage and pain, and
+charged at Billy from the rear as that pessimistic soul was leaning over
+and poking his finger at a somber horned-toad. “Wow!” he yelled as his
+feet took huge steps up in the air, each one strictly on its own course.
+“Woof!” he grunted in the hot sand as he arose on his hands and knees
+and spat alkali.
+
+“What's s'matter?” He asked dazedly of Johnny Nelson. “Ain't it funny!”
+ he yelled sarcastically as he beheld Johnny holding his sides with
+laughter. “Ain't it funny!” he repeated belligerently. “Of course that
+four-laigged, knock-kneed, wobblin' son-of-a-Piute had to cut me out.
+They wasn't nobody in sight but Billy! Why didn't yu say he was comin'?
+Think I can see four ways to once? Why didn't--” At this point Red
+cantered up with a calf, and by a quick maneuver, drew the taut rope
+against the rear of Billy's knees, causing that unfortunate to sit down
+heavily. As he arose choking with broken-winded profanity Red dragged
+the animal to the fire, and Billy forgot his grievances in the press of
+labor.
+
+“How many, Buck?” Asked Red.
+
+“One-eighty.”
+
+“How does she stand?”
+
+“Yore eighteen to th' bad,” replied the foreman. “Th' son-of-a-gun!”
+ marveled Red, riding off.
+
+Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the
+corner eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
+
+“Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow,” he
+announced as he turned it over to the branding man. Buck made a tally in
+a separate column and released the animal. “Hullo, Red! Workin'?” Asked
+Hopalong of his rival.
+
+“Some, yu little cuss,” answered Red with all the good nature in the
+world. Hopalong was his particular “side partner,” and he could lose to
+him with the best of feelings.
+
+“Yu looks so nice an' cool, an' clean, I didn't know,” responded
+Hopalong, eyeing a streak of sweat and dust which ran from Red's eyes to
+his chin and then on down his neck.
+
+“What yu been doin'? Plowin' with yore nose?” Returned Red, smiling
+blandly at his friend's appearance.
+
+“Yah!” snorted Hopalong, wheeling toward the corral. “Come on, yu
+pie-eatin' doodle-bug; I'll beat yu to th' gate!”
+
+The two ponies sent showers of sand all over Billy, who eyed them
+in pugnacious disgust. “Of all th' locoed imps that ever made life
+miserable fer a man, them's th' worst! Is there any piece of fool
+nonsense they hain't harnessed me with?” He beseeched of Buck. “Is there
+anything they hain't done to me? They hides my liquor; they stuffs th'
+sweat band of my hat with rope; they ties up my pants; they puts water
+in. My boots an' toads in my bunk--ain't they never goin' to get sane?”
+
+“Oh, they're only kids--they can't help it,” offered Buck. “Didn't they
+hobble my cayuse when I was on him an' near bust my neck?”
+
+Hopalong interrupted the conversation by driving up another calf, and
+Buck, glancing at his watch, declared the contest at an end.
+
+“Yu wins,” he remarked to the newcomer. “An' now yu get scarce or Billy
+will shore straddle yore nerves. He said as how he was goin' to get
+square on yu to-night.”
+
+“I didn't, neither, Hoppy!” earnestly contradicted Billy, who bad
+visions of a night spent in torment as a reprisal for such a threat.
+“Honest I didn't, did I, Johnny?” He asked appealingly.
+
+“Yu shore did,” lied Johnny, winking at Red, who had just ridden up.
+
+“I don't know what yore talkin' about, but yu shore did,” replied Red.
+
+“If yu did,” grinned Hopalong, “I'll shore make yu hard to find. Come
+on, fellows,” he said; “grub's ready. Where's Frenchy?”
+
+“Over chewin' th' rag with Waffles about his hat--he's lost it again,”
+ answered Red. “He needs a guardian fer that bonnet. Th' Kid an'
+Salvation has jammed it in th' corral fence an' Waffles has to stand fer
+it.”
+
+“Let's put it in th' grub wagon an see him cuss cookie,” suggested
+Hopalong.
+
+“Shore,” indorsed Johnny; Cookie'll feed him bum grub for a week to get
+square.
+
+Hopalong and Johnny ambled over to the corral and after some trouble
+located the missing sombrero, which they carried to the grub wagon and
+hid in the flour barrel. Then they went over by the excited owner and
+dropped a few remarks about how strange the cook was acting and how he
+was watching Frenchy.
+
+Frenchy jumped at the bait and tore over to the wagon, where he and the
+cook spent some time in mutual recrimination. Hopalong nosed around and
+finally dug up the hat, white as new-fallen snow.
+
+“Here's a hat--found it in th' dough barrel,” he announced, handing it
+over to Frenchy, who received it in open-mouthed stupefaction.
+
+“Yu pie-makin' pirate! Yu didn't know where my lid was, did yu! Yu
+cross-eyed lump of hypocrisy!” yelled Frenchy, dusting off the flour
+with one full-armed swing on the cook's face, driving it into that
+unfortunate's nose and eyes and mouth. “Yu white-washed Chink, yu--rub
+yore face with water an' yu've got pancakes.”
+
+“Hey! What you doin'!” yelled the cook, kicking the spot where he had
+last seen Frenchy. “Don't yu know better'n that!”
+
+“Yu live close to yoreself or I'll throw yu so high th' sun'll duck,”
+ replied Frenchy, a smile illuminating his face.
+
+“Hey, cookie,” remarked Hopalong confidentially, “I know who put up this
+joke on yu. Yu ask Billy who hid th' hat,” suggested the tease. “Here he
+comes now--see how queer he looks.”
+
+“Th' mournful Piute,” ejaculated the cook. “I'll shore make him wish
+he'd kept on his own trail. I'll flavor his slush [coffee] with year-old
+dish-rags!”
+
+At this juncture Billy ambled up, keeping his weather eye peeled for
+trouble. “Who's a dish-rag?” He queried. The cook mumbled something
+about crazy hens not knowing when to quit cackling and climbed up in his
+wagon. And that night Billy swore off drinking coffee.
+
+When the dawn of the next day broke, Hopalong was riding toward the
+Black Hills, leaving Billy to untie himself as best he might.
+
+The trip was uneventful and several weeks later he entered Red Dog, a
+rambling shanty town, one of those western mushrooms that sprang up in a
+night. He took up his stand at the Miner's Rest, and finally secured
+six claims at the cost of nine hundred hard-earned dollars, a fund
+subscribed by the outfits, as it was to be a partnership affair.
+
+He rode out to a staked-off piece of hillside and surveyed his purchase,
+which consisted of a patch of ground, six holes, six piles of dirt and
+a log hut. The holes showed that the claims bad been tried and found
+wanting.
+
+He dumped his pack of tools and provisions, which he had bought on the
+way up, and lugged them into the cabin. After satisfying his curiosity
+he went outside and sat down for a smoke, figuring up in his mind how
+much gold he could carry on a horse. Then, as he realized that he could
+get a pack mule to carry the surplus, he became aware of a strange
+presence near at hand and looked up into the muzzle of a Sharp's rifle.
+He grasped the situation in a flash and calmly blew several heavy smoke
+rings around the frowning barrel.
+
+“Well?” He asked slowly.
+
+“Nice day, stranger,” replied the man with the rifle, “but don't yu
+reckon yu've made a mistake?”
+
+Hopalong glanced at the number burned on a near-by stake and carelessly
+blew another smoke ring. He was waiting for the gun to waver.
+
+“No, I reckons not,” he answered. “Why?”
+
+“Well, I'll jest tell yu since yu asks. This yere claim's mine an' I'm
+a reg'lar terror, I am. That's why; an' seein' as it is, yu better amble
+some.”
+
+Hopalong glanced down the street and saw an interested group watching
+him, which only added to his rage for being in such a position. Then
+he started to say something, faltered and stared with horror at a point
+several feet behind his opponent. The “terror” sprang to one side in
+response to Hop-along's expression, as if fearing that a snake or some
+such danger threatened him. As he alighted in his new position he fell
+forward and Hopalong slid a smoking Colt in its holster.
+
+Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim. Hopalong
+reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle, with which
+he covered their advance.
+
+“Anything yu want?” he shouted savagely.
+
+The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two others,
+but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a move that
+would screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a warning shout.
+Then the two held up their hands and advanced.
+
+“We wants to git Dan,” called out one of them, nodding at the prostrate
+figure.
+
+“Come ahead,” replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
+
+
+They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those
+whom they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who
+only smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a
+siege, should one come. He had one hundred rounds of ammunition and
+provisions enough for two weeks, with the assurance of reinforcements
+long before that time would expire. He cut several rough loopholes and
+laid out his weapons for quick handling. He knew that he could stop any
+advance during the day and planned only for night attacks. How long
+he could go without sleep did not bother him, because he gave it no
+thought, as he was accustomed to short naps and could awaken at will or
+at the slightest sound.
+
+As dusk merged into dark he crept forth and collected several handfuls
+of dry twigs, which he scattered around the hut, as the cracking of
+these would warn him of an approach. Then he went in and went to sleep.
+
+He awoke at daylight after a good night's rest, and feasted on canned
+beans and peaches. Then he tossed the cans out of the door and shoved
+his hat out. Receiving no response he walked out and surveyed the town
+at his feet. A sheepish grin spread over his face as he realized that
+there was no danger. Several red-shirted men passed by him on their way
+to town, and one, a grizzled veteran of many gold camps, stopped and
+sauntered up to him.
+
+“Mornin',” said Hopalong.
+
+“Mornin',” replied the stranger. “I thought I'd drop in an' say that I
+saw that gun-play of yourn yesterday. Yu ain't got no reason to look fer
+a rush. This camp is half white men an' half bullies, an' th' white men
+won't stand fer no play like that. Them fellers that jest passed are
+neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs them. But yu
+wants to look out fer th' joints in th' town. Guess this business is out
+of yore line,” he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
+
+“She shore is, but I'm here to stay. Got tired of punchin' an' reckoned
+I'd get rich.” Here he smiled and glanced at the hole. “How're yu makin'
+out?” He asked.
+
+“'Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's so
+high. Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents.”
+
+Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet. “Any
+marshal in this burg?”
+
+“Yep. But he's one of th' gang. No good, an' drunk half th' time an'
+half drunk th' rest. Better come down an' have something,” invited the
+miner.
+
+“I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door,” replied
+the puncher.
+
+“Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till yu
+gits back. He can hold her all right. Hey, Jake!” he called to a man who
+was some hundred paces distant; “Come down here an' keep house till we
+gits back, will yu?”
+
+The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and his
+newly found friend started for the town.
+
+They entered the “Miner's Rest” and Hopalong fixed the room in his mind
+with one swift glance. Three men--and they looked like the crowd he had
+stopped before--were playing poker at a table near the window. Hopalong
+leaned with his back to the bar and talked, with the players always in
+sight.
+
+Soon the door opened and a bewhiskered, heavy-set man tramped in, and
+walking up to Hopalong, looked him over.
+
+“Huh,” he sneered, “Yu are th' gent with th' festive guns that plugged
+Dan, ain't yu?”
+
+Hopalong looked at him in the eyes and quietly replied:
+
+“An' who th' deuce are yu?”
+
+The stranger's eyes blazed and his face wrinkled with rage as he
+aggressively shoved his jaw close to Hopalong's face.
+
+“Yu runt, I'm a better man than yu even if yu do wear hair pants,”
+ referring to Hopalong's chaps. “Yu cow-wrastlers make me tired, an' I'm
+goin' to show yu that this town is too good for you. Yu can say it right
+now that yu are a ornery, game-leg--”
+
+Hopalong smashed his insulter squarely between the eyes with all the
+power of his sinewy body behind the blow, knocking him in a heap under
+the table. Then he quickly glanced at the card players and saw a hostile
+movement. His gun was out in a flash and he covered the trio as he
+walked up to them. Never in all his life had he felt such a desire to
+kill. His eyes were diamond points of accumulated fury, and those whom
+he faced quailed before him.
+
+“Yu scum! Draw, please draw! Pull yore guns an' gimme my chance! Three
+to one, an' I'll lay my guns here,” he said, placing them on the bar and
+removing his hands. “'Nearer My God to Thee' is purty appropriate fer
+yu just now! Yu seem to be a-scared of yore own guns. Git down on yore
+dirty knees an' say good an' loud that yu eats dirt! Shout out that
+yu are too currish to live with decent men,” he said, even-toned and
+distinct, his voice vibrant with passion as he took up his Colts. “Get
+down!” he repeated, shoving the weapons forward and pulling back the
+hammers.
+
+The trio glanced at each other, and all three dropped to their knees and
+repeated in venomous hatred the words Hopalong said for them.
+
+“Now git! An' if I sees yu when I leaves I'll send yu after yore friend.
+I'll shoot on sight now. Git!” He escorted them to the door and kicked
+the last one out.
+
+His miner friend still leaned against the bar and looked his approval.
+
+“Well done, youngster! But yu wants to look out--that man,” pointing to
+the now groping victim of Hopalong's blow, “is th' marshal of this town.
+He or his pals will get yu if yu don't watch th' corners.”
+
+Hopalong walked over to the marshal, jerked him to his feet and slammed
+him against the bar. Then he tore the cheap badge from its place and
+threw it on the floor. Reaching down, he drew the marshal's revolver
+from its holster and shoved it in its owner's hand.
+
+“Yore th' marshal of this place an' it's too good for me, but yore gain'
+to pick up that tin lie,” pointing at the badge, “an' yore goin' to do
+it right now. Then yore gain' to get kicked out of that door, an' if
+yu stops runnin' while I can see yu I'll fill yu so full of holes yu'll
+catch cold. Yore a sumptious marshal, yu are! Yore th' snortingest ki-yi
+that ever stuck its tail atween its laigs, yu are. Yu pop-eyed wall
+flower, yu wants to peep to yoreself or some papoose'll slide yu over
+th' Divide so fast yu won't have time to grease yore pants. Pick up that
+license-tag an' let me see you perculate so lively that yore back'll
+look like a ten-cent piece in five seconds. Flit!”
+
+The marshal, dazed and bewildered, stooped and fumbled for the badge.
+Then he stood up and glanced at the gun in his hand and at the eager man
+before him. He slid the weapon in his belt and drew his hand across his
+fast-closing eyes. Cursing streaks of profanity, he staggered to the
+door and landed in a heap in the street from the force of Hopalong's
+kick. Struggling to his feet, he ran unsteadily down the block and
+disappeared around a corner.
+
+The bartender, cool and unperturbed, pushed out three glasses on his
+treat: “I've seen yu afore, up in Cheyenne--'member? How's yore friend
+Red?” He asked as he filled the glasses with the best the house
+afforded.
+
+“Well, shore 'nuff! Glad to see yu, Jimmy! What yu doin' away off here?”
+ Asked Hopalong, beginning to feel at home.
+
+“Oh, jest filterin' round like. I'm awful glad to see yu--this yere wart
+of a town needs siftin' out. It was only last week I was wishin' one of
+yore bunch 'ud show up--that ornament yu jest buffaloed shore raised th'
+devil in here, an' I wished I had somebody to prospect his anatomy for a
+lead mine. But he's got a tough gang circulating with him. Ever hear of
+Dutch Shannon or Blinky Neary? They's with him.”
+
+“Dutch Shannon? Nope,” he replied.
+
+“Bad eggs, an' not a-carin' how they gits square. Th' feller yu' salted
+yesterday was a bosom friend of th' marshal's, an' he passed in his
+chips last night.”
+
+“So?”
+
+“Yep. Bought a bottle of ready-made nerve an' went to his own funeral.
+Aristotle Smith was lookin' fer him up in Cheyenne last year. Aristotle
+said he'd give a century fer five minutes' palaver with him, but he
+shied th' town an' didn't come back. Yu know Aristotle, don't yu? He's
+th' geezer that made fame up to Poison Knob three years ago. He used to
+go to town ridin' astride a log on th' lumber flume. Made four miles in
+six minutes with th' promise of a ruction when he stopped. Once when
+he was loaded he tried to ride back th' same way he came, an' th'
+first thing he knowed he was three miles farther from his supper an'
+a-slippin' down that valley like he wanted to go somewhere. He swum out
+at Potter's Dam an' it took him a day to walk back. But he didn't make
+that play again, because he was frequently sober, an' when he wasn't
+he'd only stand off an' swear at th' slide.”
+
+“That's Aristotle, all hunk. He's th' chap that used to play checkers
+with Deacon Rawlins. They used empty an' loaded shells for men, an' when
+they got a king they'd lay one on its side. Sometimes they'd jar th'
+board an' they'd all be kings an' then they'd have a cussin' match,”
+ replied Hopalong, once more restored to good humor.
+
+“Why,” responded Jimmy, “he counted his wealth over twice by mistake an'
+shore raised a howl when he went to blow it--thought he's been robbed,
+an' laid behind th' houses fer a week lookin' fer th' feller that done
+it.”
+
+“I've heard of that cuss--he shore was th' limit. What become of him?”
+ Asked the miner.
+
+“He ambled up to Laramie an' stuck his head in th' window of that joint
+by th' plaza an' hollered 'Fire,' an' they did. He was shore a good
+feller, all th' same,” answered the bartender. Hopalong laughed and
+started for the door. Turning around he looked at his miner friend and
+asked: “Comin' along? I'm goin' back now.”
+
+“Nope. Reckon I'll hit th' tiger a whirl. I'll stop in when I passes.”
+
+“All right. So long,” replied Hopalong, slipping out of the door and
+watching for trouble. There was no opposition shown him, and he arrived
+at his claim to find Jake in a heated argument with another of the gang.
+
+“Here he comes now,” he said as Hopalong walked up. “Tell him what yu
+said to me.”
+
+“I said yu made a mistake,” said the other, turning to the cowboy in a
+half apologetic manner.
+
+“An' what else?” Insisted Jake.
+
+“Why, ain't that all?” Asked the claim-jumper's friend in feigned
+surprise, wishing that he had kept quiet.
+
+“Well I reckons it is if yu can't back up yore words,” responded Jake in
+open contempt.
+
+Hopalong grabbed the intruder by the collar of his shirt and hauled him
+off the claim. “Yu keep off this, understand? I just kicked yore marshal
+out in th' street, an' I'll pay yu th' next call. If yu rambles in range
+of my guns yu'll shore get in th' way of a slug. Yu an' yore gang wants
+to browse on th' far side of th' range or yu'll miss a sunrise some
+mornin'. Scoot!”
+
+Hopalong turned to his companion and smiled. “What'd he say?” He asked
+genially.
+
+“Oh, he jest shot off his mouth a little. They's all no good. I've
+collided with lots of them all over this country. They can't face a good
+man an' keep their nerve. What'd yu say to th' marshal?”
+
+“I told him what he was an' threw him outen th' street,” replied
+Hopalong. “In about two weeks we'll have a new marshal an' he'll shore
+be a dandy.”
+
+“Yes? Why don't yu take th' job yoreself? We're with yu.”
+
+“Better man comin'. Ever hear of Buck Peters or Red Connors of th'
+Bar-20, Texas?”
+
+“Buck Peters? Seems to me I have. Did he punch fer th' Tin-Cup up in
+Montana, 'bout twenty years back?”
+
+“Shore! Him and Frenchy McAllister punched all over that country an'
+they used to paint Cheyenne, too,” replied Hopalong, eagerly.
+
+“I knows him, then. I used to know Frenchy, too. Are they comin' up
+here?”
+
+“Yes,” responded Hopalong, struggling with another can while waiting for
+the fire to catch up. “Better have some grub with me--don't like to eat
+alone,” invited the cowboy, the reaction of his late rage swinging him
+to the other extreme.
+
+When their tobacco had got well started at the close of the meal and
+content had taken possession of them Hopalong laughed quietly and
+finally spoke:
+
+“Did yu ever know Aristotle Smith when yu was up in Montana?”
+
+“Did I! Well, me an' Aristotle prospected all through that country till
+he got so locoed I had to watch him fer fear he'd blow us both up. He
+greased th' fryin' pan with dynamite one night, an' we shore had to eat
+jerked meat an' canned stuff all th' rest of that trip. What made yu
+ask? Is he comin' up too?”
+
+“No, I reckons not. Jimmy, th' bartender, said that he cashed in up
+at Laramie. Wasn't he th' cuss that built that boat out there on th'
+Arizona desert because he was scared that a flood might come? Th' sun
+shore warped that punt till it wasn't even good for a hencoop.”
+
+“Nope. That was Sister--Annie Tompkins. He was purty near as bad as
+Aristotle, though. He roped a puma up on th' Sacramentos, an' didn't
+punch no more fer three weeks. Well, here comes my pardner an' I reckons
+I'll amble right along. If yu needs any referee or a side pardner in any
+ruction yu has only got to warble up my way. So long.”
+
+The next ten days passed quietly, and on the afternoon of the eleventh
+Hopalong's miner friend paid him a visit.
+
+“Jake recommends yore peaches,” he laughed as he shook Hopalong's hand.
+“He says yu boosted another of that crowd. That bein' so I thought I
+would drop in an' say that they're comin' after yu to-night, shore. Just
+heard of it from yore friend Jimmy. Yu can count on us when th' rush
+comes. But why didn't yu say yu was a pard of Buck Peters'? Me an' him
+used to shoot up Laramie together. From what yore friend James says, yu
+can handle this gang by yore lonesome, but if yu needs any encouragement
+yu make some sign an' we'll help th' event along some. They's eight of
+us that'll be waitin' up to get th' returns an' we're shore goin' to be
+in range.”
+
+“Gee, it's nice to run across a friend of Buck's! Ain't he a
+son-of-a-gun?” Asked Hopalong, delighted at the news. Then, without
+waiting for a reply, he went on: “Yore shore square, all right, an' I
+hates to refuse yore offer, but I got eighteen friends comin' up an'
+they ought to get here by tomorrow. Yu tell Jimmy to head them this way
+when they shows up an' I'll have th' claim for them. There ain't no
+use of yu fellers gettin' mixed up in this. Th' bunch that's comin' can
+clean out any gang this side of sunup, an' I expects they'll shore be
+anxious to begin when they finds me eatin' peaches an' wastin' my time
+shootin' bums. Yu pass th' word along to yore friends, an' tell them to
+lay low an' see th' Arory Boerallis hit this town with its tail up. Tell
+Jimmy to do it up good when he speaks about me holdin' th' claim--I likes
+to see Buck an' Red fight when they're good an' mad.”
+
+The miner laughed and slapped Hopalong on the shoulder. “Yore all right,
+youngster! Yore just like Buck was at yore age. Say now, I reckons he
+wasn't a reg'lar terror on wheels! Why, I've seen him do more foolish
+things than any man I knows of, an' I calculate that if Buck pals
+with yu there ain't no water in yore sand. My name's Tom Halloway,” he
+suggested.
+
+“An' mine's Hopalong Cassidy,” was the reply. “I've heard Buck speak of
+yu.”
+
+“Has yu? Well, don't it beat all how little this world is? Somebody
+allus turnin' up that knows somebody yu knows. I'll just amble along,
+Mr. Cassidy, an' don't yu be none bashful about callin' if yu needs me.
+Any pal of Buck's is my friend. Well, so long,” said the visitor as he
+strode off. Then he stopped and turned around. “Hey, mister!” he
+called. “They are goin' to roll a fire barrel down agin yu from behind,”
+ indicating by an outstretched arm the point from where it would start.
+“If it burns yu out I'm goin' to take a band from up there,” pointing to
+a cluster of rocks well to the rear of where the crowd would work from,
+“an' I don't care whether yu likes it or not,” he added to himself.
+
+Hopalong scratched his head and then laughed. Taking up a pick and
+shovel, he went out behind the cabin and dug a trench parallel with and
+about twenty paces away from the rear wall. Heaping the excavated dirt
+up on the near side of the cut, he stepped back and surveyed his labor
+with open satisfaction. “Roll yore fire barrel an' be dogged,” he
+muttered. “Mebby she won't make a bully light for pot shots, though,” he
+added, grinning at the execution he would do.
+
+Taking up his tools, he went up to the place from where the gang would
+roll the barrel, and made half a dozen mounds of twigs, being careful to
+make them very flimsy. Then he covered them with earth and packed
+them gently. The mounds looked very tempting from the view-point of a
+marksman in search of earth-works, and appeared capable of stopping any
+rifle ball that could be fired against them. Hopalong looked them over
+critically and stepped back.
+
+“I'd like to see th' look on th' face of th' son-of-a-gun that uses them
+for cover--won't he be surprised” and he grinned gleefully as he pictured
+his shots boring through them. Then he placed in the center of each a
+chip or a pebble or something that he thought would show up well in the
+firelight.
+
+Returning to the cabin, he banked it up well with dirt and gravel,
+and tossed a few shovelfuls up on the roof as a safety valve to his
+exuberance. When he entered the door he had another idea, and fell to
+work scooping out a shallow cellar, deep enough to shelter him when
+lying at full length. Then he stuck his head out of the window and
+grinned at the false covers with their prominent bull's-eyes.
+
+“When that prize-winnin' gang of ossified idiots runs up agin' these
+fortifications they shore will be disgusted. I'll bet four dollars an'
+seven cents they'll think their medicine-man's no good. I hopes that
+puff-eyed marshal will pick out that hump with th' chip on it,” and he
+hugged himself in anticipation.
+
+He then cut down a sapling and fastened it to the roof and on it he
+tied his neckerchief, which fluttered valiantly and with defiance in
+the light breeze. “I shore hopes they appreciates that,” he remarked
+whimsically, as he went inside the hut and closed the door.
+
+The early part of the evening passed in peace, and Hopalong, tired of
+watching in vain, wished for action. Midnight came, and it was not until
+half an hour before dawn that he was attacked. Then a noise sent him to
+a loophole, where he fired two shots at skulking figures some distance
+off. A fusillade of bullets replied; one of them ripped through the door
+at a weak spot and drilled a hole in a can of the everlasting peaches.
+Hopalong set the can in the frying pan and then flitted from loophole to
+loophole, shooting quick and straight. Several curses told him that he
+had not missed, and he scooped up a finger of peach juice. Shots thudded
+into the walls of his fort in an unceasing stream, and, as it grew
+lighter, several whizzed through the loopholes. He kept close to the
+earth and waited for the rush, and when it came sent it back, minus two
+of its members.
+
+As he reloaded his Colts a bullet passed through his shirt sleeve and he
+promptly nailed the marksman. He looked out of a crack in the rear wall
+and saw the top of an adjoining hill crowned with spectators, all of
+whom were armed. Some time later he repulsed another attack and heard a
+faint cheer from his friends on the hill. Then he saw a barrel, blazing
+from end to end, roll out from the place he had so carefully covered
+with mounds. It gathered speed and bounded over the rough ground,
+flashed between two rocks and leaped into the trench, where it crackled
+and roared in vain.
+
+“Now,” said Hopalong, blazing at the mounds as fast as he could fire his
+rifle, “we'll just see what yu thinks of yore nice little covers.”
+
+Yells of consternation and pain rang out in a swelling chorus, and legs
+and arms jerked and flopped, one man, in his astonishment at the shot
+that tore open his cheek, sitting up in plain sight of the marksman.
+Roars of rage floated up from the main body of the besiegers, and the
+discomfited remnant of barrel-rollers broke for real cover.
+
+Then he stopped another rush from the front, made upon the supposition
+that he was thinking only of the second detachment. A hearty cheer arose
+from Tom Halloway and his friends, ensconced in their rocky position,
+and it was taken up by those on the hill, who danced and yelled their
+delight at the battle, to them more humorous than otherwise.
+
+This recognition of his prowess from men of the caliber of his audience
+made him feel good, and he grinned: “Gee, I'll bet Halloway an' his
+friends is shore itchin' to get in this,” he murmured, firing at a head
+that was shown for an instant. “Wonder what Red'll say when Jimmy tells
+him--bet he'll plow dust like a cyclone,” and Hopalong laughed, picturing
+to himself the satiation of Red's anger. “Old red-headed son-of-a-gun,”
+ murmured the cowboy affectionately, “he shore can fight.”
+
+As he squinted over the sights of his rifle his eye caught sight of a
+moving body of men as they cantered over the flats about two miles away.
+In his eagerness he forgot to shoot and carefully counted them. “Nine,”
+ he grumbled. “Wonder what's th' matter?” Fearing that they were not
+his friends. Then a second body numbering eight cantered into sight and
+followed the first.
+
+“Whoop! There's th' Red-head!” he shouted, dancing in his joy. “Now,”
+ he shouted at the peach can joyously, “yu wait about thirty minutes an'
+yu'll shore reckon Hades has busted loose!”
+
+He grabbed up his Colts, which he kept loaded for repelling rushes, and
+recklessly emptied them into the bushes and between the rocks and trees,
+searching every likely place for a human target. Then he slipped his
+rifle in a loophole and waited for good shots, having worked off the
+dangerous pressure of his exuberance.
+
+Soon he heard a yell from the direction of the “Miner's Rest,” and fell
+to jamming cartridges into his revolvers so that he could sally out and
+join in the fray by the side of Red.
+
+The thunder of madly pounding hoofs rolled up the trail, and soon a
+horse and rider shot around the corner and headed for the copse. Three
+more raced close behind and then a bunch of six, followed by the rest,
+spread out and searched for trouble.
+
+Red, a Colt in each hand and hatless, stood up in his stirrups and
+sent shot after shot into the fleeing mob, which he could not follow on
+account of the nature of the ground. Buck wheeled and dashed down the
+trail again with Red a close second, the others packed in a solid mass
+and after them. At the first level stretch the newcomers swept down
+and hit their enemies, going through them like a knife through cheese.
+Hopalong danced up and down with rage when he could not find his horse,
+and had to stand and yell, a spectator.
+
+The fight drifted in among the buildings, where it became a series of
+isolated duels, and soon Hopalong saw panic-stricken horses carrying
+their riders out of the other side of the town. Then he went gunning for
+the man who had rustled his horse. He was unsuccessful and returned to
+his peaches.
+
+Soon the riders came up, and when they saw Hopalong shove a peach into
+his powder-grimed mouth they yelled their delight.
+
+“Yu old maverick! Eatin' peaches like yu was afraid we'd git some!”
+ shouted Red indignantly, leaping down and running up to his pal as
+though to thrash him.
+
+Hopalong grinned pleasantly and fired a peach against Red's eye. “I
+was savin' that one for yu, Reddie,” he remarked, as he avoided Buck's
+playful kick. “Yu fellers git to work an' dig up some wealth--I'm
+hungry.” Then he turned to Buck: “Yore th' marshal of this town, an' any
+son-of-a-gun what don't like it had better write. Oh, yes, here comes
+Tom Halloway--'member him?”
+
+Buck turned and faced the miner and his hand went out with a jerk.
+
+“Well, I'll be locoed if I didn't punch with yu on th' Tin-Cup!” he
+said.
+
+“Yu shore did an' yu was purty devilish, but that there Cassidy of yourn
+beats anything I ever seen.”
+
+“He's a good kid,” replied Buck, glancing to where Red and Hopalong were
+quarreling as to who had eaten the most pie in a contest held some years
+before.
+
+Johnny, nosing around, came upon the perforated and partially scattered
+piles of earth and twigs, and vented his disgust of them by kicking them
+to pieces. “Hey! Hoppy! Oh, Hoppy!” he called, “what are these things?”
+
+Hopalong jammed Red's hat over that person's eyes and replied: “Oh,
+them's some loaded dice I fixed for them.”
+
+“Yu son-of-a-gun!” sputtered Red, as he wrestled with his friend in the
+exuberance of his pride. “Yu son-of-a-gun! Yu shore ought to be ashamed
+to treat 'em that way!”
+
+“Shore,” replied Hopalong. “But I ain't!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. The Hospitality of Travennes
+
+
+Mr. Buck Peters rode into Alkaline one bright September morning and
+sought refreshment at the Emporium. Mr. Peters had just finished some
+business for his employer and felt the satisfaction that comes with
+the knowledge of work well done. He expected to remain in Alkaline
+for several days, where he was to be joined by two of his friends and
+punchers, Mr. Hopalong Cassidy and Mr. Red Connors, both of whom were
+at Cactus Springs, seventy miles to the east. Mr. Cassidy and his friend
+had just finished a nocturnal tour of Santa Fe and felt somewhat peevish
+and dull in consequence, not to mention the sadness occasioned by
+the expenditure of the greater part of their combined capital on such
+foolishness as faro, roulette and wet-goods.
+
+Mr. Peters and his friends had sought wealth in the Black Hills, where
+they had enthusiastically disfigured the earth in the fond expectation
+of uncovering vast stores of virgin gold. Their hopes were of an
+optimistic brand and had existed until the last canister of cornmeal
+flour had been emptied by Mr. Cassidy's burro, which waited not upon
+it's master's pleasure nor upon the ethics of the case. When Mr. Cassidy
+had returned from exercising the animal and himself over two miles of
+rocky hillside in the vain endeavor to give it his opinion of burros and
+sundry chastisements, he was requested, as owner of the beast, to
+give his counsel as to the best way of securing eighteen breakfasts.
+Remembering that the animal was headed north when he last saw it and
+that it was too old to eat, anyway, he suggested a plan which had
+worked successfully at other times for other ends, namely, poker.
+Mr. McAllister, an expert at the great American game, volunteered his
+service in accordance with the spirit of the occasion and, half an hour
+later, he and Mr. Cassidy drifted into Pell's poker parlors, which
+were located in the rear of a Chinese laundry, where they gathered unto
+themselves the wherewithal for the required breakfasts. An hour spent
+in the card room of the “Hurrah” convinced its proprietor that they had
+wasted their talents for the past six weeks in digging for gold.
+The proof of this permitted the departure of the outfits with their
+customary elan.
+
+At Santa Fe the various individuals had gone their respective ways, to
+reassemble at the ranch in the near future, and for several days they
+had been drifting south in groups of twos and threes and, like chaff
+upon a stream, had eddied into Alkaline, where Mr. Peters had found
+them arduously engaged in postponing the final journey. After he had
+gladdened their hearts and soothed their throats by making several pithy
+remarks to the bartender, with whom he established their credit, he
+cautioned them against letting any one harm them and, smiling at the
+humor of his warning, left abruptly.
+
+Cactus Springs was burdened with a zealous and initiative organization
+known as vigilantes, whose duty it was to extend the courtesies of the
+land to cattle thieves and the like. This organization boasted of the
+name of Travennes' Terrors and of a muster roll of twenty. There was
+also a boast that no one had ever escaped them which, if true, was in
+many cases unfortunate. Mr. Slim Travennes, with whom Mr. Cassidy had
+participated in an extemporaneous exchange of Colt's courtesies in
+Santa Fe the year before, was the head of the organization and was also
+chairman of the committee on arrivals, and the two gentlemen of the
+Bar-20 had not been in town an hour before he knew of it.
+
+Being anxious to show the strangers every attention and having a keen
+recollection of the brand of gun-play commanded by Mr. Cassidy, he
+planned a smoother method of procedure and one calculated to permit him
+to enjoy the pleasures of a good old age. Mr. Travennes knew that horse
+thieves were regarded as social enemies, that the necessary proof of
+their guilt was the finding of stolen animals in their possession, that
+death was the penalty and that every man, whether directly concerned or
+not, regarded, himself as judge, jury and executioner.
+
+He had several acquaintances who were bound to him by his knowledge of
+crimes they had committed and would could not refuse his slightest wish.
+Even if they had been free agents they were not above causing the death
+of an innocent man. Mr. Travennes, feeling very self-satisfied at his
+cleverness, arranged to have the proof placed where it would do the most
+harm and intended to take care of the rest by himself.
+
+Mr. Connors, feeling much refreshed and very hungry, arose at daylight
+the next morning, and dressing quickly, started off to feed and water
+the horses. After having several tilts with the landlord about the
+bucket he took his departure toward the corral at the rear. Peering
+through the gate, he could hardly believe his eyes. He climbed over it
+and inspected the animals at close range, and found that those which he
+and his friend had ridden for the last two months were not to be
+seen, but in their places were two better animals, which concerned him
+greatly. Being fair and square himself, he could not understand the
+change and sought enlightenment of his more imaginative and suspicious
+friend.
+
+“Hey, Hopalong!” he called, “come out here an' see what th' blazes has
+happened!”
+
+Mr. Cassidy stuck his auburn head out of the wounded shutter and
+complacently surveyed his companion. Then he saw the horses and looked
+hard.
+
+“Quit yore foolin', yu old cuss,” he remarked pleasantly, as he groped
+around behind him with his feet, searching for his boots. “Anybody would
+think yu was a little boy with yore fool jokes. Ain't yu ever goin' to
+grow up?”
+
+“They've got our bronch,” replied Mr. Connors in an injured tone.
+“Honest, I ain't kiddin' yu,” he added for the sake of peace.
+
+“Who has?” Came from the window, followed immediately by, “Yu've got my
+boots!”
+
+“I ain't--they're under th' bunk,” contradicted and explained Mr.
+Connors. Then, turning to the matter in his mind he replied, “I don't
+know who's got them. If I did do yu think I'd be holdin' hands with
+myself?”
+
+“Nobody'd accuse yu of anything like that,” came from the window,
+accompanied by an overdone snicker.
+
+Mr. Connors flushed under his accumulated tan as he remembered the
+varied pleasures of Santa Fe, and he regarded the bronchos in anything
+but a pleasant state of mind.
+
+Mr. Cassidy slid through the window and approached his friend, looking
+as serious as he could.
+
+“Any tracks?” He inquired, as he glanced quickly over the ground to see
+for himself.
+
+“Not after that wind we had last night. They might have growed there for
+all I can see,” growled Mr. Connors.
+
+“I reckon we better hold a pow-wow with th' foreman of this shack an'
+find out what he knows,” suggested Mr. Cassidy. “This looks too good to
+be a swap.”
+
+Mr. Connors looked his disgust at the idea and then a light broke in
+upon him. “Mebby they was hard pushed an' wanted fresh cayuses,” he
+said. “A whole lot of people get hard pushed in this country. Anyhow,
+we'll prospect th' boss.”
+
+They found the proprietor in his stocking feet, getting the breakfast,
+and Mr. Cassidy regarded the preparations with open approval. He counted
+the tin plates and found only three, and, thinking that there would be
+more plates if there were others to feed, glanced into the landlord's
+room. Not finding signs of other guests, on whom to lay the blame for
+the loss of his horse, he began to ask questions.
+
+“Much trade?” He inquired solicitously.
+
+“Yep,” replied the landlord.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked at the three tins and wondered if there had ever been
+any more with which to supply his trade. “Been out this morning?” he
+pursued.
+
+“Nope.”
+
+“Talks purty nigh as much as Buck,” thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+aloud, “Anybody else here?”
+
+“Nope.”
+
+Mr. Cassidy lapsed into a painful and disgusted silence and his friend
+tried his hand.
+
+“Who owns a mosaic bronch, Chinee flag on th' near side, Skillet brand?”
+ asked Mr. Connors.
+
+“Quien sabe?”
+
+“Gosh, he can nearly keep still in two lingoes,” thought Mr. Cassidy.
+
+“Who owns a bob-tailed pinto, saddle-galled, cast in th' near eye, Star
+Diamond brand, white stockin' on th' off front prop, with a habit of
+scratchin' itself every other minute?” went on Mr. Connors.
+
+“Slim Travennes,” replied the proprietor, flopping a flapjack. Mr.
+Cassidy reflectively scratched the back of his hand and looked innocent,
+but his mind was working overtime.
+
+“Who's Slim Travennes?” Asked Mr. Connors, never having heard of that
+person, owing to the reticence of his friend.
+
+“Captain of th' vigilantes.”
+
+“What does he look like on th' general run?” Blandly inquired Mr.
+Cassidy, wishing to verify his suspicions. He thought of the trouble
+he had with Mr. Travennes up in Santa Fe and of the reputation that
+gentleman possessed. Then the fact that Mr. Travennes was the leader
+of the local vigilantes came to his assistance and he was sure that
+the captain had a hand in the change. All these points existed in misty
+groups in his mind, but the next remark of the landlord caused them to
+rush together and reveal the plot.
+
+“Good,” said the landlord, flopping another flapjack, “and a warnin' to
+hoss thieves.
+
+“Ahem,” coughed Mr. Cassidy and then continued, “is he a tall, lanky,
+yaller-headed son-of-a-gun, with a big nose an' lots of ears?”
+
+“Mebby so,” answered the host.
+
+“Urn, slopping over into bad Sioux,” thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+aloud, “How long has he hung around this here layout?” At the same time
+passing a warning glance at his companion.
+
+The landlord straightened up. “Look here, stranger, if yu hankers after
+his pedigree so all-fired hard yu had best pump him.”
+
+“I told yu this here feller wasn't a man what would give away all he
+knowed,” lied Mr. Connors, turning to his friend and indicating the
+host. “He ain't got time for that. Anybody can see that he is a powerful
+busy man. An' then he ain't no child.”
+
+Mr. Cassidy thought that the landlord could tell all he knew in about
+five minutes and then not break any speed records for conversation, but
+he looked properly awed and impressed. “Well, yu needn't go an' get mad
+about it! I didn't know, did I?”
+
+“Who's gettin' mad?” Pugnaciously asked Mr. Connors. After his injured
+feelings had been soothed by Mr. Cassidy's sullen silence he again
+turned to the landlord.
+
+“What did this Travennes look like when yu saw him last?” Coaxed Mr.
+Connors.
+
+“Th' same as he does now, as yu can see by lookin' out of th' window.
+That's him down th' street,” enlightened the host, thawing to the
+pleasant Mr. Connors.
+
+Mr. Cassidy adopted the suggestion and frowned. Mr. Travennes and two
+companions were walking toward the corral and Mr. Cassidy once again
+slid out of the window, his friend going by the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. Travennes' Discomfiture
+
+
+When Mr. Travennes looked over the corral fence he was much chagrined to
+see a man and a Colt both paying strict attention to his nose.
+
+“Mornin', Duke,” said the man with the gun. “Lose anything?”
+
+Mr. Travennes looked back at his friends and saw Mr. Connors sitting on
+a rock holding two guns. Mr. Travennes' right and left wings were the
+targets and they pitted their frowns against Mr. Connors' smile.
+
+“Not that I knows of,” replied Mr. Travennes, shifting his feet
+uneasily.
+
+“Find anything?” Came from Mr. Cassidy as he sidled out of the gate.
+
+“Nope,” replied the captain of the Terrors, eying the Colt. “Are yu in
+the habit of payin' early mornin' calls to this here corral?” persisted
+Mr. Cassidy, playing with the gun.
+
+“Ya-as. That's my business--I'm th' captain of the vigilantes.”
+
+“That's too bad,” sympathized Mr. Cassidy, moving forward a step.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked put out and backed off. “What yu mean, stickin' me
+up this-away?” He asked indignantly.
+
+“Yu needn't go an' get mad,” responded Mr. Cassidy. “Just business. Yore
+cayuse an' another shore climbed this corral fence last night an' ate up
+our bronchs, an' I just nachurly want to know about it.”
+
+Mr. Travennes looked his surprise and incredulity and craned his neck to
+see for himself. When he saw his horse peacefully scratching itself he
+swore and looked angrily up the street. Mr. Connors, behind the shack,
+was hidden to the view of those on the street, and when two men ran up
+at a signal from Mr. Travennes, intending to insert themselves in the
+misunderstanding, they were promptly lined up with the first two by the
+man on the rock.
+
+“Sit down,” invited Mr. Connors, pushing a chunk of air out of the way
+with his guns. The last two felt a desire to talk and to argue the case
+on its merits, but refrained as the black holes in Mr. Connors' guns
+hinted at eruption. “Every time yu opens yore mouths yu gets closer to
+th' Great Divide,” enlightened that person, and they were childlike in
+their belief.
+
+Mr. Travennes acted as though he would like to scratch his thigh where
+his Colt's chafed him, but postponed the event and listened to Mr.
+Cassidy, who was asking questions.
+
+“Where's our cayuses, General?”
+
+Mr. Travennes replied that he didn't know. He was worried, for he
+feared that his captor didn't have a secure hold on the hammer of the
+ubiquitous Colt's.
+
+“Where's my cayuse?” Persisted Mr. Cassidy.
+
+“I don't know, but I wants to ask yu how yu got mine,” replied Mr.
+Travennes.
+
+“Yu tell me how mine got out an' I'll tell yu how yourn got in,”
+ countered Mr. Cassidy.
+
+Mr. Connors added another to his collection before the captain replied.
+
+“Out in this country people get in trouble when they're found with other
+folks' cayuses,” Mr. Travennes suggested.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked interested and replied: “Yu shore ought to borrow
+some experience, an' there's lots floating around. More than one man has
+smoked in a powder mill, an' th' number of them planted who looked in
+th' muzzle of a empty gun is scandalous. If my remarks don't perculate
+right smart I'll explain.”
+
+Mr. Travennes looked down the street again, saw number five added to the
+line-up, and coughed up chunks of broken profanity, grieving his host by
+his lack of courtesy.
+
+“Time,” announced Mr. Cassidy, interrupting the round. “I wants them
+cayuses an' I wants 'em right now. Yu an' me will amble off an' get
+'em. I won't bore yu with tellin' yu what'll happen if yu gets skittish.
+Slope along an' don't be scared; I'm with yu,” assured Mr. Cassidy as he
+looked over at Mr. Connors, whose ascetic soul pined for the flapjacks
+of which his olfactories caught intermittent whiffs.
+
+“Well, Red, I reckons yu has got plenty of room out here for all yu may
+corral; anyhow there ain't a whole lot more. My friend Slim an' I are
+shore going to have a devil of a time if we can t find them cussed
+bronchs. Whew, them flapjacks smell like a plain trail to payday. Just
+think of th' nice maple juice we used to get up to Cheyenne on them
+frosty mornings.”
+
+“Get out of here an' lemme alone! 'What do yu allus want to go an' make
+a feller unhappy for? Can't yu keep still about grub when yu knows I
+ain't had my morning's feed yet?” Asked Mr. Connors, much aggrieved.
+
+“Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp. Yu
+tend to business an' watch th' herd. That shorthorn yearling at th'
+end of th' line”--pointing to a young man who looked capable of taking
+risks--“he looks like he might take a chance an' gamble with yu,”
+ remarked Mr. Cassidy, placing Mr. Travennes in front of him and
+pushing back his own sombrero. “Don't put too much maple juice on them
+flapjacks, Red,” he warned as he poked his captive in the back of the
+neck as a hint to get along. Fortunately Mr. Connors' closing remarks
+are lost to history.
+
+Observing that Mr. Travennes headed south on the quest, Mr. Cassidy
+reasoned that the missing bronchos ought to be somewhere in the north,
+and he postponed the southern trip until such time when they would
+have more leisure at their disposal. Mr. Travennes showed a strong
+inclination to shy at this arrangement, but quieted down under
+persuasion, and they started off toward where Mr. Cassidy firmly
+believed the North Pole and the cayuses to be.
+
+“Yu has got quite a metropolis here,” pleasantly remarked Mr. Cassidy
+as under his direction they made for a distant corral. “I can see
+four different types of architecture, two of 'em on one residence,” he
+continued as they passed a wood and adobe hut. “No doubt the railroad
+will put a branch down here some day an' then yu can hire their old cars
+for yore public buildings. Then when yu gets a post-office yu will shore
+make Chicago hustle some to keep her end up. Let's assay that hollow for
+horse-hide; it looks promisin'.”
+
+The hollow was investigated but showed nothing other than cactus and
+baked alkali. The corral came next, and there too was emptiness. For an
+hour the search was unavailing, but at the end of that time Mr. Cassidy
+began to notice signs of nervousness on the part of his guest, which
+grew less as they proceeded. Then Mr. Cassidy retraced their steps to
+the place where the nervousness first developed and tried another way
+and once more returned to the starting point.
+
+“Yu seems to hanker for this fool exercise,” quoth Mr. Trayennes with
+much sarcasm. “If yu reckons I'm fond of this locoed ramblin' yu shore
+needs enlightenment.”
+
+“Sometimes I do get these fits,” confessed Mr. Cassidy, “an' when I
+do I'm dead sore on objections. Let's peek in that there hut,” he
+suggested.
+
+“Huh; yore ideas of cayuses are mighty peculiar. Why don't you look for
+'em up on those cactuses or behind that mesquite? I wouldn't be a heap
+surprised if they was roostin' on th' roof. They are mighty knowing
+animals, cayuses. I once saw one that could figger like a schoolmarm,”
+ remarked Mr. Travennes, beginning sarcastically and toning it down as he
+proceeded, out of respect for his companion's gun.
+
+“Well, they might be in th' shack,” replied Mr. Cassidy. “Cayuses know
+so much that it takes a month to unlearn them. I wouldn't like to bet
+they ain't in that hut, though.”
+
+Mr. Travennes snickered in a manner decidedly uncomplimentary and began
+to whistle, softly at first. The gentleman from the Bar-20 noticed that
+his companion was a musician; that when he came to a strong part he
+increased the tones until they bid to be heard at several hundred yards.
+When Mr. Travennes had reached a most passionate part in “Juanita” and
+was expanding his lungs to do it justice he was rudely stopped by the
+insistent pressure of his guard's Colt's on the most ticklish part of
+his ear.
+
+“I shore wish yu wouldn't strain yoreself thataway,” said Mr. Cassidy,
+thinking that Mr. Travennes might be endeavoring to call assistance. “I
+went an' promised my mother on her deathbed that I wouldn't let nobody
+whistle out loud like that, an' th' opery is hereby stopped. Besides,
+somebody might hear them mournful tones an' think that something is th'
+matter, which it ain't.”
+
+Mr. Travennes substituted heartfelt cursing, all of which was heavily
+accented.
+
+As they approached the hut Mr. Cassidy again tickled his prisoner and
+insisted that he be very quiet, as his cayuse was very sensitive to
+noise and it might be there. Mr. Cassidy still thought Mr. Travennes
+might have friends in the hut and wouldn't for the world disturb them,
+as he would present a splendid target as he approached the building.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. The Tale of a Cigarette
+
+
+The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two of
+whom were Mexicans. Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt called
+upon to relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched that
+gentleman's thigh and then disarmed the sleeping guards.
+
+“One man an' a half,” murmured Mr. Cassidy, it being in his creed that
+it took four Mexicans to make one Texan.
+
+In the far corner of the room were two bronchos, one of which tried in
+vain to kick Mr. Cassidy, not realizing that he was ten feet away. The
+noise awakened the sleepers, who sat up and then sprang to their feet,
+their hands instinctively streaking to their thighs for the weapons
+which peeked contentedly from the bosom of Mr. Cassidy's open shirt. One
+of the Mexicans made a lightning-like grab for the back of his neck for
+the knife which lay along his spine and was shot in the front of his
+neck for his trouble. The shot spoiled his aim, as the knife flashed
+past Mr. Cassidy's arm, wide by two feet, and thudded into the door
+frame, where it hummed angrily.
+
+“The only man who could do that right was th' man who invented it, Mr.
+Bowie, of Texas,” explained Mr. Cassidy to the other Mexican. Then he
+glanced at the broncho, that was squealing in rage and fear at the shot,
+which sounded like a cannon in the small room, and laughed.
+
+“That's my cayuse, all right, an' he wasn't up no cactus nor roostin' on
+th' roof, neither. He's th' most affectionate beast I ever saw. It took
+me nigh onto six months afore I could ride him without fighting him to a
+standstill,” said Mr. Cassidy to his guest. Then he turned to the horse
+and looked it over. “Come here! What d'yu mean, acting thataway? Yu
+ragged end of nothin' wobbling in space! Yu wall-eyed, ornery, locoed
+guide to Hades! Yu won't be so frisky when yu've made them seventy hot
+miles between here an' Alkaline in five hours,” he promised, as he made
+his way toward the animal.
+
+Mr. Travennes walked over to the opposite wall and took down a pouch
+of tobacco which hung from a peg. He did this in a manner suggesting
+ownership, and after he had deftly rolled a cigarette with one hand he
+put the pouch in his pocket and, lighting up, inhaled deeply and with
+much satisfaction. Mr. Cassidy turned around and glanced the group over,
+wondering if the tobacco had been left in the hut on a former call.
+
+“Did yu find yore makings?” He asked, with a note of congratulations in
+his voice.
+
+“Yep. Want one?” Asked Mr. Travennes.
+
+Mr. Cassidy ignored the offer and turned to the guard whom he had found
+asleep.
+
+“Is that his tobacco?” He asked, and the guard, anxious to make
+everything run smoothly, told the truth and answered:
+
+“Shore. He left it here last night,” whereupon Mr. Travennes swore and
+Mr. Cassidy smiled grimly.
+
+“Then yu knows how yore cayuse got in an' how mine got out,” said the
+latter. “I wish yu would explain,” he added, fondling his Colts.
+
+Mr. Travennes frowned and remained silent.
+
+“I can tell yu, anyhow,” continued Mr. Cassidy, still smiling, but his
+eyes and jaw belied the smile. “Yu took them cayuses out because yu
+wanted yourn to be found in their places. Yu remembered Santa Fe an'
+it rankled in yu. Not being man enough to notify me that yu'd shoot on
+sight an' being afraid my friends would get yu if yu plugged me on th'
+sly, yu tried to make out that me an' Red rustled yore cayuses. That
+meant a lynching with me an' Red in th' places of honor. Yu never saw
+Red afore, but yu didn't care if he went with me. Yu don't deserve fair
+play, but I'm going to give it to yu because I don't want anybody to say
+that any of th' Bar-20 ever murdered a man, not even a skunk like yu.
+My friends have treated me too square for that. Yu can take this gun an
+yu can do one of three things with it, which are: walk out in th' open
+a hundred paces an' then turn an walk toward me--after you face me yu can
+set it a-going whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore hat
+an' I'll put mine an' th' others back by the cayuses. Then we'll toss
+up an' th' lucky man gets it to use as he wants. Th' third is, shoot
+yourself.”
+
+Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the weapon,
+muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at “twirling,”
+ he kept its recipient covered during the operation. Then, placing his
+second Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them through the door,
+being very careful not to lose the drop on his now armed prisoner.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead, and
+being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked to
+the east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway to the
+meridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected from the
+shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and interfere with
+the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for small favors.
+
+Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the lay
+of the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small but deep
+hole out toward the east and that it was about the required distance
+away. This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in the burning
+sun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in the manner
+he had seen the Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed hobbies, specific
+and general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared from sight as the
+surprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his assistance.
+
+Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that his help was
+not needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste covered the
+distance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr. Travennes swore
+in self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots barked a cactus
+which leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked several clouds of
+alkali near that person's nose, causing him to sneeze, duck, and grin.
+
+“It's his own gun,” grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through his
+sombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had a whole belt
+full of .44's. If it had been Mr. Cassidy's gun that had been handed over
+he would have enjoyed the joke on Mr. Travennes, who would have had five
+cartridges between himself and the promised eternity, as he would have
+been unable to use the .44's in Mr. Cassidy's .45, while the latter would
+have gladly consented to the change, having as he did an extra .45. Never
+before had Mr. Cassidy looked with reproach upon his .45 caliber Colt's,
+and he sighed as he used it to notify Mr. Travennes that arbitration
+was not to be considered, which that person indorsed, said indorsement
+passing so close to Mr. Cassidy's ear that he felt the breeze made by
+it.
+
+“He's been practicin' since I plugged him up in Santa Fe,” thought Mr.
+Cassidy, as he retired around the hut to formulate a plan of campaign.
+
+Mr. Travennes sang “Hi-le, hi-lo,” and other selections, principally
+others, and wondered how Mr. Cassidy could hoist him out. The slack of
+his belt informed him that he was in the middle of a fast, and suggested
+starvation as the derrick that his honorable and disgusted adversary
+might employ.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, while figuring out his method of procedure, absent-mindedly
+jabbed a finger in his eye, and the ensuing tears floated an idea to
+him. He had always had great respect for ricochet shots since his friend
+Skinny Thompson had proved their worth on the hides of Sioux. If he
+could disturb the sand and convey several grains of it to Mr. Travennes'
+eyes the game would be much simplified. While planning for the proposed
+excavation, a la Colt's, he noticed several stones lying near at hand,
+and a new and better scheme presented itself for his consideration.
+If Mr. Travennes could be persuaded to get out of--well, it was worth
+trying.
+
+Mr. Cassidy lined up his gloomy collection and tersely ordered them to
+turn their backs to him and to stay in that position, the suggestion
+being that if they looked around they wouldn't be able to dodge quickly
+enough. He then slipped bits of his lariat over their wrists and ankles,
+tying wrists to ankles and each man to his neighbor. That finished
+to his satisfaction, he dragged them in the hut to save them from the
+burning rays of the sun.
+
+Having performed this act of kindness, he crept along the hot sand,
+taking advantage of every bit of cover afforded, and at last he reached
+a point within a hundred feet of the besieged. During the trip
+Mr. Travennes sang to his heart's content, some of the words being
+improvised for the occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr.
+Cassidy's respect for his own wisdom if he should hear them. Mr. Cassidy
+heard, however, and several fragments so forcibly intruded on his peace
+of mind that he determined to put on the last verse himself and to suit
+himself.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut. He was
+down again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him and
+he believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of the
+building, which caused him to fear that he was expected to live on
+nothing as long as he could and then give himself up. Just to show his
+defiance he stretched himself out on his back and sang with all his
+might, his sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out of
+his eyes.
+
+He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he had
+intended, and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg. Looking
+up, he saw another missile curve into his patch of sky and swiftly bear
+down on him. He avoided it by a hair's breadth and wondered what
+had happened. Then what Mr. Travennes thought was a balloon, being
+unsophisticated in matters pertaining to aerial navigation, swooped down
+upon him and smote him on the shoulder and also bounced off.
+
+Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up elocution as he
+dodged another stone and wished that the mesquite-loving crank had put
+on a roof. In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on a
+level with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through his
+head-gear and into the opposite wall made him wish that there had been
+constructed a cellar, also.
+
+“Hi-le, hi-lo” intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of the
+surplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's foot
+shaved Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest his
+enemy.
+
+“Hibernate, blank yu!” derisively shouted the human catapult as he
+released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail. “Draw in yore laigs
+an' buck,” was his God-speed to the missile.
+
+“Hey, yu!” indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective storm
+cellar. “Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?”
+
+“Hi-le, hi-lo,” sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in the
+direction of the complainant. Then he stood erect and awaited results
+with a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole. A hat waved
+and an excited voice bit off chunks of expostulation and asked for an
+armistice. Then two hands shot up and Mr. Travennes, sore and disgusted
+and desperate, popped his head up an blinked at Mr. Cassidy's gun.
+
+“Yu was fillin' th' hole up,” remarked Mr. Travennes in an accusing
+tone, hiding the real reason for his evacuation. “In a little while I'd
+a been th' top of a pile instead of th' bottom of a hole,” he announced,
+crawling out and rubbing his head.
+
+Mr. Cassidy grinned and ordered his prisoner to one side while be
+secured the weapon which lay in the hole. Having obtained it as quickly
+as possible be slid it in his open shirt and clambered out again.
+
+“Yu remind me of a feller I used to know,” remarked Mr. Travennes, as he
+led the way to the hut, trying not to limp. “Only he throwed dynamite.
+That was th' way he cleared off chaparral--blowed it off. He got so used
+to heaving away everything he lit that he spoiled three pipes in two
+days.”
+
+Mr. Cassidy laughed at the fiction and then became grave as he pictured
+Mr. Connors sitting on the rock and facing down a line of men, any
+one of whom was capable of his destruction if given the interval of a
+second.
+
+When they arrived at the hut Mr. Cassidy observed that the prisoners had
+moved considerably. There was a cleanly swepttrail four yards long where
+they had dragged themselves, and they sat in the end nearer the guns.
+Mr. Cassidy smiled and fired close to the Mexican's ear, who lost in one
+frightened jump a little of what he had so laboriously gained.
+
+“Yu'll wear out yore pants,” said Mr. Cassidy, and then added grimly,
+“an' my patience.”
+
+Mr. Travennes smiled and thought of the man who so ably seconded Mr.
+Cassidy's efforts and who was probably shot by this time. The outfit of
+the Bar-20 was so well known throughout the land that he was aware the
+name of the other was Red Connors. An unreasoning streak of sarcasm
+swept over him and he could not resist the opportunity to get in a stab
+at his captor.
+
+“Mebby yore pard has wore out somebody's patience, too,” said Mr.
+Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
+
+His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.
+Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
+
+“I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip,” said Mr. Cassidy, trembling with
+scorn and anger, “so yu can pull yourself together. I'll give yu another
+chance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K. If he
+ain't, I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts yu'll make
+a good acre of weeds. If he is all right yu'd better vamoose this range,
+for there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into next time. What friends
+yu have left will have to tote yu off an' plant yu,” he finished with
+emphasis. He drove the horses outside, and, after severing the bonds on
+his prisoners, lined them up.
+
+“Yu,” he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, “yu amble right smart
+toward Canada,” pointing to the north. “Keep a-going till yu gets far
+enough away so a Colt won't find yu.” Here he grinned with delight as he
+saw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and, drawing it
+forth, he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who were already
+industriously plodding northward. “Hey!” he shouted, and when they
+sullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he gleefully waved his
+rifle at them and warned them further: “This is a Sharp's an' it's good
+for half a mile, so don't stop none too soon.”
+
+Having sent them directly away from their friends so they could not have
+him “potted” on the way back, he mounted his broncho and indicated to
+Mr. Travennes that he, too, was to ride, watching that that person did
+not make use of the Winchester which Mr. Connors was foolish enough to
+carry around on his saddle. Winchesters were Mr. Cassidy's pet aversion
+and Mr. Connors' most prized possession, this difference of opinion
+having upon many occasions caused hasty words between them. Mr. Connors,
+being better with his Winchester than Mr. Cassidy was with his Sharp's,
+had frequently proved that his choice was the wiser, but Mr. Cassidy
+was loyal to the Sharp's and refused to be convinced. Now, however,
+the Winchester became pregnant with possibilities and, therefore, Mr.
+Travennes rode a few yards to the left and in advance, where the rifle
+was in plain sight, hanging as it did on the right of Mr. Connors'
+saddle, which Mr. Travennes graced so well.
+
+The journey back to town was made in good time and when they came to
+the buildings Mr. Cassidy dismounted and bade his companion do likewise,
+there being too many corners that a fleeing rider could take advantage
+of. Mr. Travennes felt of his bumps and did so, wishing hard things
+about Mr. Cassidy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. The Penalty
+
+
+While Mr. Travennes had been entertained in the manner narrated, Mr.
+Connors had passed the time by relating stale jokes to the uproarious
+laughter of his extremely bored audience, who had heard the aged efforts
+many times since they had first seen the light of day, and most of whom
+earnestly longed for a drink. The landlord, hearing the hilarity, had
+taken advantage of the opportunity offered to see a free show. Not being
+able to see what the occasion was for the mirth, he had pulled on his
+boots and made his way to the show with a flapjack in the skillets
+which, in his haste, he had forgotten to put down. He felt sure that he
+would be entertained, and he was not disappointed. He rounded the corner
+and was enthusiastically welcomed by the hungry Mr. Connors, whose
+ubiquitous guns coaxed from the skillet its dyspeptic wad.
+
+“Th' saints be praised!” ejaculated Mr. Connors as a matter of form,
+not having a very clear idea of just what saints were, but he knew what
+flapjacks were and greedily overcame the heroic resistance of the one
+provided by chance and his own guns. As he rolled his eyes in ecstatic
+content the very man Mr. Cassidy had warned him against suddenly arose
+and in great haste disappeared around the corner of the corral, from
+which point of vantage he vented his displeasure at the treatment he had
+received by wasting six shots at the mortified Mr. Connors.
+
+“Steady!” sang out that gentleman as the line-up wavered. “He's
+a precedent to hell for yu fellers! Don't yu get ambitious, none
+whatever.” Then he wondered how long it would take the fugitive to
+secure a rifle and return to release the others by drilling him at long
+range.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by the vision of a red head that climbed
+into view over a rise a short distance off and he grinned his delight as
+Mr. Cassidy loomed up, jaunty and triumphant. Mr. Cassidy was executing
+calisthenics with a Colt in the rear of Mr. Travennes' neck and was
+leading the horses.
+
+Mr. Connors waved the skillet and his friend grinned his congratulations
+at what the token signified.
+
+“I see yu got some more,” said Mr. Cassidy, as he went down the line-up
+from the rear and collected nineteen weapons of various makes and
+conditions, this number being explained by the fact that all but one of
+the prisoners wore two. Then he added the five that had kicked against
+his ribs ever since he had left the hut, and carefully threaded the end
+of his lariat through the trigger guards.
+
+“Looks like we stuck up a government supply mule, Red,” he remarked,
+as he fastened the whole collection to his saddle. “Fourteen colts, six
+Merwin-Hulbert's, three Prescott, an' one puzzle,” he added, examining
+the puzzle. “Made in Germany, it says, and it shore looks like it. It's
+got little pins stickin' out of th' cylinder, like you had to swat it
+with a hammer or a rock, or somethin' to make it go off. Must be damn
+dangerous, to most anybody around. Looks more like a cactus than a
+six-shooter-gosh, it's a ten-shooter! I allus said them Dutchmen was
+bloody-minded cusses. Think of bein' able to shoot yoreself ten times
+before th' blame thing stops!” Then looking at the line-up for the owner
+of the weapon, he laughed at the woeful countenances displayed. “Did
+they sidle in by companies or squads?” He asked.
+
+“By twos, mostly. Then they parade-rested an' got discharged from duty.
+I had eleven, but one got homesick, or disgusted, or something, an'
+deserted. It was that cussed flapjack,” confessed and explained Mr.
+Connors.
+
+“What!” said Mr. Cassidy in a loud voice. “Got away! Well, we'll have to
+make our get-away plumb sudden or we'll never go.”
+
+At this instant the escaped man again began his bombardment from the
+corner of the corral and Mr. Cassidy paused, indignant at the fusillade
+which tore up the dust at his feet. He looked reproachfully at Mr.
+Connors and then circled out on the plain until he caught a glimpse of
+a fleeing cow-puncher, whose back rapidly grew smaller in the
+fast-increasing distance.
+
+“That's yore friend, Red,” said Mr. Cassidy as he returned from his
+reconnaissance. “He's that short-horn yearling. Mebby he'll come back
+again,” he added hopefully. “Anyhow, we've got to move. He'll collect
+reinforcements an' mebby they all won't shoot like him. Get up on yore
+Clarinda an' hold th' fort for me,” he ordered, pushing the farther
+horse over to his friend. Mr. Connors proved that an agile man can mount
+a restless horse and not lose the drop, and backed off three hundred
+yards, deftly substituting his Winchester for the Colts. Then Mr.
+Cassidy likewise mounted with his attention riveted elsewhere and backed
+off to the side of his companion.
+
+The bombardment commenced again from the corral, but this time Mr.
+Connors' rifle slid around in his lap and exploded twice. The bellicose
+gentleman of the corral yelled in pain and surprise and vanished.
+
+“Purty good for a Winchester,” said Mr. Cassidy in doubtful
+congratulation.
+
+“That's why I got him,” snapped Mr. Connors in brief reply, and then
+he laughed. “Is them th' vigilantes what never let a man get away?” He
+scornfully asked, backing down the street and patting his Winchester.
+
+“Well, Red, they wasn't all there. They was only twelve all told,”
+ excused Mr. Cassidy. “An' then we was two,” he explained, as he wished
+the collection of six-shooters was on Mr. Connors' horse so they
+wouldn't bark his shin.
+
+“An we still are,” corrected Mr. Connors, as they wheeled and galloped
+for Alkaline.
+
+As the sun sank low on the horizon Mr. Peters finished ordering
+provisions at the general store, the only one Alkaline boasted, and
+sauntered to the saloon where he had left his men. He found diem a few
+dollars richer, as they had borrowed ten dollars from the bartender on
+their reputations as poker players and had used the money to stake Mr.
+McAllister in a game against the local poker champion.
+
+“Has Hopalong an' Red showed up yet?” Asked Mr. Peters, frowning at the
+delay already caused.
+
+“Nope,” replied Johnny Nelson, as he paused from tormenting Billy
+Williams.
+
+At that minute the doorway was darkened and Mr. Cassidy and Mr. Connors
+entered and called for refreshments. Mr. Cassidy dropped a huge bundle
+of six-shooters on the floor, making caustic remarks regarding their
+utility.
+
+“What's th' matter?” Inquired Mr. Peters of Mr. Cassidy. “Yu looks mad
+an' anxious. An' where in blazes did yu corral them guns?”
+
+Mr. Cassidy drank deep and then reported with much heat what had
+occurred at Cactus Springs and added that he wanted to go back and wipe
+out the town, said desire being luridly endorsed by Mr. Connors.
+
+“Why, shore,” said Mr. Peters, “we'll all go. Such doings must be
+stopped instanter.” Then he turned to the assembled outfits and asked
+for a vote, which was unanimous for war.
+
+Shortly afterward eighteen angry cowpunchers rode to the east, two
+red-haired gentlemen well in front and urging speed. It was 8 P.M. when
+they left Alkaline, and the cool of the night was so delightful that the
+feeling of ease which came upon them made them lax and they lost three
+hours in straying from the dim trail. At eight o'clock the next morning
+they came in sight of their destination and separated into two squads,
+Mr. Cassidy leading the northern division and Mr. Connors the one which
+circled to the south. The intention was to attack from two directions,
+thus taking the town from front and rear.
+
+Cactus Springs lay gasping in the excessive heat and the vigilantes who
+had toed Mr. Connors' line the day before were lounging in the shade of
+the “Palace” saloon, telling what they would do if they ever faced the
+same man again. Half a dozen sympathizers offered gratuitous condolence
+and advice and all were positive that they knew where Mr. Cassidy and
+Mr. Connors would go when they died.
+
+The rolling thunder of madly pounding hoofs disturbed their post-mortem
+and they arose in a body to flee from half their number, who, guns in
+hands, charged down upon them through clouds of sickly white smoke.
+Travennes' Terrors were minus many weapons and they could not be
+expected to give a glorious account of themselves. Windows rattled and
+fell in and doors and walls gave off peculiar sounds as they grew full
+of holes. Above the riot rattled the incessant crack of Colt's and
+Winchester, emphasized at close intervals by the assertive roar of
+buffalo guns. Off to the south came another rumble of hoofs and Mr.
+Connors, leading the second squad,--arrived to participate in the
+payment of the debt.
+
+Smoke spurted from windows and other points of vantage and hung wavering
+in the heated air. The shattering of woodwork told of heavy slugs
+finding their rest, and the whines that grew and diminished in the air
+sang the course of .45s.
+
+While the fight raged hottest Mr. Nelson sprang from his horse and ran
+to the “Palace,” where he collected and piled a heap of tinder like
+wood, and soon the building burst out in flames, which, spreading, swept
+the town from end to end.
+
+Mr. Cassidy fired slowly and seemed to be waiting for something. Mr.
+Connors laid aside his hot Winchester and devoted his attention to his
+Colts. A spurt of flame and smoke leaped from the window of a 'dobe
+hut and Mr. Connors sat down, firing as he went. A howl from the window
+informed him that he had made a hit, and Mr. Cassidy ran out and dragged
+him to the shelter of a near-by bowlder and asked how much he was hurt.
+
+“Not much--in the calf,” grunted Mr. Connors. “He was a bad shot--must
+have been the cuss that got away yesterday,” speculated the injured
+man as he slowly arose to his feet. Mr. Cassidy dissented from force of
+habit and returned to his station. Mr. Travennes, who was sleeping
+late that morning, coughed and fought for air in his sleep, awakened in
+smoke, rubbed his eyes to make sure and, scorning trousers and shirt,
+ran clad in his red woolen undergarments to the corral, where he mounted
+his scared horse and rode for the desert and safety.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, swearing at the marksmanship of a man who fired at his head
+and perforated his sombrero, saw a crimson rider sweep down upon him,
+said rider being heralded by a blazing .44.
+
+“Gosh!” ejaculated Mr. Cassidy, scarcely believing his eyes. “Oh, it's
+my friend Slim going to hades,” he remarked to himself in audible and
+relieved explanation. Mr. Cassidy's Colts cracked a protest and then he
+joined Mr. Peters and the others and with them fought his way out of the
+flame-swept town of Cactus Springs.
+
+An hour later Mr. Connors glanced behind him at the smoke silhouetted on
+the horizon and pushed his way to where Mr. Cassidy rode in silence. Mr.
+Connors grinned at his friend of the red hair, who responded in the same
+manner.
+
+“Did yu see Slim?” Casually inquired Mr. Connors, looking off to the
+south.
+
+Mr. Cassidy sat upright in his saddle and felt of his Colts. “Yes,” he
+replied, “I saw him.”
+
+Mr. Connors thereupon galloped on in silence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. Rustlers on the Range
+
+
+The affair at Cactus Springs had more effect on the life at the Bar-20
+than was realized by the foreman. News travels rapidly, and certain
+men, whose attributes were not of the sweetest, heard of it and swore
+vengeance, for Slim Travennes had many friends, and the result of his
+passing began to show itself. Outlaws have as their strongest defense
+the fear which they inspire, and little time was lost in making
+reprisals, and these caused Buck Peters to ride into Buckskin one bright
+October morning and then out the other side of the town. Coming to
+himself with a start he looked around shamefacedly and retraced his
+course. He was very much troubled, for, as foreman of the Bar-20, he
+had many responsibilities, and when things ceased to go aright he was
+expected not only to find the cause of the evil, but also the remedy.
+That was what he was paid seventy dollars a month for and that was what
+he had been endeavoring to do. As yet, however, he had only accomplished
+what the meanest cook's assistant had done. He knew the cause of his
+present woes to be rustlers (cattle thieves), and that was all.
+
+Riding down the wide, quiet street, he stopped and dismounted before the
+ever-open door of a ramshackle, one-story frame building. Tossing the
+reins over the flattened ears of his vicious pinto he strode into the
+building and leaned easily against the bar, where he drummed with his
+fingers and sank into a reverie.
+
+A shining bald pate, bowed over an open box, turned around and
+revealed a florid face, set with two small, twinkling blue eyes, as the
+proprietor, wiping his hands on his trousers, made his way to Buck's end
+of the bar.
+
+“Mornin', Buck. How's things?”
+
+The foreman, lost in his reverie, continued to stare out the door.
+
+“Mornin',” repeated the man behind the bar. “How's things?”
+
+“Oh!” ejaculated the foreman, smiling, “purty cussed.”
+
+“Anything flew?”
+
+“Th' C-80 lost another herd last night.”
+
+His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, but
+the latter shook his head. “Not this mornin'--I'll try one of them vile
+cigars, however.”
+
+“Them cigars are th' very best that--” began the proprietor, executing
+the order.
+
+“Oh, heck!” exclaimed Buck with weary disgust. “Yu don't have to palaver
+none: I shore knows all that by heart.”
+
+“Them cigars--” repeated the proprietor.
+
+“Yas, yas; them cigars--I know all about them cigars. Yu gets them for
+twenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a hundred,”
+ replied the foreman, biting off the end 'of his weed. Then he stared
+moodily and frowned. “I wonder why it is?” He asked. “We punchers like
+good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What do we get? Why,
+cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol an' extract for
+our drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a sumptious layout, pays
+less an' gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one of them K. C. cigars yu'd
+shore have to ask what it was, an' as for the liquor, why, yu'd think
+St. Peter asked yu to have one with him. It's shore wrong somewhere.”
+
+“They have more trade in K. C.,” suggested the proprietor.
+
+“An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,
+mahogany an' French mirrors,” countered the foreman.
+
+“They have more trade,” reiterated the man with the cigars.
+
+“Forty men spend thirty dollars apiece with yu every month.” The
+proprietor busied himself under the bar. “Yu'll feel better to-morrow.
+Anyway, what do yu care, yu won't lose yore job,” he said, emerging.
+
+Buck looked at him and frowned, holding back the words which formed in
+anger. What was the use, he thought, when every man judged the world in
+his own way.
+
+“Have yu seen any of th' boys?” He asked, smiling again.
+
+“Nary a boy. Who do yu reckon's doin' all this rustlin'?”
+
+“I'm reckonin', not shoutin',” responded the foreman.
+
+The proprietor looked out the window and grinned: “Here comes one of
+yourn now.”
+
+The newcomer stopped his horse in a cloud of dust, playfully kicked the
+animal in the ribs and entered, dusting the alkali from him with a huge
+sombrero. Then he straightened up and sniffed: “What's burnin'?” he
+asked, simulating alarm. Then he noticed the cigar between the teeth of
+his foreman and grinned: “Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck.”
+
+“Hullo, Hopalong,” said the foreman. “Want a smoke?” Waving his hand
+toward the box on the bar.
+
+Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette: “Shore,
+but I'll burn my own--I know what it is.”
+
+“What was yu doin' to my cayuse afore yu come in?” Asked Buck.
+
+“Nothin',” replied the newcomer. “That was mine what I kicked in th'
+corrugations.”
+
+“How is it yore ridin' the calico?” Asked the foreman. “I thought yu was
+dead stuck on that piebald.”
+
+“That piebald's a goat; he's beein livin' off my pants lately,”
+ responded Hopalong. “Every time I looks th' other way he ambles over and
+takes a bite at me. Yu just wait 'til this rustler business is roped,
+an' branded, an' yu'll see me eddicate that blessed scrapheap into
+eatin' grass again.” He swiped Billy's shirt th' other day--took it right
+off th' corral wall, where Billy's left it to dry. Then, seeing Buck
+raise his eyebrows, he explained: “Shore, he washed it again. That makes
+three times since last fall.”
+
+The proprietor laughed and pushed out the ever-ready bottle, but
+Hopalong shoved it aside and told the reason: “Ever since I was up to K.
+C. I've been spoiled. I'm drinkin' water an' slush.”
+
+“For Pete's sake, has any more of yu fellers been up to K. C.?” queried
+the proprietor in alarm.
+
+“Shore: Red an' Billy was up there, too.” responded Hopalong. “Red's got
+a few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer. Yu better send for
+some decent stuff afore he comes to town,” he warned.
+
+Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar. Then he
+turned to Hopalong. “What did you find?” He asked.
+
+“Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain--then nothin'.”
+
+“It shore beats me,” soliloquized the foreman. “It shore beats me.”
+
+“Think it was Tamale Jose's old gang?” Asked Hopalong.
+
+“If it was they took th' wrong trail home--that ain't th' way to Mexico.”
+
+Hopalong tossed aside his half-smoked cigarette. “Well, come on home;
+what's th' use stewin' over it? It'll come out all O.K. in th' wash.”
+ Then he laughed: “There won't be no piebald waitin' for it.”
+
+Evading Buck's playful blow he led the way to the door, and soon
+they were a cloud of dust on the plain. The proprietor, despairing of
+customers under the circumstances, absent-mindedly wiped oil on the bar,
+and sought his chair for a nap, grumbling about the way his trade had
+fallen off, for there were few customers, and those who did call were
+heavy with loss of sleep, and with anxiety, and only paused long enough
+to toss off their drink. On the ranges there were occurrences which
+tried men's souls.
+
+For several weeks cattle had been disappearing from the ranges and the
+losses had long since passed the magnitude of those suffered when Tamale
+Jose and his men had crossed the Rio Grande and repeatedly levied heavy
+toll on the sleek herds of the Pecos Valley. Tamale Jose had raided once
+too often, and prosperity and plenty had followed on the ranches and the
+losses had been forgotten until the fall round-ups clearly showed that
+rustlers were again at work.
+
+Despite the ingenuity of the ranch owners and the unceasing vigilance
+and night rides of the cow-punchers, the losses steadily increased until
+there was promised a shortage which would permit no drive to the western
+terminals of the railroad that year. For two weeks the banks of the Rio
+Grande had been patrolled and sharp-eyed men searched daily for trails
+leading southward, for it was not strange to think that the old raiders
+were again at work, notwithstanding the fact that they had paid dearly
+for their former depredations.
+
+The patrols failed to discover anything out of the ordinary and the
+searchers found no trails. Then it was that the owners and foremen of
+the four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon and sat closeted together
+for all of one hot afternoon.
+
+The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the ranches
+represented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode north, his
+destination being far-away Montana. All the ranches within a radius of
+a hundred miles received letters and blanks and one week later the Pecos
+Valley Cattle-Thief Elimination Association was organized and working,
+with Buck as Chief Ranger.
+
+One of the outcomes of Buck's appointment was a sudden and marked
+immigration into the affected territory. Mr. Connors returned from
+Montana with Mr. Frenchy McAllister, the foreman of the Tin-Cup, who was
+accompanied by six of his best and most trusted men. Mr. McAllister and
+party were followed by Mr. You-bet Somes, foreman of the Two-X-Two of
+Arizona, and five of his punchers, and later on the same day Mr. Pie
+Willis, accompanied by Mr. Billy Jordan and his two brothers, arrived
+from the Panhandle. The O-Bar-O, situated close to the town of Muddy
+Wells, increased its payroll by the addition of nine men, each of whom
+bore the written recommendation of the foreman of the Bar-20. The C-80,
+Double Arrow and the Three Triangle also received heavy reinforcements,
+and even Carter, owner of the Barred Horseshoe, far removed from the
+zone of the depredations, increased his outfits by half their regular
+strength.
+
+Buck believed that if a thing was worth doing at all that it was worth
+doing very well, and his acquaintances were numerous and loyal. The
+collection of individuals that responded to the call were noteworthy
+examples of “gun-play” and their aggregate value was at par with twice
+their numbers in cavalry.
+
+
+Each ranch had one large ranch-house and numerous line-houses scattered
+along the boundaries. These latter, while intended as camps for the
+outriders, had been erected in the days, none too remote, when Apaches,
+Arrapahoes, and even Cheyennes raided southward, and they had been
+constructed with the idea of defense paramount. Upon more than one
+occasion a solitary line-rider had retreated within their adobe walls
+and had successfully resisted all the cunning and ferocity of a score
+of paint-bedaubed warriors and, when his outfit had rescued him, emerged
+none the worse for his ordeal.
+
+On the Bar-20, Buck placed these houses in condition to withstand seige.
+Twin barrels of water stood in opposite corners, provisions were stored
+on the hanging shelves and the bunks once again reveled in untidiness.
+Spare rifles, in pattern ranging from long-range Sharp's and buffalo
+guns to repeating rifles, leaned against the walls, and unbroken boxes
+of cartridges were piled above the bunks. Instead of the lonesome
+outrider, he placed four men to each house, two of whom were to remain
+at home and hold the house while their companions rode side by side on
+their multi-mile beat.
+
+There were six of these houses and, instead of returning each night to
+the same line-house, the outriders kept on and made the circuit,
+thus keeping every one well informed and breaking the monotony. These
+measures were expected to cause the rustling operations to cease at
+once, but the effect was to shift the losses to the Double Arrow, the
+line-houses of which boasted only one puncher each. Unreasonable economy
+usually defeats its object.
+
+The Double Arrow was restricted on the north by the Staked Plain, which
+in itself was considered a superb defense. The White Sand Hills formed
+its eastern boundary and were thought to be second only to the northern
+protection. The only reason that could be given for the hitherto
+comparative immunity from the attacks of the rustlers was that its
+cattle clung to the southern confines where there were numerous springs,
+thus making imperative the crossing of its territory to gain the herds.
+
+It was in line-house No. 3, most remote of all, that Johnny Redmond
+fought his last fight and was found face down in the half ruined house
+with a hole in the back of his head, which proved that one man was
+incapable of watching all the loop holes in four walls at once. There
+must have been some casualties on the other side, for Johnny was reputed
+to be very painstaking in his “gunplay,” and the empty shells which lay
+scattered on the floor did not stand for as many ciphers, of that his
+foreman was positive.
+
+He was buried the day he was found, and the news of his death ran
+quickly from ranch to ranch and made more than one careless puncher
+arise and pace the floor in anger. More men came to the Double Arrow and
+its sentries were doubled. The depredations continued, however, and
+one night a week later Frank Swift reeled into the ranch-house and fell
+exhausted across the supper table. Rolling hoof-beats echoed flatly
+and died away on the plain, but the men who pursued them returned empty
+handed. The wounds of the unfortunate were roughly dressed and in his
+delirium he recounted the fight. His companion was found literally shot
+to pieces twenty paces from the door. One wall was found blown in, and
+this episode, when coupled with the use of dynamite, was more than could
+be tolerated.
+
+When Buck had been informed of this he called to him Hopalong Cassidy,
+Red Connors and Frenchy McAllister, and the next day the three men rode
+north and the contingents of the ranches represented in the Association
+were divided into two squads, one of which was to remain at home and
+guard the ranches; the other, to sleep fully dressed and armed and never
+to stray far from their ranch-houses and horses. These latter would be
+called upon to ride swiftly and far when the word came.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Trendley Assumes Added Importance
+
+
+That the rustlers were working under a well organized system was
+evident. That they were directed by a master of the game was ceaselessly
+beaten into the consciousness of the Association by the diversity, dash
+and success of their raids. No one, save the three men whom they had
+destroyed, had ever seen them. But, like Tamale Jose, they had raided
+once too often.
+
+Mr. Trendley, more familiarly known to men as “Slippery,” was the
+possessor of a biased conscience, if any at all. Tall, gaunt and
+weather-beaten and with coal-black eyes set deep beneath hairless
+eyebrows, he was sinister and forbidding. Into his forty-five years of
+existence he had crowded a century of experience, and unsavory rumors
+about him existed in all parts of the great West. From Canada to Mexico
+and from Sacramento to Westport his name stood for brigandage. His
+operations had been conducted with such consummate cleverness that in
+all the accusations there was lacking proof.
+
+Only once had he erred, and then in the spirit of pure deviltry and in
+the days of youthful folly, and his mistake was a written note. He
+was even thought by some to have been concerned in the Mountain Meadow
+Massacre; others thought him to have been the leader of the band of
+outlaws that had plundered along the Santa Fe Trail in the late '60's.
+In Montana and Wyoming he was held responsible for the outrages of the
+band that had descended from the Hole-in-the-Wall territory and for over
+a hundred miles carried murder and theft that shamed as being weak the
+most assiduous efforts of zealous Cheyennes. It was in this last raid
+that he had made the mistake and it was in this raid that Frenchy
+McAllister had lost his wife.
+
+When Frenchy had first been approached by Buck as to his going in search
+of the rustlers he had asked to go alone. This had been denied by the
+foreman of the Bar-20 because the men whom he had selected to accompany
+the scout were of such caliber that their presence could not possibly
+form a hindrance. Besides being his most trusted friends they were
+regarded by him as being the two best exponents of “gun-play” that the
+West afforded. Each was a specialist: Hopalong, expert beyond belief
+with his Colt's six-shooters, was only approached by Red, whose
+Winchester was renowned for its accuracy. The three made a perfect
+combination, as the rashness of the two younger men would be under the
+controlling influence of a man who could retain his coolness of mind
+under all circumstances.
+
+When Buck and Frenchy looked into each other's eyes there sprang into
+the mind of each the same name--Slippery Trendley. Both had spent the
+greater part of a year in fruitless search for that person, the foreman
+of the Tin-Cup in vengeance for the murder of his wife, the blasting of
+his prospects and the loss of his herds; Buck, out of sympathy for his
+friend and also because they had been partners in the Double Y. Now that
+the years had passed and the long-sought-for opportunity was believed
+to be at hand, there was promised either a cessation of the outrages or
+that Buck would never again see his friends.
+
+When the three mounted and came to him for final instructions Buck
+forced himself to be almost repellent in order to be capable of coherent
+speech. Hopalong glanced sharply at him and then understood, Red was all
+attention and eagerness and remarked nothing but the words.
+
+“Have yu ever heard of Slippery Trendley?” Harshly inquired the foreman.
+
+They nodded, and on the faces of the younger men a glint of hatred
+showed itself, but Frenchy wore his poker countenance.
+
+Buck continued: “Th' reason I asked yu was because I don't want yu to
+think yore goin' on no picnic. I ain't shore it's him, but I've had
+some hopeful information. Besides, he is th' only man I knows of who's
+capable of th' plays that have been made. It's hardly necessary for me
+to tell yu to sleep with one eye open and never to get away from yore
+guns. Now I'm goin' to tell yu th' hardest part: yu are goin' to search
+th' Staked Plain from one end to th' other, an' that's what no white
+man's ever done to my knowledge.
+
+“Now, listen to this an' don't forget it. Twenty miles north from Last
+Stand Rock is a spring; ten miles south of that bend in Hell Arroyo is
+another. If yu gets lost within two days from th' time yu enters th'
+Plain, put yore left hand on a cactus sometime between sun-up an'
+noon, move around until yu are over its shadow an' then ride straight
+ahead--that's south. If you goes loco beyond Last Stand Rock, follow th'
+shadows made before noon--that's th' quickest way to th' Pecos. Yu all
+knows what to do in a sand-storm, so I won't bore you with that. Repeat
+all I've told yu,” he ordered and they complied.
+
+“I'm tellin' yu this,” continued the foreman, indicating the two
+auxiliaries, “because yu might get separated from Frenchy. Now I
+suggests that yu look around near the' Devils Rocks: I've heard that
+there are several water holes among them, an' besides, they might be
+turned into fair corrals. Mind yu, I know what I've said sounds damned
+idiotic for anybody that has had as much experience with th' Staked
+Plain as I have, but I've had every other place searched for miles
+around. Th' men of all th' ranches have been scoutin' an' th' Plain is
+th' only place left. Them rustlers has got to be found if we have to dig
+to hell for them. They've taken th' pot so many times that they reckons
+they owns it, an' we've got to at least make a bluff at drawin' cards.
+Mebby they're at th' bottom of th' Pecos,” here he smiled faintly, “but
+wherever they are, we've got to find them. I want to holler 'Keno.”
+
+“If you finds where they hangs out come away instanter,” here his face
+hardened and his eyes narrowed, “for it'll take more than yu three
+to deal with them th' way I'm a-hankerin' for. Come right back to th'
+Double Arrow, send me word by one of their punchers an' get all the rest
+you can afore I gets there. It'll take me a day to get th' men together
+an' to reach yu. I'm goin' to use smoke signals to call th' other
+ranches, so there won't be no time lost. Carry all th' water yu can pack
+when yu leaves th' Double Arrow an' don't depend none on cactus juice.
+Yu better take a pack horse to carry it, an' yore grub--yu can shoot it
+if yu have to hit th' trail real hard.”
+
+The three riders felt of their accouterments, said “So long,” and
+cantered off for the pack horse and extra ammunition. Then they rode
+toward the Double Arrow, stopping at Cowan's long enough to spend some
+money, and reached the Double Arrow at nightfall. Early the next morning
+they passed the last line-house and, with the profane well-wishes of
+its occupants ringing in their ears, passed onto one of Nature's worst
+blunders--the Staked Plain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. The Search Begins
+
+
+As the sun arose it revealed three punchers riding away from
+civilization. On all sides, stretching to the evil-appearing horizon,
+lay vast blotches of dirty-white and faded yellow alkali and sand.
+Occasionally a dwarfed mesquite raised its prickly leaves and rustled
+mournfully. With the exception of the riders and an occasional Gila
+monster, no life was discernible. Cacti of all shapes and sizes reared
+aloft their forbidding spines or spread out along the sand. All was
+dead, ghastly; all was oppressive, startlingly repellent in its sinister
+promise; all was the vastness of desolation.
+
+Hopalong knew this portion of the desert for ten miles inward--he had
+rescued straying cattle along its southern rim--but once beyond that
+limit they would have to trust to chance and their own abilities. There
+were water holes on this skillet, but nine out of ten were death traps,
+reeking with mineral poisons, colored and alkaline. The two mentioned by
+Buck could not be depended on, for they came and went, and more than one
+luckless wanderer had depended on them to allay his thirst, and had died
+for his trust.
+
+So the scouts rode on in silence, noting the half-buried skeletons of
+cattle which were strewn plentifully on all sides. Nearly three per
+cent, of the cattle belonging to the Double Arrow yearly found death
+on this tableland, and the herds of that ranch numbered many thousand
+heads. It was this which made the Double Arrow the poorest of the
+ranches, and it was this which allowed insufficient sentries in its
+line-houses. The skeletons were not all of cattle, for at rare intervals
+lay the sand-worn frames of men.
+
+On the morning of the second day the oppression increased with the wind
+and Red heaved a sigh of restlessness. The sand began to skip across the
+plain, in grains at first and hardly noticeable. Hopalong turned in his
+saddle and regarded the desert with apprehension. As he looked he
+saw that where grains had shifted handfuls were now moving. His mount
+evinced signs of uneasiness and was hard to control.
+
+A gust of wind, stronger than the others, pricked his face and grains
+of sand rolled down his neck. The leather of his saddle emitted strange
+noises as if a fairy tattoo was being beaten upon it and he raised his
+hand and pointed off toward the east. The others looked and saw what had
+appeared to be a fog rise out of the desert and intervene between them
+and the sun. As far as eye could reach small whirlwinds formed and broke
+and one swept down and covered them with stinging sand. The day became
+darkened and their horses whinnied in terror and the clumps of mesquite
+twisted and turned to the gusts.
+
+Each man knew what was to come upon them and they dismounted, hobbled
+their horses and threw them bodily to the earth, wrapping a blanket
+around the head of each. A rustling as of paper rubbing together became
+noticeable and they threw themselves flat upon the earth, their heads
+wrapped in their coats and buried in the necks of their mounts. For
+an hour they endured the tortures of hell and then, when the storm had
+passed, raised their heads and cursed Creation. Their bodies burned
+as though they had been shot with fine needles and their clothes were
+meshes where once was tough cloth. Even their shoes were perforated and
+the throat of each ached with thirst.
+
+Hopalong fumbled at the canteen resting on his hip and gargled his mouth
+and throat, washing down the sand which wouldn't come up. His friends
+did likewise and then looked around. After some time had elapsed the
+loss of their pack horse was noticed and they swore again. Hopalong took
+the lead in getting his horse ready for service and then rode around in
+a circle half a mile in diameter, but returned empty handed. The horse
+was gone and with it went their main supply of food and drink.
+
+Frenchy scowled at the shadow of a cactus and slowly rode toward the
+northeast, followed closely by his friends. His hand reached for his
+depleted canteen, but refrained--water was to be saved until the last
+minute.
+
+“I'm goin' to build a shack out here an' live in it, I am!” exploded
+Hopalong in withering irony as he dug the sand out of his ears and also
+from his sixshooter. “I just nachurally dotes on this, I do!”
+
+The others were too miserable to even grunt and he neatly severed the
+head of a Gila monster from its scaly body as it opened it venomous jaws
+in rage at this invasion of its territory. “Lovely place!” he sneered.
+
+“You better save them cartridges, Hoppy,” interposed Red as his
+companion fired again, feeling that he must say something.
+
+“An' what for?” blazed his friend. “To plug sand storms? Anybody what we
+find on this God-forsaken lay-out won't have to be shot--they will commit
+suicide an' think it's fun! Tell yu what, if them rustlers hangs out on
+this sand range they're better men than I reckons they are. Anybody what
+hides up here shore earns all he steals.” Hopalong grumbled from force
+of habit and because no one else would. His companions understood this
+and paid no attention to him, which increased his disgust.
+
+“What are we up here for?” He asked, belligerently. “Why, because them
+Double Arrow idiots can't even watch a desert! We have to do their work
+for them an' they hangs around home an' gets slaughtered! Yes, sir!”
+ he shouted, “they can't even take care of themselves when they're in
+line-houses what are forts. Why, that time we cleaned out them an' th'
+C-80 over at Buckskin they couldn't help runnin' into singin' lead!”
+
+“Yes,” drawled Red, whose recollection of that fight was vivid. “Yas,
+an' why?” He asked, and then replied to his own question. “Because yu
+sat up in a barn behind them, Buck played his gun on th' side window,
+Pete an' Skinny lay behind a rock to one side of Buck, me an' Lanky
+was across th' Street in front of them, an' Billy an' Johnny was in th'
+arroyo on th' other side. Cowan laid on his stummick on th' roof of his
+place with a buffalo gun, an' the whole blamed town was agin them. There
+wasn't five seconds passed that lead wasn't rippin' through th' walls
+of their shack. Th' Houston House wasn't made for no fort, an' besides,
+they wasn't like th' gang that's punchin' now. That's why.”
+
+Hopalong became cheerful again, for here was a chance to differ from his
+friend. The two loved each other the better the more they squabbled.
+
+“Yas!” responded Hopalong with sarcasm. “Yas!” he reiterated, drawling
+it out. “Yu was in front of them, an' with what? Why, an' old,
+white-haired, interfering Winchester, that's what! Me an' my Sharp's--”
+
+“Yu and yore Sharp's!” exploded Red, whose dislike for that rifle was
+very pronounced. “Yu and yore Sharp's.”
+
+“Me an' my Sharp's, as I was palaverin' before bein' interrupted,”
+ continued Hopalong, “did more damage in five min--”
+
+“Says yu!” snapped Red with heat. “All yu an yore Sharp's could do was
+to cut yore initials in th' back door of their shack, an'----”
+
+“Did more damage in five minutes,” continued Hopalong, “than all th'
+blasted Winchesters in th' whole damned town. Why--”
+
+“An' then they was cut blamed poor. Every time that cannon of yourn
+exploded I shore thought th'--”
+
+“Why, Cowan an' his buffalo did more damage (Cowan was reputed to be a
+very poor shot) than yu an--”
+
+“I thought th' artillery was comin' into th' disturbance. I could see
+yore red head--”
+
+“MY red head!” exclaimed Hopalong, sizing up the crimson warlock of his
+companion. “MY red head!” he repeated, and then turned to Frenchy: “Hey,
+Frenchy, who's got th' reddest hair, me or Red?”
+
+Frenchy slowly turned in his saddle and gravely scrutinized them.
+Being strictly impartial and truthful, he gave up the effort of
+differentiating and smiled. “Why, if the tops of yore heads were poked
+through two holes in a board an' I didn't know which was which, I'd
+shore make a mistake if I tried to name 'em”
+
+But Red had the last word. “Anyhow, you didn't have a Sharp's in that
+fight--you had a .45-70 Winchester, just like mine!”
+
+Thereupon the discussion was directed at the judge, and the forenoon
+passed very pleasantly, Frenchy even smiling in his misery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. Hopalong's Decision
+
+
+Shortly after noon, Hopalong, who had ridden with his head bowed low in
+meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh. Then he looked at Red and
+grinned.
+
+“Look ahere, Red,” he began, “there ain't no rustlers with their
+headquarters on this God-forsaken sand heap, an' there never was. They
+have to have water an' lots of it, too, an' th' nearest of any account
+is th' Pecos, or some of them streams over in th' Panhandle. Th'
+Panhandle is th' best place. There are lots of streams an' lakes over
+there an' they're right in a good grass country. Why, an' army could
+hide over there an' never be found unless it was hunted for blamed good.
+Then, again, it's close to the railroad. Up north aways is th' south
+branch of th' Santa Fe Trail an' it's far enough away not to bother
+anybody in th' middle Panhandle. Then there's Fort Worth purty near,
+an' other trails. Didn't Buck say he had all th' rest of th' country
+searched? He meant th' Pecos Valley an th' Davis Mountains country. All
+th' rustlers would have to do if they were in th' Panhandle would be to
+cross th' Canadian an th' Cimarron an' hit th' trail for th' railroad.
+Good fords, good grass an' water all th' way, cattle fat when they
+are delivered an plenty of room. Th' more I thinks about it th' more I
+cottons to the Panhandle.”
+
+“Well, it shore does sound good,” replied Red, reflectively.
+
+“Do yu mean th' Cunningham Lake region or farther north?”
+
+“Just th' other side of this blasted desert: anywhere where there's
+water,” responded Hopalong, enthusiastically. “I've been doin' some hot
+reckonin' for th' last two hours an' this is th' way it looks to me:
+they drives th' cows up on this skillet for a ways, then turns east an'
+hits th' trail for home an' water. They can get around th' ca on near
+Thatcher's Lake by a swing of th' north. I tell yu that's th' only way
+out'n this. Who could tell where they turned with th' wind raisin' th'
+deuce with the trail? Didn't we follow a trail for a ways, an' then
+what? Why, there wasn't none to follow. We can ride north 'till we walk
+behind ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I am in favor of headin'
+for th' Sulphur Spring Creek district. We can spend a couple of weeks,
+if we has to, an' prospect that whole region without havin' to cut
+our' water down to a smell an' a taste an live on jerked beef. If we
+investigates that country we'll find something else than sand storms,
+poisoned water holes an' blisters.”
+
+“Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?” Inquired Red,
+doubtfully.
+
+“Along th' Canadian an' th' edges, yas; in th' middle, no,” explained
+Hopalong. “They hang close together on account of th' war-whoops, an'
+they like th' trails purty well because of there allus bein' somebody
+passin'.”
+
+“Buck ought to send some of th' Panhandle boys up there,” suggested Red.
+“There's Pie Willis an' th' Jordans--they knows th' Panhandle like yu
+knows poker.”
+
+Frenchy had paid no apparent attention to the conversation up to this
+point, but now he declared himself. “Yu heard what Buck said, didn't
+yu?” He asked. “We were told to search th' Staked Plains from one end to
+th' other an' I'm goin' to do it if I can hold out long enough. I ain't
+goin' to palaver with yu because what yu say can't be denied as far as
+wisdom is concerned. Yu may have hit it plumb center, but I knows what
+I was ordered to do, an' yu can't get me to go over there if you shouts
+all night. When Buck says anything, she goes. He wants to know where th'
+cards are stacked an' why he can't holler 'Keno,' an' I'm goin' to find
+out if I can. Yu can go to Patagonia if yu wants to, but yu go alone as
+far as I am concerned.”
+
+“Well, it's better if yu don't go with us,” replied Hopalong, taking it
+for granted that Red would accompany him. “Yu can prospect this end of
+th' game an' we'll be takin' care of th' other. It's two chances now
+where we only had one afore.”
+
+“Yu go east an' I'll hunt around as ordered,” responded Frenchy.
+
+“East nothin',” replied Hopalong. “Yu don't get me to wallow in hot
+alkali an' lose time ridin' in ankle-deep sand when I can hit th' south
+trail, skirt th' White Sand Hills an' be in God's country again. I ain't
+goin' to wrastle with no ca on this here trip, none whatever. I'm goin'
+to travel in style, get to Big Spring by ridin' two miles to where I
+could only make one on this stove. Then I'll head north along Sulpher
+Spring Creek an' have water an' grass all th' way, barrin' a few
+stretches. While you are bein' fricasseed I'll be streakin' through
+cottonwood groves an' ridin' in the creek.”
+
+“Yu'll have to go alone, then,” said Red, resolutely. “Frenchy ain't
+a-goin' to die of lonesomeness on this desert if I knows what I'm about,
+an' I reckon I do, some. Me an' him'll follow out what Buck said, hunt
+around for a while an' then Frenchy can go back to th' ranch to tell
+Buck what's up an' I'll take th' trail yu are a-scared of an' meet yu at
+th' east end of Cunningham Lake three days from now.”
+
+“Yu better come with me,” coaxed Hopalong, not liking what his friend
+had said about being afraid of the trail past the ca on and wishing to
+have some one with whom to talk on his trip. “I'm goin' to have a nice
+long swim to-morrow night,” he added, trying bribery.
+
+“An' I'm goin' to try to keep from hittin' my blisters,” responded Red.
+“I don't want to go swimmin' in no creek full of moccasins--I'd rather
+sleep with rattlers or copperheads. Every time I sees a cotton-mouth I
+feels like I had just sit down on one.
+
+“I'll flip a coin to see whether yu comes or not,” proposed Hopalong.
+
+“If yu wants to gamble so bad I'll flip yu to see who draws our pay
+next month, but not for what you said,” responded Red, choking down the
+desire to try his luck.
+
+Hopalong grinned and turned toward the south. “If I sees Buck afore yu
+do, I'll tell him yu an' Frenchy are growin' watermelons up near Last
+Stand Rock an' are waitin' for rain. Well, so long,” he said.
+
+“Yu tell Buck we're obeyin' orders!” shouted Red, sorry that he was not
+going with his bunkie.
+
+Frenchy and Red rode on in silence, the latter feeling strangely
+lonesome, for he and the departed man had seldom been separated when
+journeys like this were to be taken. And when in search of pleasure they
+were nearly always together. Frenchy, while being very friendly with
+Hopalong, a friendship that would have placed them side by side against
+any odds, was not accustomed to his company and did not notice his
+absence.
+
+Red looked off toward the south for the tenth time and for the tenth
+time thought that his friend might return. “He's a son-of-a-gun,” he
+soliloquized.
+
+His companion looked up: “He shore is, an' he's right about this rustler
+business, too. But we'll look around for a day or so an' then yu raise
+dust for th' Lake. I'll go back to th' ranch an' get things primed, so
+there'll be no time lost when we get th' word.”
+
+“I'm sorry I went an' said what I did about me takin' th' trail he was
+a-scared of,” confessed Red, after a pause. “Why, he ain't a-scared of
+nothin'.”
+
+“He got back at yu about them watermelons, so what's th' difference?”
+ Asked Frenchy. “He don't owe yu nothin'.”
+
+An hour later they searched the Devil's Rocks, but found no rustlers.
+Filling their canteens at a tiny spring and allowing their mounts to
+drink the remainder of the water, they turned toward Hell Arroyo, which
+they reached at nightfall. Here, also, their search availed them nothing
+and they paused in indecision. Then Frenchy turned toward his companion
+and advised him to ride toward the Lake in the night when it was
+comparatively cool.
+
+Red considered and then decided that the advice was good. He rolled a
+cigarette, wheeled and faced the east and spurred forward: “So long,” he
+called.
+
+“So long,” replied Frenchy, who turned toward the south and departed for
+the ranch.
+
+The foreman of the Bar-20 was cleaning his rifle when he heard the
+hoof-beats of a galloping horse and he ran around the corner of the
+house to meet the newcomer, whom he thought to be a courier from the
+Double Arrow. Frenchy dismounted and explained why he returned alone.
+
+Buck listened to the report and then, noting the fire which gleamed in
+his friend's eyes, nodded his approval to the course. “I reckon it's
+Trendley, Frenchy--I've heard a few things since yu left. An' yu can
+bet that if Hopalong an' Red have gone for him he'll be found. I expect
+action any time now, so we'll light th' signal fire.” Then he hesitated;
+“Yu light it--yu've been waiting a long time for this.”
+
+The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other balls
+at different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to feed the
+numbers of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next twenty-four
+hours.
+
+Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three
+Triangle, followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O. The
+outfits of the Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all,
+came next and had scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the
+Double Arrow, fretting at the delay, rode up. With the sixteen from
+the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious
+cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. A Problem Solved
+
+
+Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus
+cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He
+camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his
+journey. It was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an
+hour later he passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow.
+Half an hour later he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad. Thinking
+that an investigation would not be out of place, he rode after the rider
+and overtook him, when that person paused and retraced his course.
+
+“Hullo, Hopalong!” shouted the puncher and he came near enough to
+recognize his pursuer. “Thought yu was farmin' up on th' Staked Plain?”
+
+“Hullo, Pie,” replied Hopalong, recognizing Pie Willis. “What was yu
+chasin' so hard?”
+
+“Coyote--damn 'em, but can't they go some? They're gettin' so thick we'll
+shore have to try strichnine an' thin 'em out.”
+
+“I thought anybody that had been raised in th' Panhandle would know
+better'n to chase greased lightnin',” rebuked Hopalong. “Yu has got
+about as much show catchin' one of them as a tenderfoot has of bustin'
+an outlawed cayuse.”
+
+“Shore; I know it,” responded Pie, grinning. “But it's fun seem'
+them hunt th' horizon. What are yu doin' down here an' where are yore
+pardners?”
+
+Thereupon Hopalong enlightened his inquisitive companion as to what had
+occurred and as to his reasons for riding south.
+
+Pie immediately became enthusiastic and announced his intention
+of accompanying Hopalong on his quest, which intention struck that
+gentleman as highly proper and wise. Then Pie hastily turned and
+played at chasing coyotes in the direction of the line-house, where he
+announced that his absence would be accounted for by the fact that
+he and Hopalong were going on a journey of investigation into the
+Panhandle. Billy Jordan who shared with Pie the accommodations of the
+house, objected and showed, very clearly, why he was eminently better
+qualified to take up the proposed labors than his companions. The
+suggestions were fast getting tangled up with the remarks, when Pie,
+grabbing a chunk of jerked beef, leaped into his saddle and absolutely
+refused to heed the calls of his former companion and return. He rode to
+where Hopalong was awaiting him as if he was afraid he wasn't going to
+live long enough to get there. Confiding to his companion that Billy
+was a “locoed sage hen,” he led the way along the base of the White Sand
+Hills and asked many questions. Then they turned toward the east and
+galloped hard.
+
+It had been Hopalong's intention to carry out what he had told Red and
+to go to Big Spring first and thence north along Sulphur Spring Creek,
+but to this his guide strongly dissented. There was a short cut, or
+several of them for that matter, was Pie's contention, and any one
+of them would save a day's hard riding. Hopalong made no objection to
+allowing his companion to lead the way over any trail he saw fit, for
+he knew that Pie had been born and brought up in the Panhandle, the
+Cunningham Lake district having been his back yard, as it were. So they
+followed the short cut having the most water and grass, and pounded out
+a lively tattoo as they raced over the stretches of sand which seemed to
+slide beneath them.
+
+“What do yu know about this here business?” Inquired Pie, as they raced
+past a chaparral and onto the edge of a grassy plain.
+
+“Nothin' more'n yu do, only Buck said he thought Slippery Trendley is at
+th' bottom of it.”
+
+“What!” ejaculated Pie in surprise. “Him!”
+
+“Yore on. An' between yu an' me an' th' Devil, I wouldn't be a heap
+surprised if Deacon Rankin is with him, neither.”
+
+Pie whistled: “Are him an' th' Deacon pals?”
+
+“Shore,” replied Hopalong, buttoning up his vest and rolling a
+cigarette. “Didn't they allus hang out together! One watched that
+th' other didn't get plugged from behind. It was a sort of
+yu-scratch-my-back-an'-I'll-scratch-yourn arrangement.”
+
+“Well, if they still hangs out together, I know where to hunt for our
+cows,” responded Pie. “Th' Deacon used to range along th' headwaters
+of th' Colorado--it ain't far from Cunningham Lake. Thunderation!” he
+shouted, “I knows th' very ground they're on--I can take yu to th' very
+shack!” Then to himself he muttered: “An' that doodlebug Billy Jordan
+thinkin' he knowed more about th' Panhandle than me!”
+
+Hopalong showed his elation in an appropriate manner and his companion
+drank deeply from the proffered flask; Thereupon they treated their
+mounts to liberal doses of strap-oil and covered the ground with great
+speed.
+
+They camped early, for Hopalong was almost worn out from the exertions
+of the past few days and the loss of sleep he had sustained. Pie,
+too excited to sleep and having had unbroken rest for a long period,
+volunteered to keep guard, and his companion eagerly consented.
+
+Early the next morning they broke camp and the evening of the same day
+found them fording Sulphur Spring Creek, and their quarry lay only an
+hour beyond, according to Pie. Then they forded one of the streams which
+form the headwaters of the Colorado, and two hours later they dismounted
+in a cottonwood grove. Picketing their horses, they carefully made their
+way through the timber, which was heavily grown with brush, and, after
+half an hour's maneuvering, came within sight of the further edge.
+
+Dropping down on all fours, they crawled to the last line of brush and
+looked out over an extensive bottoms. At their feet lay a small river,
+and in a clearing on the farther side was a rough camp, consisting of
+about a dozen leanto shacks and log cabins in the main collection, and a
+few scattered cabins along the edge. A huge fire was blazing before
+the main collection of huts, and to the rear of these was an indistinct
+black mass, which they knew to be the corral.
+
+At a rude table before the fire more than a score of men were eating
+supper and others could be heard moving about and talking at different
+points in the background. While the two scouts were learning the lay of
+the land, they saw Mr. Trendley and Deacon Rankin walk out of the cabin
+most distant from the fire, and the latter limped. Then they saw two men
+lying on rude cots, and they wore bandages. Evidently Johnny Redmond had
+scored in his fight.
+
+The odor of burning cowhide came from the corral, accompanied by the
+squeals of cattle, and informed them that brands were being blotted out.
+Hopalong longed to charge down and do some blotting out of another kind,
+but a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder and he silently wormed his
+way after Pie as that person led the way back to the horses. Mounting,
+they picked their way out of the grove and rode over the plain at a
+walk. When far enough away to insure that the noise made by their horses
+would not reach the ears of those in the camp they cantered toward the
+ford they had taken on the way up.
+
+After emerging from the waters of the last forded stream, Pie raised his
+hand and pointed off toward the northwest, telling his companion to
+take that course to reach Cunningham Lake. He himself would ride south,
+taking, for the saving of time, a yet shorter trail to the Double Arrow,
+from where he would ride to Buck. He and the others would meet Hopalong
+and Red at the split rock they had noticed on their way up.
+
+Hopalong shook hands with his guide and watched him disappear into the
+night. He imagined he could still catch whiffs of burning cowhide and
+again the picture of the camp came to his mind. Glancing again at the
+point where Pie had disappeared, he stuffed his sombrero under a strap
+on his saddle and slowly rode toward the lake. A coyote slunk past him
+on a time-destroying lope and an owl hooted at the foolishness of
+men. He camped at the base of a cottonwood and at daylight took up his
+journey after a scanty breakfast from his saddle-bags.
+
+Shortly before noon he came in sight of the lake and looked for his
+friend. He had just ridden around a clump of cotton-woods when he was
+hit on the back with something large and soft. Turning in his saddle,
+with his Colts ready, he saw Red sitting on a stump, a huge grin
+extending over his features. He replaced the weapon, said something
+about fools and dismounted, kicking aside the bundle of grass his friend
+had thrown.
+
+“Yore shore easy,” remarked Red, tossing aside his cold cigarette.
+“Suppose I was Trendley, where would yu be now?”
+
+“Diggin' a hole to put yu in,” pleasantly replied Hopalong. “If I didn't
+know he wasn't around this part of the country I wouldn't a rode as I
+did.”
+
+The man on the stump laughed and rolled a fresh cigarette. Lighting it,
+he inquired where Mr. Trendley was, intimating by his words that the
+rustler had not been found.
+
+“About thirty miles to th' southeast,” responded the other. “He's
+figurin' up how much dust he'll have when he gets our cows on th'
+market. Deacon Rankin is with him, too.”
+
+“Th' deuce!” exclaimed Red, in profound astonishment.
+
+“Yore right,” replied his companion. Then he explained all the
+arrangements and told of the camp.
+
+Red was for riding to the rendezvous at once, but his friend thought
+otherwise and proposed a swim, which met with approval. After enjoying
+themselves in the lake they dressed and rode along the trail Hopalong
+had made in coming for his companion, it being the intention of
+the former to learn more thoroughly the lay of the land immediately
+surrounding the camp. Red was pleased with this, and while they rode
+he narrated all that had taken place since the separation on the Plain,
+adding that he had found the trail left by the rustlers after they had
+quitted the desert and that he had followed it for the last two hours of
+his journey. It was well beaten and an eighth of a mile wide.
+
+At dark they came within sight of the grove and picketed their horses at
+the place used by Pie and Hopalong. Then they moved forward and the same
+sight greeted their eyes that had been seen the night before. Keeping
+well within the edge of the grove and looking carefully for sentries,
+they went entirely around the camp and picked out several places which
+would be of strategic value later on. They noticed that the cabin used
+by Slippery Trendley was a hundred paces from the main collection of
+huts and that the woods came to within a tenth part of that distance
+of its door. It was heavily built, had no windows and faced the wrong
+direction.
+
+Moving on, they discovered the storehouse of the enemy, another tempting
+place. It was just possible, if a siege became necessary, for several
+of the attacking force to slip up to it and either destroy it by fire
+or take it and hold it against all comers. This suggested a look at the
+enemy's water supply, which was the river. A hundred paces separated it
+from the nearest cabin and any rustler who could cross that zone under
+the fire of the besiegers would be welcome to his drink.
+
+It was very evident that the rustlers had no thought of defense,
+thinking, perhaps, that they were immune from attack with such a well
+covered trail between them and their foes. Hopalong mentally accused
+them of harboring suicidal inclinations and returned with his companion
+to the horses. They mounted and sat quietly for a while, and then rode
+slowly away and at dawn reached the split rock, where they awaited the
+arrival of their friends, one sleeping while the other kept guard. Then
+they drew a rough map of the camp, using the sand for paper, and laid
+out the plan of attack.
+
+As the evening of the next day came on they saw Pie, followed by many
+punchers, ride over a rise a mile to the south and they rode out to meet
+him.
+
+When the force arrived at the camp of the two scouts they were shown the
+plan prepared for them. Buck made a few changes in the disposition of
+the men and then each member was shown where he was to go and was told
+why. Weapons were put in a high state of efficiency, canteens were
+refilled and haversacks were somewhat depleted. Then the newcomers
+turned in and slept while Hopalong and Red kept guard.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. The Call
+
+
+At three o'clock the next morning a long line of men slowly filed
+into the cottonwood grove, being silently swallowed up by the dark.
+Dismounting, they left their horses in the care of three of their number
+and disappeared into the brush. Ten minutes later forty of the force
+were distributed along the edge of the grove fringing on the bank of the
+river and twenty more minutes gave ample time for a detachment of twenty
+to cross the stream and find concealment in the edge of the woods which
+ran from the river to where the corral made an effective barrier on the
+south.
+
+Eight crept down on the western side of the camp and worked their way
+close to Mr. Trendley's cabin door, and the seven who followed this
+detachment continued and took up their positions at the rear of the
+corral, where, it was hoped, some of the rustlers would endeavor to
+escape into the woods by working their way through the cattle in the
+corral and then scaling the stockade wall. These seven were from the
+Three Triangle and the Double Arrow, and they were positive that any
+such attempt would not be a success from the view-point of the rustlers.
+
+Two of those who awaited the pleasure of Mr. Trendley crept forward, and
+a rope swished through the air and settled over the stump which lay most
+convenient on the other side of the cabin door. Then the slack moved
+toward the woods, raised from the ground as it grew taut and, with
+the stump for its axis, swung toward the door, where it rubbed gently
+against the rough logs. It was made of braided horsehair, was half an
+inch in diameter and was stretched eight inches above the ground.
+
+As it touched the door, Lanky Smith, Hopalong and Red stepped out of the
+shelter of the woods and took up their positions behind the cabin, Lanky
+behind the northeast corner where he would be permitted to swing his
+right arm. In his gloved right hand he held the carefully arranged coils
+of a fifty-foot lariat, and should the chief of the rustlers escape
+tripping he would have to avoid the cast of the best roper in the
+southwest.
+
+The two others took the northwest corner and one of them leaned slightly
+forward and gently twitched the tripping-rope. The man at the other end
+felt the signal and whispered to a companion, who quietly disappeared in
+the direction of the river and shortly afterward the mournful cry of a
+whip-poor-will dirged out on the early morning air. It had hardly died
+away when the quiet was broken by one terrific crash of rifles, and the
+two camp guards asleep at the fire awoke in another world.
+
+Mr. Trendley, sleeping unusually well for the unjust, leaped from his
+bed to the middle of the floor and alighted on his feet and wide
+awake. Fearing that a plot was being consummated to deprive him of his
+leadership, he grasped the Winchester which leaned at the head of his
+bed and, tearing open the door, crashed headlong to the earth. As he
+touched the ground, two shadows sped out from the shelter of the cabin
+wall and pounced upon him. Men who can rope, throw and tie a wild steer
+in thirty seconds flat do not waste time in trussing operations, and
+before a minute had elapsed he was being carried into the woods,
+bound and helpless. Lanky sighed, threw the rope over one shoulder and
+departed after his friends.
+
+When Mr. Trendley came to his senses he found himself bound to a tree in
+the grove near the horses. A man sat on a stump not far from him, three
+others were seated around a small fire some distance to the north, and
+four others, one of whom carried a rope, made their way into the brush.
+He strained at his bonds, decided that the effort was useless and
+watched the man on the stump, who struck a match and lit a pipe. The
+prisoner watched the light flicker up and go out and there was left in
+his mind a picture that he could never forget. The face which had been
+so cruelly, so grotesquely revealed was that of Frenchy McAllister, and
+across his knees lay a heavy caliber Winchester. A curse escaped from
+the lips of the outlaw; the man on the stump spat at a firefly and
+smiled.
+
+From the south came the crack of rifles, incessant and sharp. The
+reports rolled from one end of the clearing to the other and seemed to
+sweep in waves from the center of the line to the ends. Faintly in the
+infrequent lulls in the firing came an occasional report from the rear
+of the corral, where some desperate rustler paid for his venture.
+
+Buck went along the line and spoke to the riflemen, and after some time
+had passed and the light had become stronger, he collected the men into
+groups of five and six. Taking one group and watching it closely, it
+could be seen that there was a world of meaning in this maneuver. One
+man started firing at a particular window in an opposite hut and then
+laid aside his empty gun and waited. When the muzzle of his enemy's gun
+came into sight and lowered until it had nearly gained its sight level,
+the rifles of the remainder of the group crashed out in a volley and
+usually one of the bullets, at least, found its intended billet. This
+volley firing became universal among the besiegers and the effect was
+marked.
+
+Two men sprinted from the edge of the woods near Mr. Trendley's cabin
+and gained the shelter of the storehouse, which soon broke out in
+flames. The burning brands fell over the main collection of huts, where
+there was much confusion and swearing. The early hour at which the
+attack had been delivered at first led the besieged to believe that
+it was an Indian affair, but this impression was soon corrected by the
+volley firing, which turned hope into despair. It was no great matter
+to fight Indians, that they had done many times and found more or less
+enjoyment in it; but there was a vast difference between brave and
+puncher, and the chances of their salvation became very small. They
+surmised that it was the work of the cow-men on whom they had preyed
+and that vengeful punchers lay hidden behind that death-fringe of green
+willow and hazel.
+
+Red, assisted by his inseparable companion, Hopalong, laboriously
+climbed up among the branches of a black walnut and hooked one leg over
+a convenient limb. Then he lowered his rope and drew up the Winchester
+which his accommodating friend fastened to it. Settling himself in a
+comfortable position and sheltering his body somewhat by the tree, he
+shaded his eyes by a hand and peered into the windows of the distant
+cabins.
+
+“How is she, Red?” Anxiously inquired the man on the ground.
+
+“Bully: want to come up?”
+
+“Nope. I'm goin' to catch yu when yu lets go,” replied Hopalong with a
+grin.
+
+“Which same I ain't goin' to,” responded the man in the tree.
+
+He swung his rifle out over a forked limb and let it settle in the
+crotch. Then he slew his head around until he gained the bead he wished.
+Five minutes passed before he caught sight of his man and then he fired.
+Jerking out the empty shell he smiled and called out to his friend:
+“One.”
+
+Hopalong grinned and went off to tell Buck to put all the men in trees.
+
+Night came on and still the firing continued. Then an explosion shook
+the woods. The storehouse had blown up and a sky full of burning timber
+fell on the cabins and soon three were half consumed, their occupants
+dropping as they gained the open air. One hundred paces makes fine
+pot-shooting, as Deacon Rankin discovered when evacuation was the choice
+necessary to avoid cremation. He never moved after he touched the ground
+and Red called out: “Two,” not knowing that his companion had departed.
+
+The morning of the next day found a wearied and hopeless garrison, and
+shortly before noon a soiled white shirt was flung from a window in the
+nearest cabin. Buck ran along the line and ordered the firing to cease
+and caused to be raised an answering flag of truce. A full minute
+passed and then the door slowly opened and a leg protruded, more slowly
+followed by the rest of the man, and Cheyenne Charley strode out to
+the bank of the river and sat down. His example was followed by several
+others and then an unexpected event occurred. Those in the cabins who
+preferred to die fighting, angered at this desertion, opened fire on
+their former comrades, who barely escaped by rolling down the slightly
+inclined bank into the river. Red fired again and laughed to himself.
+Then the fugitives swam down the river and landed under the guns of the
+last squad. They were taken to the rear and, after being bound, were
+placed under a guard. There were seven in the party and they looked worn
+out.
+
+When the huts were burning the fiercest the uproar in the corral arose
+to such a pitch as to drown all other sounds. There were left within its
+walls a few hundred cattle whose brands had not yet been blotted out,
+and these, maddened to frenzy by the shooting and the flames, tore from
+one end of the enclosure to the other, crashing against the alternate
+walls with a noise which could be heard far out on the plain. Scores
+were trampled to death on each charge and finally the uproar subsided
+in sheer want of cattle left with energy enough to continue. When the
+corral was investigated the next day there were found the bodies of four
+rustlers, but recognition was impossible.
+
+Several of the defenders were housed in cabins having windows in the
+rear walls, which the occupants considered fortunate. This opinion
+was revised, however, after several had endeavored to escape by these
+openings. The first thing that occurred when a man put his head out was
+the hum of a bullet, and in two cases the experimenters lost all need of
+escape.
+
+The volley firing had the desired effect, and at dusk there remained
+only one cabin from which came opposition. Such a fire was concentrated
+on it that before an hour had passed the door fell in and the firing
+ceased. There was a rush from the side, and the Barred Horseshoe men
+who swarmed through the cabins emerged without firing a shot. The
+organization that had stirred up the Pecos Valley ranches had ceased to
+exist.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. The Showdown
+
+
+A fire burned briskly in front of Mr. Trendley's cabin that night and
+several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways. Two men leaned
+against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and the range.
+One of them, Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, sang in his sweet tenor, and
+other men gradually strolled up and seated themselves on the ground,
+where the fitful gleam of responsive pipes and cigarettes showed like
+fireflies. The songs followed one after another, first a lover's plea in
+soft Spanish and then a rollicking tale of the cow-towns and men. Supper
+had long since been enjoyed and all felt that life was, indeed, well
+worth living.
+
+A shadow loomed against the cabin wall and a procession slowly made its
+way toward the open door. The leader, Hopalong, disappeared within and
+was followed by Mr. Trendley, bound and hobbled and tied to Red, the
+rear being brought up by Frenchy, whose rifle lolled easily in the
+crotch of his elbow. The singing went on uninterrupted and the hum of
+voices between the selections remained unchanged. Buck left the crowd
+around the fire and went into the cabin, where his voice was heard
+assenting to something. Hopalong emerged and took a seat at the fire,
+sending two punchers to take his place. He was joined by Frenchy and
+Red, the former very quiet.
+
+In the center of a distant group were seven men who were not armed.
+Their belts, half full of cartridges, supported empty holsters. They sat
+and talked to the men around them, swapping notes and experiences, and
+in several instances found former friends and acquaintances. These men
+were not bound and were apparently members of Buck's force. Then one of
+them broke down, but quickly regained his nerve and proposed a game
+of cards. A fire was started and several games were immediately in
+progress. These seven men were to die at daybreak.
+
+As the night grew older man after man rolled himself in his blanket
+and lay down where he sat, sinking off to sleep with a swiftness that
+bespoke tired muscles and weariness. All through the night, however,
+there were twelve men on guard, of whom three were in the cabin.
+
+At daybreak a shot from one of the guards awakened every man within
+hearing, and soon they romped and scampered down to the river's edge
+to indulge in the luxury of a morning plunge. After an hour's horseplay
+they trooped back to the cabin and soon had breakfast out of the way.
+
+Waffles, foreman of the O-Bar-O, and You-bet Somes strolled over to the
+seven unfortunates who had just completed a choking breakfast and nodded
+a hearty “Good morning.” Then others came up and finally all moved off
+toward the river. Crossing it, they disappeared into the grove and all
+sounds of their advance grew into silence.
+
+Mr. Trendley, escorted outside for the air, saw the procession as it
+became lost to sight in the brush. He sneered and asked for a smoke,
+which was granted. Then his guards were changed and the men began to
+straggle back from the grove.
+
+Mr. Trendley, with his back to the cabin, scowled defiantly at the crowd
+that hemmed him in. The coolest, most damnable murderer in the West was
+not now going to beg for mercy. When he had taken up crime as a means
+of livelihood he had decided that if the price to be paid for his course
+was death, he would pay like a man. He glanced at the cottonwood grove,
+wherein were many ghastly secrets, and smiled. His hairless eyebrows
+looked like livid scars and his lips quivered in scorn and anger.
+
+As he sneered at Buck there was a movement in the crowd before him and a
+pathway opened for Frenchy, who stepped forward slowly and deliberately,
+as if on his way to some bar for a drink. There was something different
+about the man who had searched the Staked Plain with Hopalong and Red:
+he was not the same puncher who had arrived from Montana three weeks
+before. There was lacking a certain air of carelessness and he chilled
+his friends, who looked upon him as if they had never really known him.
+He walked up to Mr. Trendley and gazed deeply into the evil eyes.
+
+Twenty years before, Frenchy McAllister had changed his identity from
+a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care cow-puncher and became a machine. The
+grief that had torn his soul was not of the kind which seeks its outlet
+in tears and wailing; it had turned and struck inward, and now his
+deliberate ferocity was icy and devilish. Only a glint in his eyes told
+of exultation, and his words were sharp and incisive; one could well
+imagine one heard the click of his teeth as they bit off the consonants:
+every letter was clear-cut, every syllable startling in its clearness.
+
+“Twenty years and two months ago to-day,” he began, “you arrived at the
+ranchhouse of the Double Y, up near the Montana-Wyoming line. Everything
+was quiet, except, perhaps, a woman's voice, singing. You entered, and
+before you left you pinned a note to that woman's dress. I found it, and
+it is due.”
+
+The air of carelessness disappeared from the members of the crowd and
+the silence became oppressive. Most of those present knew parts of
+Frenchy's story, and all were in hearty accord with anything he might
+do. He reached within his vest and brought forth a deerskin bag. Opening
+it, he drew out a package of oiled silk and from that he took a paper.
+Carefully replacing the silk and the bag, he slowly unfolded the sheet
+in his hand and handed it to Buck, whose face hardened. Two decades had
+passed since the foreman of the Bar-20 had seen that precious sheet, but
+the scene of its finding would never fade from his memory. He stood as
+if carved from stone, with a look on his face that made the crowd shift
+uneasily and glance at Trendley.
+
+Frenchy turned to the rustler and regarded him evilly. “You are the
+hellish brute that wrote that note,” pointing to the paper in the hand
+of his friend. Then, turning again, he spoke: “Buck, read that paper.”
+
+The foreman cleared his throat and read distinctly:
+
+
+“McAllister: Yore wife is too blame good to live.
+
+                                         TRENDLEY.”
+
+
+There was a shuffling sound, but Buck and Frenchy, silently backed up by
+Hopalong and Red, intervened, and the crowd fell back, where it surged
+in indecision.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Frenchy, “I want you to vote on whether any man here
+has more right to do with Slippery Trendley as he sees fit than myself.
+Any one who thinks so, or that he should be treated like the others,
+step forward. Majority rules.”
+
+There was no advance and he spoke again: “Is there any one here who
+objects to this man dying?”
+
+Hopalong and Red awkwardly bumped their knuckles against their guns and
+there was no response.
+
+The prisoner was bound with cowhide to the wall of the cabin and four
+men sat near and facing him. The noonday meal was eaten in silence, and
+the punchers rode off to see about rounding up the cattle that grazed
+over the plain as far as eye could see. Supper-time came and passed,
+and busy men rode away in all directions. Others came and relieved the
+guards, and at midnight another squad took up the vigil.
+
+Day broke and the thunder of hoofs as the punchers rounded up the cattle
+became very noticeable. One herd swept past toward the south, guarded
+and guided by fifteen men. Two hours later and another followed, taking
+a slightly different trail so as to avoid the close-cropped grass left
+by the first. At irregular intervals during the day other herds swept
+by, until six had passed and denuded the plain of cattle.
+
+Buck, perspiring and dusty, accompanied by Hopalong and Red, rode up
+to where the guards smoked and joked. Frenchy came out of the cabin
+and smiled at his friends. Swinging in his left hand was a newly filled
+Colt's .45, which was recognized by his friends as the one found in the
+cabin and it bore a rough “T” gouged in the butt.
+
+Buck looked around and cleared his throat: “We've got th' cows on th'
+home trail, Frenchy,” he suggested.
+
+“Yas?” Inquired Frenchy. “Are there many?”
+
+“Yas,” replied Buck, waving his hand at the guards, ordering them to
+follow their friends. “It's a good deal for us: we've done right smart
+this hand. An' it's a good thing we've got so many punchers: we got a
+lot of cattle to drive.”
+
+“About five times th' size of th' herd that blamed near made angels
+out'en me an' yu,” responded Frenchy with a smile.
+
+“I hope almighty hard that we don't have no stampedes on this here
+drive. If th' last herds go wild they'll pick up th' others, an' then
+there'll be th' devil to pay.”
+
+Frenchy smiled again and shot a glance at where Mr. Trendley was bound
+to the cabin wall.
+
+Buck looked steadily southward for some time and then flecked a foam-sud
+from the flank of his horse. “We are goin' south along th' Creek until
+we gets to Big Spring, where we'll turn right smart to th' west. We
+won't be able to average more'n twelve miles a day, 'though I'm goin' to
+drive them hard. How's yore grub?”
+
+“Grub to burn.”
+
+“Got yore rope?” Asked the foreman of the Bar-20, speaking as if the
+question had no especial meaning.
+
+Frenchy smiled: “Yes.”
+
+Hopalong absent-mindedly jabbed his spurs into his mount with the result
+that when the storm had subsided the spell was broken and he said “So
+long,” and rode south, followed by Buck and Red. As they swept out of
+sight behind a grove Red turned in his saddle and waved his hat. Buck
+discussed with assiduity the prospects of a rainfall and was very
+cheerful about the recovery of the stolen cattle. Red could see a tall,
+broad-shouldered man standing with his feet spread far apart, swinging a
+Colt's .45, and Hopalong swore at everything under the sun. Dust arose in
+streaming clouds far to the south and they spurred forward to overtake
+the outfits.
+
+Buck Peters, riding over the starlit plain, in his desire to reach the
+first herd, which slept somewhere to the west of him under the care
+of Waffles, thought of the events of the past few weeks and gradually
+became lost in the memories of twenty years before, which crowded up
+before his mind like the notes of a half-forgotten song. His nature,
+tempered by two decades of a harsh existence, softened as he lived again
+the years that had passed and as he thought of the things which had
+been. He was so completely lost in his reverie that he failed to hear
+the muffled hoofbeats of a horse that steadily gained upon him, and when
+Frenchy McAllister placed a friendly hand on his shoulder he started as
+if from a deep sleep.
+
+The two looked at each other and their hands met. The question which
+sprang into Buck's eyes found a silent answer in those of his friend.
+They rode on side by side through the clear night and together drifted
+back to the days of the Double Y.
+
+After an hour had passed, the foreman of the Bar-20 turned to his
+companion and then hesitated:
+
+“Did, did--was he a cur?”
+
+Frenchy looked off toward the south and, after an interval, replied:
+“Yas.” Then, as an after thought, he added, “Yu see, he never reckoned
+it would be that way.”
+
+Buck nodded, although he did not fully understand, and the subject was
+forever closed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. Mr. Cassidy Meets a Woman
+
+
+The work of separating the cattle into herds of the different brands
+was not a big contract, and with so many men it took but a comparatively
+short time, and in two days all signs of the rustlers had faded. It was
+then that good news went the rounds and the men looked forward to a
+week of pleasure, which was all the sharper accentuated by the grim
+mercilessness of the expedition into the Panhandle. Here was a chance
+for unlimited hilarity and a whole week in which to give strict
+attention to celebrating the recent victory.
+
+So one day Mr. Hopalong Cassidy rode rapidly over the plain, thinking
+about the joys and excitement promised by the carnival to be held
+at Muddy Wells. With that rivalry so common to Western towns the
+inhabitants maintained that the carnival was to break all records, this
+because it was to be held in their town. Perry's Bend and Buckskin had
+each promoted a similar affair, and if this year's festivities were
+to be an improvement on those which had gone before, they would
+most certainly be worth riding miles to see. Perry's Bend had been
+unfortunate m being the first to hold a carnival, inasmuch as it only
+set a mark to be improved upon, and Buckskin had taken advantage of this
+and had added a brass band, and now in turn was to be eclipsed.
+
+The events slated were numerous and varied, the most important being
+those which dealt directly with the everyday occupations of the
+inhabitants of that section of the country. Broncho busting,
+steer-roping and tying, rifle and revolver shooting, trick riding and
+fancy roping made up the main features of the programme and were to
+be set off by horse and foot racing and other county fair necessities.
+Altogether, the proud citizens of the town looked forward with keen
+anticipation to the coming excitements, and were prone to swagger a
+bit and to rub their hands in condescending egoism, while the crowded
+gambling halls and saloons, and the three-card-monte men on the street
+corners enriched themselves at the cost of venturesome know-it-ails.
+
+Hopalong was firmly convinced that his day of hard riding was well worth
+while, for the Bar-20 was to be represented in strength. Probably
+a clearer insight into his idea of a carnival can be gained by his
+definition, grouchily expressed to Red Connors on the day following the
+last affair: “Raise cain, go broke, wake up an' begin punching cows
+all over again.” But that was the day after and the day after is always
+filled with remorse.
+
+Hopalong and Red, having twice in succession won the revolver and rifle
+competitions, respectively, hoped to make it 'Three straight.' Lanky
+Smith, the Bar-20 rope expert, had taken first prize in the only contest
+he had entered. Skinny Thompson had lost and drawn with Lefty Allen, of
+the O-Bar-O, in the broncho-busting event, but as Skinny had improved
+greatly in the interval, his friends confidently expected him to “yank
+first place” for the honor of his ranch. These expectations were backed
+with all the available Bar-20 money, and, if they were not realized,
+something in the nature of a calamity would swoop down upon and wrap
+that ranch in gloom. Since the O-Bar-O was aggressively optimistic the
+betting was at even money, hats and guns, and the losers would begin
+life anew so far as earthly possessions were concerned. No other
+competitors were considered in this event, as Skinny and Lefty had so
+far outclassed all others that the honor was believed to lie between
+these two.
+
+Hopalong, blissfully figuring out the chances of the different
+contestants, galloped around a clump of mesquite only fifteen miles from
+Muddy Wells and stiffened in his saddle, for twenty rods ahead of him on
+the trail was a woman. As she heard him approach she turned and waited
+for him to overtake her, and when she smiled he raised his sombrero and
+bowed.
+
+“Will you please tell me where I am?” She asked.
+
+“Yu are fifteen miles southeast of Muddy Wells,” he replied.
+
+“But which is southeast?”
+
+“Right behind yu,” he answered. “Th' town lies right ahead.”
+
+“Are you going there?” She asked.
+
+“Yes, ma'am.”
+
+“Then you will not care if I ride with you?” She asked. “I am a trifle
+frightened.”
+
+“Why, I'd be some pleased if yu do, 'though there ain't nothing out here
+to be afraid of now.”
+
+“I had no intention of getting lost,” she assured him, “but I dismounted
+to pick flowers and cactus leaves and after a while I had no conception
+of where I was.”
+
+“How is it yu are out here?” He asked. “Yu shouldn't get so far from
+town.”
+
+“Why, papa is an invalid and doesn't like to leave his room, and the
+town is so dull, although the carnival is waking it up somewhat. Having
+nothing to do I procured a horse and determined to explore the country.
+Why, this is like Stanley and Livingstone, isn't it? You rescued the
+explorer!” And she laughed heartily. He wondered who in thunder Stanley
+and Livingstone were, but said nothing.
+
+“I like the West, it is so big and free,” she continued. “But it is very
+monotonous at times, especially when compared with New York. Papa
+swears dreadfully at the hotel and declares that the food will drive him
+insane, but I notice that he eats much more heartily than he did when
+in the city. And the service!--it is awful. But when one leaves the town
+behind it is splendid, and I can appreciate it because I had such a hard
+season in the city last winter--so many balls, parties and theaters that
+I simply wore myself out.”
+
+“I never hankered much for them things,” Hopalong replied. “An' I don't
+like th' towns much, either. Once or twice a year I gets as far as
+Kansas City, but I soon tires of it an' hits th' back trail. Yu see, I
+don't like a fence country--I wants lots of room an' air.”
+
+She regarded him intently: “I know that you will think me very forward.”
+
+He smiled and slowly replied: “I think yu are all O. K.”
+
+“There do not appear to be many women in this country,” she suggested.
+
+“No, there ain't many,” he replied, thinking of the kind to be found
+in all of the cow-towns. “They don't seem to hanker for this kind of
+life--they wants parties an' lots of dancin' an' them kind of things. I
+reckon there ain't a whole lot to tempt em to come.
+
+“You evidently regard women as being very frivolous,” she replied.
+
+“Well, I'm speakin' from there not being any out here,” he responded,
+“although I don't know much about them, to tell th' truth. Them what are
+out here can't be counted.” Then he flushed and looked away.
+
+She ignored the remark and placed her hand to her hair:
+
+“Goodness! My hair must look terrible!”
+
+He turned and looked: “Yore hair is pretty--I allus did like brown hair.”
+
+She laughed and put back the straggling locks: “It is terrible! Just
+look at it! Isn't it awful?”
+
+“Why, no: I reckons not,” he replied critically. “It looks sort of free
+an' easy thataway.”
+
+“Well, it's no matter, it cannot be helped,” she laughed. “Let's race!”
+ she cried and was off like a shot.
+
+He humored her until he saw that her mount was getting unmanageable,
+when he quietly overtook her and closed her pony's nostrils with his
+hand, the operation having a most gratifying effect.
+
+“Joe hadn't oughter let yu had this cayuse,” he said.
+
+“Why, how do you know of whom I procured it?” She asked. “By th' brand:
+it's a O-Bar-O, canceled, with J. H. over it. He buys all of his cayuses
+from th' O-Bar-O.”
+
+She found out his name, and, after an interval of silence, she turned to
+him with eyes full of inquiry: “What is that thorny shrub just ahead?”
+ She asked.
+
+“That's mesquite,” he replied eagerly.
+
+“Tell me all about it,” she commanded.
+
+“Why, there ain't much to tell,” he replied, “only it's a valuable tree
+out here. Th' Apaches use it a whole lot of ways. They get honey from
+th' blossoms an' glue an' gum, an' they use th' bark for tannin' hide.
+Th' dried pods an' leaves are used to feed their cattle, an' th' wood
+makes corrals to keep 'em in. They use th' wood for making other things,
+too, an' it is of two colors. Th' sap makes a dye what won't wash out,
+an' th' beans make a bread what won't sour or get hard. Then it makes a
+barrier that shore is a dandy-coyotes an' men can't get through it, an'
+it protects a whole lot of birds an' things. Th' snakes hate it like
+poison, for th' thorns get under their scales an' whoops things up for
+'em. It keeps th' sand from shiftin', too. Down South where there is
+plenty of water, it often grows forty feet high, but up here it squats
+close to th' ground so it can save th' moisture. In th' night th'
+temperature sometimes falls thirty degrees, an' that helps it, too.”
+
+“How can it live without water?” She asked.
+
+“It gets all th' water it wants,” he replied, smiling. “Th' tap roots
+go straight down 'til they find it, sometimes fifty feet. That's why it
+don't shrivel up in th' sun. Then there are a lot of little roots right
+under it an' they protects th' tap roots. Th' shade it gives is th'
+coolest out here, for th' leaves turn with th' wind an' lets th' breeze
+through-they're hung on little stems.”
+
+“How splendid!” she exclaimed. “Oh! Look there!” she cried, pointing
+ahead of them. A chaparral cock strutted from its decapitated enemy, a
+rattlesnake, and disappeared in the chaparral.
+
+Hopalong laughed: “Mr. Scissors-bill Road-runner has great fun with
+snakes. He runs along th' sand-an' he can run, too--an' sees a snake
+takin' a siesta. Snip! goes his bill an' th' snake slides over th'
+Divide. Our fighting friend may stop some coyote's appetite before
+morning, though, unless he stays where he is.”
+
+Just then a gray wolf blundered in sight a few rods ahead of them, and
+Hopalong fired instantly. His companion shrunk from him and looked at
+him reproachfully.
+
+“Why did you do that!” she demanded.
+
+“Why, because they costs us big money every year,” he replied. “There's
+a bounty on them because they pull down calves, an' sometimes full grown
+cows. I'm shore wonderin' why he got so close--they're usually just out
+of range, where they stays.”
+
+“Promise me that you will shoot no more while I am with you.
+
+“Why, shore: I didn't think yu'd care,” he replied. “Yu are like that
+sky-pilot over to Las Cruces--he preached agin killin' things, which is
+all right for him, who didn't have no cows.”
+
+“Do you go to the missions?” She asked.
+
+He replied that he did, sometimes, but forgot to add that it was usually
+for the purpose of hilarity, for he regarded sky-pilots with humorous
+toleration.
+
+“Tell me all about yourself--what you do for enjoyment and all about your
+work,” she requested.
+
+He explained in minute detail the art of punching cows, and told her
+more of the West in half an hour than she could have learned from a
+year's experience. She showed such keen interest in his words that it
+was a pleasure to talk to her, and he monopolized the conversation until
+the town intruded its sprawling collection of unpainted shacks and adobe
+huts in their field of vision.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. The Strategy of Mr. Peters
+
+
+Hopalong and his companion rode into Muddy Wells at noon, and Red
+Connors, who leaned with Buck Peters against the side of Tom Lee's
+saloon, gasped his astonishment. Buck looked twice to be sure, and then
+muttered incredulously: “What th' heck!” Red repeated the phrase and
+retreated within the saloon, while Buck stood his ground, having
+had much experience with women, inasmuch as he had narrowly escaped
+marrying. He thought that he might as well get all the information
+possible, and waited for an introduction. It was in vain, however, for
+the two rode past without noticing him.
+
+Buck watched them turn the corner and then called for Red to come out,
+but that person, fearing an ordeal, made no reply and the foreman went
+in after him. The timorous one was corraling bracers at the bar and
+nearly swallowed down the wrong channel when Buck placed a heavy hand on
+his broad shoulder.
+
+“G'way!” remarked Red. “I don't want no introduction, none whatever,” he
+asserted. “G'way!” he repeated, backing off suspiciously.
+
+“Better wait 'til yu are asked,” suggested Buck. “Better wait 'til yu
+sees th' rope afore yu duck.” Then he laughed: “Yu bashful fellers make
+me plumb disgusted. Why, I've seen yu face a bunch of guns an never turn
+a hair, an' here yore all in because yu fear yu'll have to stand
+around an' hide yore hands. She won't bite yu. Anyway, from what I saw,
+Hopalong is due to be her grub--he never saw me at all, th' chump.”
+
+“He shore didn't see me, none,” replied Red with distinct relief. “Are
+they gone?”
+
+“Shore,” answered Buck. “An' if they wasn't they wouldn't see us, not
+if we stood in front of them an' yelled. She's a hummer-stands two hands
+under him an' is a whole lot prettier than that picture Cowan has got
+over his bar. There's nothing th' matter with his eyesight, but he's
+plumb locoed, all th' same. He'll go an' get stuck on her an' then
+she'll hit th' trail for home an' mamma, an' he won't be worth his feed
+for a year.” Then he paused in consternation: “Thunder, Red: he's got to
+shoot to-morrow!”
+
+“Well, suppose he has?” Responded Red. “I don't reckon she'll stampede
+his gun-play none.
+
+“Yu don't reckon, eh?” Queried Buck with much irony. “No, an' that's
+what's th' matter with yu. Why, do yu expect to see him to-morrow? Yu
+won't if I knows him an' I reckon I do. Nope, he'll be follerin' her all
+around.”
+
+“He's got sand to burn,” remarked Red in awe. “Wonder how he got to know
+her?”
+
+“Yu can gamble she did th' introducing part--he ain't got th' nerve to
+do it himself. He saved her life, or she thinks he did, or some romantic
+nonsense like that. So yu better go around an' get him away, an' keep
+him away, too.”
+
+“Who, me?” Inquired Red in indignation. “Me go around an' tote him off?
+I ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny.”
+
+“Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle
+of next week for it. He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself,”
+ responded Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
+
+“Hey, yu! Wait a minute!” cried Red in consternation. Buck paused and
+Red groped for an excuse: “Why don't you send Billy?” He blurted in
+desperation.
+
+The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his
+thigh in joy: “Good boy!” he laughed. “Billy's th' man--good Lord, but
+won't he give Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic
+soul to me.”
+
+Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, “Hey,
+Billy!” and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at
+his lack of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the
+accidental street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy
+steps and was trying to sing many songs at once.
+
+Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to
+starboard: “Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!” he exclaimed.
+
+Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his
+displeasure at this unwarranted action: “I ain't no wife-deserter!” he
+shouted. “Unrope me an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me!”
+ Then he recognized his friend and grinned joyously: “Shore I will, but
+only one. Jus' one more, jus' one more. Yu see, m'friend, it was all
+Jimmy's fault. He--”
+
+Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating
+friend to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.
+
+“This yere,” said Red in belligerent disgust, “is th' dod-blasted hero
+what's a-goin' to save Hopalong from a mournful future. What are we
+a-goin' to do?”
+
+Buck slipped the Colt's from Billy's holster and yanked the erring one
+to his feet: “Fill him full of sweet oil, source him in th' trough, walk
+him around for awhile an' see what it does,” he ordered.
+
+Two hours later Billy walked up to his foreman and weakly asked what was
+wanted. He looked as though he had just been released from a six-months'
+stay in a hospital.
+
+“Yu go over to th' hotel an' find Hopalong,” said the foreman sternly.
+“Stay with him all th' time, for there is a plot on foot to wing him on
+th' sly. If yu ain't mighty spry he'll be dead by night.”
+
+Having delivered the above instructions and prevarications, Buck
+throttled the laugh which threatened to injure him and scowled at Red,
+who again fled into the saloon for fear of spoiling it all with revealed
+mirth.
+
+The convalescent stared in open-mouthed astonishment:
+
+“What's he doin' in th' hotel, an' who's goin' to plug him?” He asked.
+
+“Yu leave that to me,” replied Buck, “All yu has to do is to get on th'
+job with yore gun,” handing the weapon to him, “an' freeze to him like
+a flea on a cow. Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't
+none of yore funeral--yu do what I said.”
+
+“Blast th' women!” exploded Billy, moving off. When he had entered the
+hotel Buck went in to Red.
+
+“For Pete's sake!” moaned that person in senseless reiteration. “Th'
+Lord help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!” he shouted. “Gimme a drink an' let me
+tell th' boys.”
+
+The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their
+uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them.
+
+Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring
+the desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6.
+Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and
+entered.
+
+He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young
+woman, and on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly
+white-whiskered gentleman who was reading a magazine. Billy felt like a
+criminal for a few seconds and then there came to him the thought that
+his was a mission of great import and he braced himself to face any
+ordeal. “Anyway,” he thought, “th' prettier they are th' more dust they
+can raise.”
+
+“What are yu doing here?” Cried Hopalong in amazement.
+
+“That's all right,” averred the protector, confidentially.
+
+“What's all right?”
+
+“Why, everything,” replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable.
+
+The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw
+the armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth. He felt for
+his spectacles, but did not need them, for he could see nothing but the
+Colt's which Billy jabbed at him.
+
+“None of that!” snapped Billy. “'ands up!” he ordered, and the hands went
+up so quick that when they stopped the jerk shook the room. Peering over
+the gentleman's leg, Billy saw the spectacles and backed to the wall
+as he apologized: “It's shore on me, Stranger--I reckoned yu was
+contemplatin' some gun-play.”
+
+Hopalong, blazing with wrath, arose and shoved Billy toward the hail,
+when Mr. Johnny Nelson, oozing fight and importance, intruded his person
+into the zone of action.
+
+“Lord!” ejaculated the newcomer, staring at the vision of female
+loveliness which so suddenly greeted him. “Mamma,” he added under his
+breath. Then he tore off his sombrero: “Come out of this, Billy, yu
+chump!” he exploded, backing toward the door, being followed by the
+protector.
+
+Hopalong slammed the door and turned to his hostess, apologizing for the
+disturbance.
+
+“Who are they?” Palpitated Miss Deane.
+
+“What the deuce are they doing up here!” blazed her father. Hopalong
+disclaimed any knowledge of them and just then Billy opened the door and
+looked in.
+
+“There he is again!” cried Miss Deane, and her father gasped. Hopalong
+ran out into the hall and narrowly missed kicking Billy into Kingdom
+Come as that person slid down the stairs, surprised and indignant.
+
+Mr. Billy Williams, who sat at the top of the stairs, was feeling hungry
+and thirsty when he saw his friend, Mr. Pete Wilson, the slow witted,
+approaching.
+
+“Hey, Pete,” he called, “come up here an' watch this door while I
+rustles some grub. Keep yore eyes open,” he cautioned.
+
+As Pete began to feel restless the door opened and a dignified gentleman
+with white whiskers came out into the hall and then retreated with great
+haste and no dignity. Pete got the drop on the door and waited. Hopalong
+yanked it open and kissed the muzzle of the weapon before he could stop,
+and Pete grinned.
+
+“Coming to th' fight?” He loudly asked. “It's going to be a shore 'nough
+sumptious scrap--just th' kind yu allus like. Come on, th' boys are
+waitin' for yu.”
+
+“Keep quiet!” hissed Hopalong.
+
+“What for?” Asked Pete in surprise. “Didn't yu say yu shore wanted to
+see that scrap?”
+
+“Shut yore face an' get scarce, or yu'll go home in cans!”
+
+As Hopalong seated himself once more Red strolled up to the door and
+knocked. Hopalong ripped it open and Red, looking as fierce and worried
+as he could, asked Hopalong if he was all right. Upon being assured by
+smoking adjectives that he was, the caller looked relieved and turned
+thoughtfully away.
+
+“Hey, yu! Come here!” called Hopalong.
+
+Red waved his hand and said that he had to meet a man and clattered
+down the stairs. Hopalong thought that he, also, had to meet a man and,
+excusing himself, hastened after his friend and overtook him in the
+Street, where he forced a confession. Returning to his hostess he told
+her of the whole outrage, and she was angry at first, but seeing the
+humorous side of it, she became convulsed with laughter. Her father
+re-read his paragraph for the thirteenth time and then, slamming the
+magazine on the floor, asked how many times he was expected to read ten
+lines before he knew what was in them, and went down to the bar.
+
+Miss Deane regarded her companion with laughing eyes and then became
+suddenly sober as he came toward her.
+
+“Go to your foreman and tell him that you will shoot to-morrow, for I
+will see that you do, and I will bring luck to the Bar-20. Be sure to
+call for me at one o'clock: I will be ready.”
+
+He hesitated, bowed, and slowly departed, making his way to Tom Lee's,
+where his entrance hushed the hilarity which had reigned. Striding
+to where Buck stood, he placed his hands on his hips and searched the
+foreman's eyes.
+
+Buck smiled: “Yu ain't mad, are yu?” He asked.
+
+Hopalong relaxed: “No, but blame near it.”
+
+Red and the others grabbed him from the rear, and when he had been
+“buffaloed” into good humor he threw them from him, laughed and waved
+his hand toward the bar:
+
+“Come up, yu sons-of-guns. Yore a cussed nuisance sometimes, but yore a
+bully gang all th' same.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
+
+
+Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a
+dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro
+and monte. The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was
+flush. This pleasing opulence was due to his business ability, for
+he had recently sold a claim for several thousand dollars. The first
+operation was simple, being known in Western phraseology as “jumping”;
+and the second, somewhat more complicated, was known as “salting.”
+
+The first of the money spent went for a complete new outfit, and he had
+parted with just three hundred and seventy dollars to feed his vanity.
+He desired something contrasty and he procured it. His sombrero, of gray
+felt a quarter of an inch thick, flaunted a band of black leather, on
+which was conspicuously displayed a solid silver buckle. His neck was
+protected by a crimson kerchief of the finest, heaviest silk. His shirt,
+in pattern the same as those commonly worn in the cow country, was of
+buckskin, soft as a baby's cheek and impervious to water, and the Angora
+goatskin chaps, with the long silken hair worn outside, were as white
+as snow. Around his waist ran loosely a broad, black leather belt
+supporting a heavy black holster, in which lay its walnut-handled
+burden, a .44 caliber six-shooter; and thirty center-fire cartridges
+peeked from their loops, fifteen on a side. His boots, the soles thin
+and narrow and the heels high, were black and of the finest leather.
+Huge spurs, having two-inch rowels, were held in place by buckskin
+straps, on which, also, were silver buckles. Protecting his hands were
+heavy buckskin gloves, also waterproof, having wide, black gauntlets.
+
+Each dainty hock of his dainty eight-hundred-pound buckskin pony was
+black, and a black star graced its forehead. Well groomed, with
+flowing mane and tail, and with the brand on its flank being almost
+imperceptible, the animal was far different in appearance from most of
+the cow-ponies. Vicious and high-spirited, it cavorted just enough to
+show its lines to the best advantage.
+
+
+The saddle, a famous Cheyenne and forty pounds in weight, was black,
+richly embossed, and decorated with bits of beaten silver which flashed
+back the sunlight. At the pommel hung a thirty-foot coil of braided
+horsehair rope, and at the rear was a Sharp's .50-caliber, breech-loading
+rifle, its owner having small use for any other make. The color of the
+bridle was the same as the saddle and it supported a heavy U bit which
+was capable of a leverage sufficient to break the animal's jaw.
+
+Tex was proud of his outfit, but his face wore a frown--not there only on
+acount of his losses, but also by reason of his mission, for under all
+his finery beat a heart as black as any in the cow country. For months
+he had smothered hot hatred and he was now on his way to ease himself of
+it.
+
+He and Slim Travennes had once exchanged shots with Hopalong in Santa
+Fe, and the month which he had spent in bed was not pleasing, and from
+that encounter had sprung the hatred. That he had been in the wrong made
+no difference with him. Some months later he had learned of the death
+of Slim, and it was due to the same man. That Slim had again been in
+the wrong also made no difference, for he realized the fact and nothing
+else.
+
+Lately he had been told of the death of Slippery Trendley and Deacon
+Rankin, and he accepted their passing as a personal affront. That they
+had been caught red-handed in cattle stealing of huge proportions and
+received only what was customary under the conditions formed no excuse
+in his mind for their passing. He was now on his way to attend the
+carnival at Muddy Wells, knowing that his enemy would be sure to be
+there.
+
+While passing through Las Cruces he met Porous Johnson and Silent Somes,
+who were thirsty and who proclaimed that fact, whereupon he relieved
+them of their torment and, looking forward to more treatment of a
+similar nature, they gladly accompanied him without asking why or where.
+
+As they left the town in their rear Tex turned in his saddle and
+surveyed them with a cynical smile.
+
+“Have yu heard anything of Trendley?” He asked.
+
+They shook their heads.
+
+“Him an' th' Deacon was killed over in th' Panhandle,” he said.
+
+“What!” chorused the pair.
+
+“Jack Dorman, Shorty Danvers, Charley Teale, Stiffhat Bailey, Billy
+Jackson, Terry Nolan an' Sailor Carson was lynched.”
+
+“What!” they shouted.
+
+“Fish O'Brien, Pinochle Schmidt, Tom Wilkins, Apache Gordon, Charley of
+th' Bar Y, Penobscot Hughes an' about twenty others died fightin'.”
+
+Porous looked his astonishment: “Cavalry?”
+
+“An' I'm going after th' dogs who did it,” he continued, ignoring the
+question. “Are yu with me?--Yu used to pal with some of them, didn't
+yu?”
+
+“We did, an' we're shore with yu!” cried Porous.
+
+“Yore right,” endorsed Silent. “But who done it?”
+
+“That gang what's punchin' for th' Bar-20-Hopalong Cassidy is th' one
+I'm pining for. Yu fellers can take care of Peters an' Connors.”
+
+The two stiffened and exchanged glances of uncertainty and apprehension.
+The outfit of the Bar-20 was too well known to cause exuberant joy to
+spring from the idea of war with it, and well in the center of all the
+tales concerning it were the persons Tex had named. To deliberately
+set forth with the avowed intention of planting these was not at all
+calculated to induce sweet dreams.
+
+Tex sneered his contempt.
+
+“Yore shore uneasy: yu ain't a-scared, are yu?” He drawled. Porous
+relaxed and made a show of subduing his horse: “I reckon I ain't scared
+plumb to death. Yu can deal me a hand,” he asserted.
+
+“I'll draw cards too,” hastily announced Silent, buttoning his vest.
+“Tell us about that jamboree over in th' Panhandle.”
+
+Tex repeated the story as he had heard it from a bibulous member of the
+Barred Horseshoe, and then added a little of torture as a sauce to whet
+their appetites for revenge.
+
+“How did Trendley cash in?” Asked Porous.
+
+“Nobody knows except that bum from th' Tin-Cup. I'll get him later. I'd
+a got Cassidy up in Santa Fe, too, if it wasn't for th' sun in my eyes.
+Me an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see nothing
+with him a-standin' against th' sun.”
+
+“Where's Slim now?” Asked Porous. “I ain't seen him for some time.”
+
+“Slim's with Trendley,” replied Tex. “Cassidy handed him over to St.
+Pete at Cactus Springs. Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an'
+his vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town
+plumb off th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own
+account. I'll prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long. It's
+cost me seventeen friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or
+make another.”
+
+They entered Muddy Wells at sunrise on the day of the carnival and,
+eating a hearty breakfast, sallied forth to do their share toward making
+the festivities a success.
+
+The first step considered necessary for the acquirement of case and
+polish was begun at the nearest bar, and Tex, being the host, was so
+liberal that his friends had reached a most auspicious state when they
+followed him to Tom Lee's.
+
+Tex was too wise to lose his head through drink and had taken only
+enough to make him careless of consequences. Porous was determined to
+sing “Annie Laurie,” although he hung on the last word of the first
+line until out of breath and then began anew. Silent, not wishing to be
+outdone, bawled at the top of his lungs a medley of music-hall words to
+the air of a hymn.
+
+Tex, walking as awkwardly as any cow-puncher, approached Tom Lee's, his
+two friends trailing erratically, arm in arm, in his rear. Swinging his
+arm he struck the door a resounding blow and entered, hand on gun, as it
+crashed back. Porous and Silent stood in the doorway and quarreled as
+to what each should drink and, compromising, lurched in and seated
+themselves on a table and resumed their vocal perpetrations.
+
+Tex swaggered over to the bar and tossed a quarter upon it: “Corn
+juice,” he laconically exclaimed. Tossing off the liquor and glancing
+at his howling friends, he shrugged his shoulders and strode out by the
+rear door, slamming it after him. Porous and Silent, recounting friends
+who had “cashed in” fell to weeping and they were thus occupied when
+Hopalong and Buck entered, closely followed by the rest of the outfit.
+
+Buck walked to the bar and was followed by Hopalong, who declined his
+foreman's offer to treat. Tom Lee set a bottle at Buck's elbow and
+placed his hands against the bar.
+
+“Friend of yourn just hit the back trail,” he remarked to Hopalong. “He
+was primed some for trouble, too,” he added.
+
+“Yaas?” Drawled Hopalong with little interest.
+
+The proprietor restacked the few glasses and wiped off the bar. “Them's
+his pardners,” he said, indicating the pair on the table.
+
+Hopalong turned his head and gravely scrutinized them. Porous was
+bemoaning the death of Slim Travennes and Hopalong frowned.
+
+“Don't reckon he's no relation of mine,” he grunted.
+
+“Well, he ain't yore sister,” replied Tom Lee, grinning.
+
+“What's his brand?” Asked the puncher.
+
+“I reckon he's a maverick, 'though yu put yore brand on him up to Santa
+Fe a couple of years back. Since he's throwed back on yore range I
+reckon he's yourn if yu wants him.”
+
+“I reckon Tex is some sore,” remarked Hopalong, rolling a cigarette.
+
+“I reckon he is,” replied the proprietor, tossing Buck's quarter in the
+cash box. “But, say, you should oughter see his rig.”
+
+“Yaas?”
+
+“He's shore a cow-punch dude--my, but he's some sumptious an'
+highfalutin'. An' bad? Why, he reckons th' Lord never brewed a more
+high-toned brand of cussedness than his'n. He shore reckons he's the
+baddest man that ever simmered.”
+
+“How'd he look as th' leadin' man in a necktie festival?” Blazed Johnny
+from across the room, feeling called upon to help the conversation.
+
+“He'd be a howlin' success, son,” replied Skinny Thompson, “judgin' by
+his friends what we elevated over in th' Panhandle.”
+
+Lanky Smith leaned forward with his elbow on the table, resting his chin
+in the palm of his hand: “Is Ewalt still a-layin' for yu, Hopalong?” He
+asked.
+
+Hopalong turned wearily and tossed his half-consumed cigarette into the
+box of sand which did duty as a cuspidore: “I reckon so; an' he shore
+can hatch whenever he gets good an ready, too.”
+
+“He's probably a-broodin' over past grievances,” offered Johnny, as
+he suddenly pushed Lanky's elbow from the table, nearly causing a
+catastrophe.
+
+“Yu'll be broodin' over present grievances if yu don't look out, yu
+everlastin' nuisance yu,” growled Lanky, planting his elbow in its
+former position with an emphasis which conveyed a warning.
+
+“These bantams ruflle my feathers,” remarked Red. “They go around
+braggin' about th' egg they're goin' to lay an' do enough cacklin'
+to furnish music for a dozen. Then when th' affair comes off yu'll
+generally find they's been settin' on a door-knob.”
+
+“Did yu ever see a hen leave th' walks of peace an' bugs an' rustle
+hell-bent across th' trail plumb in front of a cayuse?” Asked Buck.
+“They'll leave off rustlin' grub an' become candidates for th' graveyard
+just for cussedness. Well, a whole lot of men are th' same way. How many
+times have I seen them swagger into a gin shop an' try to run things
+sudden an' hard, an' that with half a dozen better men in th' same room?
+There's shore a-plenty of trouble a-comin' to every man without rustlin'
+around for more.
+
+“'Member that time yu an' Frenchy tried to run th' little town of Frozen
+Nose, up in Montana?” Asked Johnny, winking at the rest.
+
+“An' we did run it, for a while,” responded Buck. “But that only goes to
+show that most young men are chumps--we were just about yore age then.”
+
+Red laughed at the youngster's discomfiture: “That little squib of yourn
+shore touched her off--I reckon we irrigates on yu this time, don't we?”
+
+“Th' more th' Kid talks, th' more money he needs,” remarked Lanky,
+placing his glass on the bar. “He had to blow me an' Skinny twice last
+night.”
+
+“I got two more after yu left,” added Skinny “He shore oughter practice
+keeping still.”
+
+At one o'clock sharp Hopalong walked up to the clerk of the hotel and
+grinned. The clerk looked up:
+
+ “Hullo, Cassidy?”  He exclaimed, genially. “What was all that fuss
+about this mornin' when I was away? I haven't seen you for a long time,
+have I? How are you?”
+
+“That fuss was a fool joke of Buck's, an' I wish they had been throwed
+out,” Hopalong replied. “What I want to know is if Miss Deane is in her
+room. Yu see, I have a date with her.”
+
+The clerk grinned:
+
+“So she's roped you, too, has she?”
+
+“What do yu mean?” Asked Hopalong in surprise. “Well, well,” laughed the
+clerk. “You punchers are easy. Any third-rate actress that looks good to
+eat can rope you fellows, all right. Now look here, Laura, you keep shy
+of her corral, or you'll be broke so quick you won't believe you ever
+had a cent: that's straight. This is the third year that she's been here
+and I know what I'm talking about. How did you come to meet her?”
+
+Hopalong explained the meeting and his friend laughed again:
+
+“Why, she knows this country like a book. She can't get lost anywhere
+around here. But she's blame clever at catching punchers.”
+
+“Well, I reckon I'd better take her, go broke or not,” replied Hopalong.
+“Is she in her room?”
+
+“She is, but she is not alone,” responded the clerk. “There is a
+dude puncher up there with her and she left word here that she was
+indisposed, which means that you are outlawed.”
+
+“Who is he?” Asked Hopalong, having his suspicions. “That friend of
+yours: Ewalt. He sported a wad this morning when she passed him, and she
+let him make her acquaintance. He's another easy mark. He'll be busted
+wide open to-night.”
+
+“I reckon I'll see Tex,” suggested Hopalong, starting for the stairs.
+
+“Come back, you chump!” cried the clerk. “I don't want any shooting
+here. What do you care about it? Let her have him, for it's an easy way
+out of it for you. Let him think he's cut you out, for he'll spend all
+the more freely. Get your crowd and enlighten them--it'll be better than
+a circus. This may sound like a steer, but it's straight.”
+
+Hopalong thought for a minute and then leaned on the cigar case:
+
+“I reckon I'll take about a dozen of yore very best cigars, Charley. Got
+any real high-toned brands?”
+
+“Cortez panatella--two for a simoleon,” Chancy replied. “But, seein' that
+it's you, I'll throw off a dollar on a dozen. They're a fool notion of
+the old man, for we can't sell one in a month.”
+
+Hopalong dug up a handful and threw one on the counter, lighting
+another: “Yu light a Cortez panatella with me,” he said, pocketing the
+remainder. “That's five simoleons she didn't get. So long.”
+
+He journeyed to Tom Lee's and found his outfit making merry. Passing
+around his cigars he leaned against the bar and delighted in the first
+really good smoke he had since he came home from Kansas City.
+
+Johnny Nelson blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling and paused with a
+pleased expression on his face:
+
+“This is a lalapoloosa of a cigar,” he cried. “Where'd yu get it, an'
+how many's left?”
+
+“I got it from Charley, an' there's more than yu can buy at fifty a
+shot.”
+
+“Well, I'll just take a few for luck,” Johnny responded, running out
+into the street. Returning in five minutes with both hands full of
+cigars he passed them around and grinned: “They're birds, all right!”
+
+Hopalong smiled, turned to Buck and related his conversation with
+Chancy. “What do yu think of that?” He asked as he finished.
+
+“I think Charley oughter be yore guardian,” replied the foreman.
+
+“He was,” replied Hopalong.
+
+“If we sees Tex we'll all grin hard,” laughed Red, making for the door.
+“Come on to th' contests--Lanky's gone already.”
+
+Muddy Wells streamed to the carnival grounds and relieved itself of
+its enthusiasm and money at the booths on the way. Cow-punchers rubbed
+elbows with Indians and Mexicans, and the few tourists that were present
+were delighted with the picturesque scene. The town was full of fakirs
+and before one of them stood a group of cow-punchers, apparently
+drinking in the words of a barker.
+
+“Right this way, gents, and see the woman who don't eat. Lived for two
+years without food, gents. Right this way, gents. Only a quarter of a
+dollar. Get your tickets, gents, and see--”
+
+Red pushed forward:
+
+“What did yu say, pard?” He asked. “I'm a little off in my near ear.
+What's that about eatin' a woman for two years?”
+
+“The greatest wonder of the age, gents. The wom--”
+
+“Any discount for th' gang?” Asked Buck, gawking.
+
+“Why don't yu quit smokin' an' buy th' lady a meal?” Asked Johnny from
+the center of the group.
+
+“Th' cane yu ring th' cane yu get!” came from the other side of the
+street and Hopalong purchased rings for the outfit. Twenty-four rings
+got one cane, and it was divided between them as they wended their way
+toward the grounds.
+
+“That makes six wheels she didn't get,” murmured Hopalong. As they
+passed the snake charmer's booth they saw Tex and his companion ahead
+of them in the crowd, and they grinned broadly. “I like th' front row in
+th' balcony,” remarked Johnny, who had been to Kansas City. “Don't cry
+in th' second act--it ain't real,” laughed Red. “We'll hang John Brown on
+a sour appletree--in th' Panhandle,” sang Skinny as they passed them.
+
+Arriving at the grounds they hunted up the registration committee and
+entered in the contests. As Hopalong signed for the revolver competition
+he was rudely pushed aside and Tex wrote his name under that of his
+enemy. Hopalong was about to show quick resentment for the insult, but
+thought of what Charley had said, and he grinned sympathetically. The
+seats were filling rapidly, and the outfit went along the ground looking
+for friends. A bugle sounded and a hush swept over the crowd as the
+announcement was made for the first event.
+
+“Broncho-busting-Red Devil, never ridden: Frenchy McAllister, Tin-Cup,
+Montana; Meteor, killed his man: Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, Texas; Vixen,
+never ridden: Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, Texas.”
+
+All eyes were focused on the plain where the horse was being led out
+for the first trial. After the usual preliminaries had been gone through
+Frenchy walked over to it, vaulted in the saddle and the bandage was
+torn from the animal's eyes. For ten minutes the onlookers were held
+spellbound by the fight before them, and then the horse kicked and
+galloped away and Frenchy was picked up and carried from the field.
+
+“Too bad!” cried Buck, running from the outfit.
+
+“Did yu see it?” asked Johnny excitedly, “Th' cinch busted.” Another
+horse was led out and Skinny Thompson vaulted to the saddle, and after
+a fight of half an hour rode the animal from the enclosure to the
+clamorous shouts of his friends. Lefty Allen also rode his mount from
+the same gate, but took ten minutes more in which to do it.
+
+The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped forward:
+“First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten seconds; second,
+Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven seconds.”
+
+Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if he
+had just won a championship. They made way for him, and Johnny, who
+could not restrain his enthusiasm pounded him on the back and cried: “Yu
+old son-of-a-gun!”
+
+The announcer again came forward and gave out the competitors for the
+next contest, steer-roping and tying. Lanky Smith arose and, coiling his
+rope carefully, disappeared into the crowd. The fun was not so great in
+this, but when he returned to his outfit with the phenomenal time of six
+minutes and eight seconds for his string of ten steers, with twenty-two
+seconds for one of them, they gave him vociferous greeting. Three of his
+steers had gotten up after he had leaped from his saddle to tie them,
+but his horse had taken care of that. His nearest rival was one minute
+over him and Lanky retained the championship.
+
+Red Connors shot with such accuracy in the rifle contest as to run his
+points twenty per cent higher than Waffles, of the O-Bar-O, and won the
+new rifle.
+
+The main interest centered in the revolver contest, for it was known
+that the present champion was to defend his title against an enemy and
+fears were expressed in the crowd that there would be an “accident.”
+ Buck Peters and Red stood just behind the firing line with their hands
+on hips, and Tex, seeing the precautions, smiled grimly as he advanced
+to the line.
+
+Six bottles, with their necks an inch above a board, stood twenty paces
+from him, and he broke them all in as many shots, taking twelve seconds
+in which to do it. Hopalong followed him and tied the score. Three tin
+balls rolling erratically in a blanket supported by two men were
+sent flying into the air in four shots, Tex taking six seconds. His
+competitor sent them from the blanket in three shots and in the same
+time. In slow shooting from sights Tex passed his rival in points and
+stood to win. There was but one more event to be contested and in it
+Hopalong found his joy.
+
+Shooting from the hip when the draw is timed is not the sport of even
+good shots, and when Tex made sixty points out of a possible hundred, he
+felt that he had shot well. When Hopalong went to the line his
+friends knew that they would now see shooting such as would be almost
+unbelievable, that the best draw-and-shoot marksman in their State was
+the man who limped slightly as he advanced and who chewed reflectively
+on his fifty-cent cigar. He wore two guns and he stepped with confidence
+before the marshal of the town, who was also judge of the contest.
+
+The iron ball which lay on the ground was small enough for the use of a
+rifle and could hardly be seen from the rear seats of the amphitheater.
+There was a word spoken by the timekeeper, and a gloved hand flashed
+down and up, and the ball danced and spun and leaped and rolled as shot
+after shot followed it with a precision and speed which brought the
+audience to a heavy silence. Taking the gun which Buck tossed to him
+and throwing it into the empty holster, he awaited the signal, and then
+smoke poured from his hips and the ball jumped continuously. Both guns
+emptied in the two-hand shooting, he wheeled and jerked loose the guns
+which the marshal wore, spinning around without a pause, the target
+hardly ceasing in its rolling. Under his arms he shot, backward and
+between his legs; leaping from side to side, ducking and dodging,
+following the ball wherever it went. Reloading the weapons quickly,
+he stepped forward and followed the ball until once more his guns
+were empty. Then he turned and walked back to the side of the marshal,
+smiling a little. His friends, and there were many in the crowd, torn
+from their affected nonchalance by shooting the like of which they had
+not attributed even to him, roared and shouted and danced in a frenzy of
+delight.
+
+Red also threw his guns to Hopalong, who caught them in the air and
+turning, faced Tex, who stood white of face and completely lost in the
+forgetfulness of admiration and amazement. The guns jerked again and a
+button flew from the buckskin shirt of his enemy; another tore a flower
+from his breast and another drove it into the ground at his feet as
+others stirred his hair and cut the buckle off his pretty sombrero. Tex,
+dazed, but wise enough to stand quiet, felt his belt tear loose and drop
+to his feet, felt a spur rip from its strap and saw his cigarette leap
+from his lips. Throwing the guns to Red, Hopalong laughed and abruptly
+turned and was lost in the crowd.
+
+For several seconds there was silence, but when the dazed minds realized
+what their eyes had seen, there arose a roar which shook the houses in
+the town. Roar after roar thundered forth and was sent crashing back
+again by the distant walls, sweeping down on the discomfited dude and
+causing him to slink into the crowd to find a place less conspicuous. He
+was white yet and keen fear gripped his heart as he realized that he had
+come to the carnival with the expressed purpose of killing his enemy in
+fair combat. The whole town knew it, for he had taken pains to spread
+the news.
+
+The woman he had been with knew it from words which she had overheard
+while on her way to the grounds with him. His friends knew it and would
+laugh him into forgetfulness as the fool who boasted. Now he understood
+why he had lost so many friends: they had attempted what he had sworn to
+attempt. Look where he would he could see only a smoke-wrapped demon who
+moved and shot with a speed incredible. There was reason why Slim had
+died. There was reason why Porous and Silent had paled when they learned
+of their mission.
+
+He hated his conspicuous clothes and his pretty broncho, and the
+woman who had gotten him to squander his money, and who was doubtless
+convulsed with laughter at his expense. He worked himself into a passion
+which knew no fear and he ran for the streets of the town, there to
+make good his boast or to die. When he found his enemy he felt himself
+grasped with a grip of steel and Buck Peters swung him around and
+grinned maliciously in his face:
+
+“You plaything!” hoarsely whispered the foreman. “Why don't yu get away
+while yu can? Why do yu want to throw yoreself against certain death? I
+don't want my pleasure marred by a murder, an' that is what it will
+be if yu makes a gun-play at Hopalong. He'll shoot yu as he did yore
+buttons. Take yore pretty clothes an' yore pretty cayuse an' go where
+this is not known, an' if ever again yu feels like killing Hopalong, get
+drunk an' forget it.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by
+Clarence Edward Mulford
+
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diff --git a/2546-0.zip b/2546-0.zip
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-up, by Clarence Edward Mulford
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by
+Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
+       Bar-20
+
+Author: Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+Release Date: November 13, 2009 [EBook #2546]
+Last Updated: March 16, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPALONG CASSIDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Heath, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      HOPALONG CASSIDY'S RUSTLER ROUND-UP
+    </h1>
+    <h3>
+      or
+    </h3>
+    <h2>
+      BAR-20
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Clarence Edward Mulford
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      1906
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Buckskin <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Rashness of
+        Shorty <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Argument <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Vagrant Sioux <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Law of the Range <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Trials
+        of the Convalescent <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Open Door <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008">
+        CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hopalong Keeps His Word <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Advent of
+        McAllister <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;
+        Peace Hath its Victories <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Holding the Claim <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012">
+        CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Hospitality of Travennes <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Travennes'
+        Discomfiture <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Tale of a Cigarette <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Penalty <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Rustlers
+        on the Range <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr.
+        Trendley Assumes Added Importance <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018">
+        CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Search Begins <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Hopalong's Decision
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        Problem Solved <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Call <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The
+        Showdown <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr.
+        Cassidy Meets a Woman <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;The Strategy of Mr. Peters <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
+        <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. Buckskin
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The town lay sprawled over half a square mile of alkali plain, its main
+      Street depressing in its width, for those who were responsible for its
+      inception had worked with a generosity born of the knowledge that they had
+      at their immediate and unchallenged disposal the broad lands of Texas and
+      New Mexico on which to assemble a grand total of twenty buildings, four of
+      which were of wood. As this material was scarce, and had to be brought
+      from where the waters of the Gulf lapped against the flat coast, the
+      last-mentioned buildings were a matter of local pride, as indicating the
+      progressiveness of their owners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These creations of hammer and saw were of one story, crude and unpainted;
+      their cheap weather sheathing, warped and shrunken by the pitiless sun,
+      curled back on itself and allowed unrestricted entrance to alkali dust and
+      air. The other shacks were of adobe, and reposed in that magnificent
+      squalor dear to their owners, Indians and Mexicans.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an incident of the Cattle Trail, that most unique and stupendous of
+      all modern migrations, and its founders must have been inspired with a
+      malicious desire to perpetrate a crime against geography, or else they
+      reveled in a perverse cussedness, for within a mile on every side lay
+      broad prairies, and two miles to the east flowed the indolent waters of
+      the Rio Pecos itself. The distance separating the town from the river was
+      excusable, for at certain seasons of the year the placid stream swelled
+      mightily and swept down in a broad expanse of turbulent, yellow flood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buckskin was a town of one hundred inhabitants, located in the valley of
+      the Rio Pecos fifty miles south of the Texas-New Mexico line. The census
+      claimed two hundred, but it was a well-known fact that it was exaggerated.
+      One instance of this is shown by the name of Tom Flynn. Those who once
+      knew Tom Flynn, alias Johnny Redmond, alias Bill Sweeney, alias Chuck
+      Mullen, by all four names, could find them in the census list.
+      Furthermore, he had been shot and killed in the March of the year
+      preceding the census, and now occupied a grave in the young but
+      flourishing cemetery. Perry's Bend, twenty miles up the river, was
+      cognizant of this and other facts, and, laughing in open derision at the
+      padded list, claimed to be the better town in all ways, including
+      marksmanship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One year before this tale opens, Buck Peters, an example for the more
+      recent Billy the Kid, had paid Perry's Bend a short but busy visit. He had
+      ridden in at the north end of Main Street and out at the south. As he came
+      in he was fired at by a group of ugly cowboys from a ranch known as the C
+      80. He was hit twice, but he unlimbered his artillery, and before his
+      horse had carried him, half dead, out on the prairie, he had killed one of
+      the group. Several citizens had joined the cowboys and added their bullets
+      against Buck. The deceased had been the best bartender in the country, and
+      the rage of the suffering citizens can well be imagined. They swore
+      vengeance on Buck, his ranch, and his stamping ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The difference between Buck and Billy the Kid is that the former never
+      shot a man who was not trying to shoot him, or who had not been warned by
+      some action against Buck that would call for it. He minded his own
+      business, never picked a quarrel, and was quiet and pacific up to a
+      certain point. After that had been passed he became like a raging cyclone
+      in a tenement house, and storm-cellars were much in demand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fanning&rdquo; is the name of a certain style of gun play not unknown among the
+      bad men of the West. While Buck was not a bad man, he had to rub elbows
+      with them frequently, and he believed that the sauce for the goose was the
+      sauce for the gander. So be bad removed the trigger of his revolver and
+      worked the hammer with the thumb of the &ldquo;gun hand&rdquo; or the heel of the
+      unencumbered hand. The speed thus acquired was greater than that of the
+      more modern double-action weapon. Six shots in a few seconds was his
+      average speed when that number was required, and when it is thoroughly
+      understood that at least some of them found their intended bullets it is
+      not difficult to realize that fanning was an operation of danger when Buck
+      was doing it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was a good rider, as all cowboys are, and was not afraid of anything
+      that lived. At one time he and his chums, Red Connors and Hopalong
+      Cassidy, had successfully routed a band of fifteen Apaches who wanted
+      their scalps. Of these, twelve never hunted scalps again, nor anything
+      else on this earth, and the other three returned to their tribe with the
+      report that three evil Spirits had chased them with &ldquo;wheel guns&rdquo;
+       (cannons).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So now, since his visit to Perry's Bend, the rivalry of the two towns had
+      turned to hatred and an alert and eager readiness to increase the
+      inhabitants of each other's graveyard. A state of war existed, which for a
+      time resulted in nothing worse than acrimonious suggestions. But the time
+      came when the score was settled to the satisfaction of one side, at least.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Four ranches were also concerned in the trouble. Buckskin was surrounded
+      by two, the Bar 20 and the Three Triangle. Perry's Bend was the common
+      point for the C 80 and the Double Arrow. Each of the two ranch contingents
+      accepted the feud as a matter of course, and as a matter of course took
+      sides with their respective towns. As no better class of fighters ever
+      lived, the trouble assumed Homeric proportions and insured a danger zone
+      well worth watching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bar-20's northern line was C 80's southern one, and Skinny Thompson took
+      his turn at outriding one morning after the season's round-up. He was to
+      follow the boundary and turn back stray cattle. When he had covered the
+      greater part of his journey he saw Shorty Jones riding toward him on a
+      course parallel to his own and about long revolver range away. Shorty and
+      he had &ldquo;crossed trails&rdquo; the year before and the best of feelings did not
+      exist between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shorty stopped and stared at Skinny, who did likewise at Shorty. Shorty
+      turned his mount around and applied the spurs, thereby causing his
+      indignant horse to raise both heels at Skinny. The latter took it all in
+      gravely and, as Shorty faced him again, placed his left thumb to his nose,
+      wiggling his fingers suggestively. Shorty took no apparent notice of this
+      but began to shout:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu wants to keep yore busted-down cows on yore own side. They was all
+      over us day afore yisterday. I'm goin' to salt any more what comes over,
+      and don't yu fergit it, neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thompson wigwagged with his fingers again and shouted in reply: &ldquo;Yu c'n
+      salt all yu wants to, but if I ketch yu adoin' it yu won't have to work no
+      more. An' I kin say right here thet they's more C 80 cows over here than
+      they's Bar-20's over there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shorty reached for his revolver and yelled, &ldquo;Yore a liar!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Among the cowboys in particular and the Westerners in general at that
+      time, the three suicidal terms, unless one was an expert in drawing quick
+      and shooting straight with one movement, were the words &ldquo;liar,&rdquo; &ldquo;coward,&rdquo;
+       and &ldquo;thief.&rdquo; Any man who was called one of these in earnest, and he was
+      the judge, was expected to shoot if he could and save his life, for the
+      words were seldom used without a gun coming with them. The movement of
+      Shorty's hand toward his belt before the appellation reached him was
+      enough for Skinny, who let go at long range&mdash;and missed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two reports were as one. Both urged their horses nearer and fired
+      again. This time Skinny's sombrero gave a sharp jerk and a hole appeared
+      in the crown. The third shot of Skinny's sent the horse of the other to
+      its knees and then over on its side. Shorty very promptly crawled behind
+      it and, as he did so, Skinny began a wide circle, firing at intervals as
+      Shorty's smoke cleared away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shorty had the best position for defense, as he was in a shallow coule,
+      but he knew that he could not leave it until his opponent had either grown
+      tired of the affair or had used up his ammunition. Skinny knew it, too.
+      Skinny also knew that he could get back to the ranch house and lay in a
+      supply of food and ammunition and return before Shorty could cover the
+      twelve miles he had to go on foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally Thompson began to head for home. He had carried the matter as far
+      as he could without it being murder. Too much time had elapsed now, and,
+      besides, it was before breakfast and he was hungry. He would go away and
+      settle the score at some time when they would be on equal terms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rode along the line for a mile and chanced to look back. Two C 80
+      punchers were riding after him, and as they saw him turn and discover them
+      they fired at him and yelled. He rode on for some distance and cautiously
+      drew his rifle out of its long holster at his right leg. Suddenly he
+      turned around in the saddle and fired twice. One of his pursuers fell
+      forward on the neck of his horse, and his comrade turned to help him.
+      Thompson wig-wagged again and rode on, reaching the ranch as the others
+      were finishing their breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the table Red Connors remarked that the tardy one had a hole in his
+      sombrero, and asked its owner how and where he had received it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had a argument with C 80 out'n th' line.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go 'way! Ventilate enny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good boy, sonny! Hey, Hopalong, Skinny perforated C 80 this mawnin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong Cassidy was struggling with a mouthful of beef. He turned his
+      eyes toward Red without ceasing, and grinning as well as he could under
+      the circumstances managed to grunt out &ldquo;Gu&mdash;,&rdquo; which was as near to
+      &ldquo;Good&rdquo; as the beef would allow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lanky Smith now chimed in as he repeatedly stuck his knife into a
+      reluctant boiled potato, &ldquo;How'd yu do it, Skinny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bet he sneaked up on him,&rdquo; joshed Buck Peters; &ldquo;did yu ask his pardin,
+      Skinny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask nuthin',&rdquo; remarked Red, &ldquo;he jest nachurly walks up to C 80 an' sez,
+      'Kin I have the pleasure of ventilatin' yu?' an' C So he sez, 'If yu do it
+      easy like,' sez he. Didn't he, Thompson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'll be some ventilatin' under th' table if yu fellows don't lemme
+      alone; I'm hungry,&rdquo; complained Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, Hopalong, I bets yu I kin clean up C 80 all by my lonesome,&rdquo;
+       announced Buck, winking at Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah! Yu onct tried to clean up the Bend, Buckie, an' if Pete an' Billy
+      hadn't afound yu when they come by Eagle Pass that night yu wouldn't be
+      here eatin' beef by th' pound,&rdquo; glancing at the hard-working Hopalong. &ldquo;It
+      was plum lucky fer yu that they was acourtin' that time, wasn't it,
+      Hopalong?&rdquo; suddenly asked Red. Hopalong nearly strangled in his efforts to
+      speak. He gave it up and nodded his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why can't yu git it straight, Connors? I wasn't doin' no courtin', it was
+      Pete. I runned into him on th' other side o' th' pass. I'd look fine
+      acourtin', wouldn't I?&rdquo; asked the downtrodden Williams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pete Wilson skillfully flipped a potato into that worthy's coffee,
+      spilling the beverage of the questionable name over a large expanse of
+      blue flannel shirt. &ldquo;Yu's all right, yu are. Why, when I meets yu, yu was
+      lost in th' arms of yore ladylove. All I could see was yore feet. Go an'
+      git tangled up with a two hundred and forty pound half-breed squaw an'
+      then try to lay it onter me! When I proposed drownin' yore troubles over
+      at Cowan's, yu went an' got mad over what yu called th' insinooation. An'
+      yu shore didn't look any too blamed fine, neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All th' same,&rdquo; volunteered Thompson, who had taken the edge from his
+      appetite, &ldquo;we better go over an' pay C 80 a call. I don't like what Shorty
+      said about saltin' our cattle. He'll shore do it, unless I camps on th'
+      line, which same I hain't hankerin' after.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he wouldn't stop th' cows that way, Skinny; he was only afoolin',&rdquo;
+       exclaimed Connors meekly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Foolin' yore gran'mother! That there bunch'll do anything if we wasn't
+      lookin',&rdquo; hotly replied Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's shore nuff gospel, Thomp. They's sore fer mor'n one thing. They
+      got aplenty when Buck went on th' warpath, an they's hankerin' to git
+      square,&rdquo; remarked Johnny Nelson, stealing the pie, a rare treat, of his
+      neighbor when that unfortunate individual was not looking. He had it
+      halfway to his mouth when its former owner, Jimmy Price, a boy of
+      eighteen, turned his head and saw it going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi-yi! Yu clay-bank coyote, drap thet pie! Did yu ever see such a
+      son-of-a-gun fer pie?&rdquo; he plaintively asked Red Connors, as he grabbed a
+      mighty handful of apples and crust. &ldquo;Pie'll kill yu some day, yu
+      bob-tailed jack! I had an uncle that died onct. He et too much pie an' he
+      went an' turned green, an so'll yu if yu don't let it alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu ought'r seed th' pie Johnny had down in Eagle Flat,&rdquo; murmured Lanky
+      Smith reminiscently. &ldquo;She had feet that'd stop a stampede. Johnny was
+      shore loco about her. Swore she was the finest blossom that ever growed.&rdquo;
+       Here he choked and tears of laughter coursed down his weather-beaten face
+      as he pictured her. &ldquo;She was a dainty Mexican, about fifteen han's high
+      an' about sixteen han's around. Johnny used to chalk off when he hugged
+      her, usen't yu, Johnny? One night when he had got purty well around on th'
+      second lap he run inter a feller jest startin' out on his fust. They
+      hain't caught that Mexican yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nelson was pelted with everything in sight. He slowly wiped off the pie
+      crust and bread and potatoes. &ldquo;Anybody'd think I was a busted grub wagon,&rdquo;
+       he grumbled. When he had fished the last piece of beef out of his ear he
+      went out and offered to stand treat. As the round-up was over, they slid
+      into their saddles and raced for Cowan's saloon at Buckskin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. The Rashness of Shorty
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Buckskin was very hot; in fact it was never anything else. Few people were
+      on the streets and the town was quiet. Over in the Houston hotel a crowd
+      of cowboys was lounging in the barroom. They were very quiet&mdash;a
+      condition as rare as it was ominous. Their mounts, twelve in all, were
+      switching flies from their quivering skins in the corral at the rear.
+      Eight of these had a large C 80 branded on their flanks; the other four, a
+      Double Arrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the barroom a slim, wiry man was looking out of the dirty window up the
+      street at Cowan's saloon. Shorty was complaining, &ldquo;They shore oughter be
+      here now. They rounded up last week.&rdquo; The man nearest assured him that
+      they would come. The man at the window turned and said, &ldquo;They's yer now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In front of Cowan's a crowd of nine happy-go-lucky, daredevil riders were
+      sliding from their saddles. They threw their reins over the heads of their
+      mounts and filed in to the bar. Laughter issued from the open door and the
+      clink of glasses could be heard. They stood in picturesque groups, strong,
+      self-reliant, humorous, virile. Their expensive sombreros were pushed far
+      back on their heads and their hairy chaps were covered with the alkali
+      dust from their ride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cowan, bottle in hand, pushed out several more glasses. He kicked a dog
+      from under his feet and looked at Buck. &ldquo;Rounded up yet?&rdquo; he inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore, day afore yisterday,&rdquo; came the reply. The rest were busy removing
+      the dust from their throats, and gradually drifted into groups of two or
+      three. One of these groups strolled over to the solitary card table, and
+      found Jimmy Price resting in a cheap chair, his legs on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wisht yu'd extricate yore delicate feet from off'n this hyar table,
+      James,&rdquo; humbly requested Lanky Smith, morally backed up by those with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as, they shore is delicate, Mr. Smith,&rdquo; responded Jimmy without
+      moving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We wants to play draw, Jimmy,&rdquo; explained Pete.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore welcome to play if yu wants to. Didn't I tell yu when yu
+      growed that mustache that yu didn't have to ask me any more?&rdquo; queried the
+      placid James, paternally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call 'em off, sonny. Pete sez he kin clean me out. Anyhow, yu kin have
+      the fust deal,&rdquo; compromised Lanky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm shore sorry fer Pete if he cayn't. Yu don't reckon I has to have fust
+      deal to beat yu fellers, do yu? Go way an' lemme alone; I never seed such
+      a bunch fer buttin' in as yu fellers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy Williams returned to the bar. Then he walked along it until he was
+      behind the recalcitrant possessor of the table. While his aggrieved
+      friends shuffled their feet uneasily to cover his approach, he tiptoed up
+      behind Jimmy and, with a nod, grasped that indignant individual firmly by
+      the neck while the others grabbed his feet. They carried him, twisting and
+      bucking, to the middle of the street and deposited him in the dust,
+      returning to the now vacant table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy rested quietly for a few seconds and then slowly arose, dusting the
+      alkali from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' wall-eyed piruts,&rdquo; he muttered, and then scratched his head for a way
+      to &ldquo;play hunk.&rdquo; As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a snicker
+      from behind him. He, thinking it was one of his late tormentors, paid no
+      attention to it. Then a cynical, biting laugh stung him. He wheeled, to
+      see Shorty leaning against a tree, a sneering leer on his flushed face.
+      Shorty's right hand was suspended above his holster, hooked to his belt by
+      the thumb&mdash;a favorite position of his when expecting trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of yore reg'lar habits?&rdquo; he drawled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy began to dust himself in silence, but his lips were compressed to a
+      thin white line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does they hurt yu?&rdquo; pursued the onlooker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy looked up. &ldquo;I heard tell that they make glue outen cayuses,
+      sometimes,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shorty's eyes flashed. The loss of the horse had been rankling in his
+      heart all day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does they git yu frequent?&rdquo; he asked. His voice sounded hard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, 'bout as frequent as yu lose a cayuse, I reckon,&rdquo; replied Jimmy
+      hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shorty's hand streaked to his holster and Jimmy followed his lead. Jimmy's
+      Colt was caught. He had bucked too much. As he fell Shorty ran for the
+      Houston House.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pistol shots were common, for they were the universal method of expressing
+      emotions. The poker players grinned, thinking their victim was letting off
+      his indignation. Lanky sized up his hand and remarked half audibly, &ldquo;He's
+      a shore good kid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bartender, fearing for his new beveled, gilt-framed mirror, gave a
+      hasty glance out the window. He turned around, made change and remarked to
+      Buck, &ldquo;Yore kid, Jimmy, is plugged.&rdquo; Several of the more credulous craned
+      their necks to see, Buck being the first. &ldquo;Judas!&rdquo; he shouted, and ran out
+      to where Jimmy lay coughing, his toes twitching. The saloon was deserted
+      and a crowd of angry cowboys surrounded their chum-aboy. Buck had seen
+      Shorty enter the door of the Houston House and he swore. &ldquo;Chase them C 80
+      and Arrow cayuses behind the saloon, Pete, an' git under cover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy was choking and he coughed up blood. &ldquo;He's shore&mdash;got me. My&mdash;gun
+      stuck,&rdquo; he added apologetically. He tried to sit up, but was not able and
+      he looked surprised. &ldquo;It's purty-damn hot-out here,&rdquo; he suggested. Johnny
+      and Billy carried him in the saloon and placed him by the table, in the
+      chair he had previously vacated. As they stood up he fell across the table
+      and died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy placed the dead boy's sombrero on his head and laid the refractory
+      six-shooter on the table. &ldquo;I wonder who th' dirty killer was.&rdquo; He looked
+      at the slim figure and started to go out, followed by Johnny. As he
+      reached the threshold a bullet zipped past him and thudded into the frame
+      of the door. He backed away and looked surprised. &ldquo;That's Shorty's
+      shootin'&mdash;he allus misses 'bout that much.&rdquo; He looked out and saw
+      Buck standing behind the live oak that Shorty had leaned against, firing
+      at the hotel. Turning around he made for the rear, remarking to Johnny
+      that &ldquo;they's in th' Houston.&rdquo; Johnny looked at the quiet figure in the
+      chair and swore softly. He followed Billy. Cowan, closing the door and
+      taking a buffalo gun from under the bar, went out also and slammed the
+      rear door forcibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. The Argument
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Up the street two hundred yards from the Houston House Skinny and Pete lay
+      hidden behind a bowlder. Three hundred yards on the other side of the
+      hotel Johnny and Billy were stretched out in an arroyo. Buck was lying
+      down now, and Hopalong, from his position in the barn belonging to the
+      hotel, was methodically dropping the horses of the besieged, a job he
+      hated as much as he hated poison. The corral was their death trap. Red and
+      Lanky were emitting clouds of smoke from behind the store, immediately
+      across the street from the barroom. A buffalo gun roared down by the plaza
+      and several Sharps cracked a protest from different points. The town had
+      awakened and the shots were dropping steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Strange noises filled the air. They grew in tone and volume and then
+      dwindled away to nothing. The hum of the buffalo gun and the sobbing
+      pi-in-in-ing of the Winchesters were liberally mixed with the sharp whines
+      of the revolvers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no windows in the hotel now. Raw furrows in the bleached wood
+      showed yellow, and splinters mysteriously sprang from the casings. The
+      panels of the door were producing cracks and the cheap door handle flew
+      many ways at once. An empty whisky keg on the stoop boomed out mournfully
+      at intervals and finally rolled down the steps with a rumbling protest.
+      Wisps of smoke slowly climbed up the walls and seemed to be waving
+      defiance to the curling wisps in the open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pete raised his shoulder to refill the magazine of his smoking rifle and
+      dropped the cartridges all over his lap. He looked sheepishly at Skinny
+      and began to load with his other hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore plum loco, yu are. Don't yu reckon they kin hit a blue shirt at two
+      hundred?&rdquo; Skinny cynically inquired. &ldquo;Got one that time,&rdquo; he announced a
+      second later.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder who's got th' buffalo,&rdquo; grunted Pete. &ldquo;Mus' be Cowan,&rdquo; he
+      replied to his own question and settled himself to use his left hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't yu git Shorty; he's my meat,&rdquo; suggested Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu better tell Buck&mdash;he ain't got no love fer Shorty,&rdquo; replied Pete,
+      aiming carefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The panic in the corral ceased and Hopalong was now sending his regrets
+      against the panels of the rear door. He had cut his last initial in the
+      near panel and was starting a wobbly &ldquo;H&rdquo; in its neighbor. He was in a good
+      position. There were no windows in the rear wall, and as the door was a
+      very dangerous place he was not fired at.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to get tired of this one-sided business and crawled up on the
+      window ledge, dangling his feet on the outside. He occasionally sent a
+      bullet at a different part of the door, but amused himself by annoying
+      Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plenty hot down there?&rdquo; he pleasantly inquired, and as he received no
+      answer he tried again. &ldquo;Better save some of them cartridges fer some other
+      time, Buck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck was sending 45-70's into the shattered window with a precision that
+      presaged evil to any of the defenders who were rash enough to try to gain
+      the other end of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong bit off a chew of tobacco and drowned a green fly that was
+      crawling up the side of the barn. The yellow liquid streaked downward a
+      short distance and was eagerly sucked up by the warped boards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A spurt of smoke leaped from the battered door and the bored Hopalong
+      promptly tumbled back inside. He felt of his arm, and then, delighted at
+      the notice taken of his artistic efforts, shot several times from a crack
+      on his right. &ldquo;This yer's shore gittin' like home,&rdquo; he gravely remarked to
+      the splinter that whizzed past his head. He shot again at the door and it
+      sagged outward, accompanied by the thud of a falling body. &ldquo;Pies like
+      mother used to make,&rdquo; he announced to the loft as he slipped the magazine
+      full of .45-70's. &ldquo;An' pills like popper used to take,&rdquo; he continued when
+      he had lowered the level of the water in his flask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rolled a cigarette and tossed the match into the air, extinguishing it
+      by a shot from his Colt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got any cigarettes, Hoppy?&rdquo; said a voice from below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; replied the joyous puncher, recognizing Pete; &ldquo;how'd yu git
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like a cow. Busy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None whatever. Comin' up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. Skinny wants a smoke too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong handed tobacco and papers down the hole. &ldquo;So long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; replied the daring Pete, who risked death twice for a smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hot afternoon dragged along and about three o'clock Buck held up an
+      empty cartridge belt to the gaze of the curious Hopalong. That observant
+      worthy nodded and threw a double handful of cartridges, one by one, to the
+      patient and unrelenting Buck, who filled his gun and piled the few
+      remaining ones up at his side. &ldquo;Th' lives of mice and men gang aft all
+      wrong,&rdquo; he remarked at random.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' son-of-a-gun's talkin' Shakespeare,&rdquo; marveled Hopalong. &ldquo;Satiate any,
+      Buck?&rdquo; he asked as that worthy settled down to await his chance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;Shorty an' another. Plenty damn hot down here,&rdquo; he
+      complained. A spurt of alkali dust stung his face, but the hand that made
+      it never made another. &ldquo;Three,&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;How many, Hoppy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;One. That's four.  Wonder if th' others got any?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pete said Skinny got one,&rdquo; replied the intent Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' son-of-a-gun, he never said nothin' about it, an' me a fillin' his
+      ornery paws with smokin'.&rdquo; Hopalong was indignant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bet yu ten we don't git 'em afore dark,&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got yu. Go yu ten more I gits another,&rdquo; promptly responded Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a shore cinch. Make her twenty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu'll have to square it with Skinny, he shore wanted Shorty plum' bad,&rdquo;
+       Hopalong informed the unerring marksman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't he say suthin' about it? Anyhow, Jimmy was my bunkie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong's cigarette disintegrated and the board at his left received a
+      hole. He promptly disappeared and Buck laughed. He sat up in the loft and
+      angrily spat the soaked paper out from between his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that trouble fer nothin', th' white-eyed coyote,&rdquo; he muttered. Then
+      he crawled around to one side and fired at the center of his &ldquo;C.&rdquo; Another
+      shot hurtled at him and his left arm fell to his side. &ldquo;That's funny&mdash;wonder
+      where th' damn pirut is?&rdquo; He looked out cautiously and saw a cloud of
+      smoke over a knothole which was situated close up under the eaves of the
+      barroom; and it was being agitated. Some one was blowing at it to make it
+      disappear. He aimed very carefully at the knot and fired. He heard a sound
+      between a curse and a squawk and was not molested any further from that
+      point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knowed he'd git hurt,&rdquo; he explained to the bandage, torn from the edge
+      of his kerchief, which he carefully bound around his last wound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down in the arroyo Johnny was complaining.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This yer's a no good bunk,&rdquo; he plaintively remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shore ain't&mdash;but it's th' best we kin find,&rdquo; apologized Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's th' sixth that feller sent up there. He's a damn poor shot,&rdquo;
+       observed Johnny; &ldquo;must be Shorty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shorty kin shoot plum' good&mdash;tain't him,&rdquo; contradicted Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yas&mdash;with a six-shooter. He's off'n his feed with a rifle,&rdquo;
+       explained Johnny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu wants to stay down from up there, yu ijit,&rdquo; warned Billy as the
+      disgusted Johnny crawled up the bank. He slid down again with a welt on
+      his neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's somebody else now. He oughter a done better'n that,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy had fired as Johnny started to slide and he smoothed his aggrieved
+      chum. &ldquo;He could onct, yu means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu git him?&rdquo; asked the anxious Johnny, rubbing his welt. &ldquo;Plum'
+      center,&rdquo; responded the business-like Billy. &ldquo;Go up agin, mebby I kin git
+      another,&rdquo; he suggested tentatively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby you kin go to blazes. I ain't no gallery,&rdquo; grinned the now
+      exuberant owner of the welt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's got the buffalo?&rdquo; he inquired as the great gun roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mus' be Cowan. He's shore all right. Sounds like a bloomin' cannon,&rdquo;
+       replied Billy. &ldquo;Lemme alone with yore fool questions, I'm busy,&rdquo; he
+      complained as his talkative partner started to ask another. &ldquo;Go an' git me
+      some water&mdash;I'm alkalied. An' git some .45's, mine's purty near
+      gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny crawled down the arroyo and reappeared at Hopalong's barn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he entered the door a handful of empty shells fell on his hat and
+      dropped to the floor. He shook his head and remarked, &ldquo;That mus' be that
+      fool Hopalong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore right. How's business?&rdquo; inquired the festive Cassidy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Purty fair. Billy's got one. How many's gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Buck's got three, I got two and Skinny's got one. That's six, an' Billy
+      is seven. They's five more,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How'd yu know?&rdquo; queried Johnny as he filled his flask at the horse
+      trough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because they's twelve cayuses behind the hotel. That's why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They might git away on 'em,&rdquo; suggested the practical Johnny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't. They's all cashed in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu said that they's five left,&rdquo; ejaculated the puzzled water carrier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah; yore a smart cuss, ain't yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny grinned and then said, &ldquo;Got any smokin'?&rdquo; Hopalong looked grieved.
+      &ldquo;I ain't no store. Why don't yu git generous and buy some?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He partially filled Johnny's hand, and as he put the sadly depleted bag
+      away he inquired, &ldquo;Got any papers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got any matches?&rdquo; he asked cynically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kin yu smoke 'em?&rdquo; he yelled, indignantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore nuff,&rdquo; placidly replied the unruffled Johnny. &ldquo;Billy wants some
+      .45-70's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong gasped. &ldquo;Don't he want my gun, too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. Got a better one. Hurry up, he'll git mad.&rdquo; Hopalong was a very
+      methodical person. He was the only one of his crowd to carry a second
+      cartridge strap. It hung over his right shoulder and rested on his left
+      hip. His waist belt held thirty cartridges for the revolvers. He extracted
+      twenty from that part of the shoulder strap hardest to get at, the back,
+      by simply pulling it over his shoulder and plucking out the bullets as
+      they came into reach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all yu kin have. I'm Buck's ammernition jackass,&rdquo; he explained.
+      &ldquo;Bet yu ten we gits 'em afore dark&rdquo;&mdash;he was hedging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any fool knows that. I'll take yu if yu bets th' other way,&rdquo; responded
+      Johnny, grinning. He knew Hopalong's weak spot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore on,&rdquo; promptly responded Hopalong, who would bet on anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so long,&rdquo; said Johnny as he crawled away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu, Johnny!&rdquo; called out Hopalong, &ldquo;don't yu go an' tell anybody I
+      got any pills left. I ain't no ars'nal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny replied by elevating one foot and waving it. Then he disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind the store, the most precarious position among the besiegers, Red
+      Connors and Lanky Smith were ensconced and commanded a view of the entire
+      length of the barroom. They could see the dark mass they knew to be the
+      rear door and derived a great amount of amusement from the spots of light
+      which were appearing in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They watched the &ldquo;C&rdquo; (reversed to them) appear and be completed. When the
+      wobbly &ldquo;H&rdquo; grew to completion they laughed heartily. Then the hardwood bar
+      had been dragged across the field of vision and up to the front windows,
+      and they could only see the indiscriminate holes which appeared in the
+      upper panels at frequent intervals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every time they fired they had to expose a part of themselves to a return
+      shot, with the result that Lanky's forearm was seared its entire length.
+      Red had been more fortunate and only had a bruised ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They laboriously rolled several large rocks out in the open, pushing them
+      beyond the shelter of the store with their rifles. When they had crawled
+      behind them they each had another wound. From their new position they
+      could see Hopalong sitting in his window. He promptly waved his sombrero
+      and grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were the most experienced fighters of all except Buck, and were
+      saving their shots. When they did shoot they always had some portion of a
+      man's body to aim at, and the damage they inflicted was considerable. They
+      said nothing, being older than the rest and more taciturn, and they were
+      not reckless. Although Hopalong's antics made them laugh, they grumbled at
+      his recklessness and were not tempted to emulate him. It was noticeable,
+      too, that they shoved their rifles out simultaneously and, although both
+      were aiming, only one fired. Lanky's gun cracked so close to the enemy's
+      that the whirr of the bullet over Red's head was merged in the crack of
+      his partner's reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Hopalong saw the rocks roll out from behind the store he grew very
+      curious. Then he saw a flash, followed instantly by another from the
+      second rifle. He saw several of these follow shots and could sit in
+      silence no longer. He waved his hat to attract attention and then shouted,
+      &ldquo;How many?&rdquo; A shot was sent straight up in the air and he notified Buck
+      that there were only four left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fire of these four grew less rapid&mdash;they were saving their
+      ammunition. A pot shot at Hopalong sent that gentleman's rifle hurtling to
+      the ground. Another tore through his hat, removing a neat amount of skin
+      and hair and giving him a lifelong part. He fell back inside and proceeded
+      to shoot fast and straight with his revolvers, his head burning as though
+      on fire. When he had vented the dangerous pressure of his anger he went
+      below and tried to fish the rifle in with a long stick. It was obdurate,
+      so he sent three more shots into the door, and, receiving no reply, ran
+      out around the corner of his shelter and grasped the weapon. When half way
+      back he sank to the ground. Before another shot could be fired at him with
+      any judgment a ripping, spitting rifle was being frantically worked from
+      the barn. The bullets tore the door into seams and gaps; the lowest panel,
+      the one having the &ldquo;H&rdquo; in it, fell inward in chunks. Johnny had returned
+      for another smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong, still grasping the rifle, rolled rapidly around the corner of
+      the barn. He endeavored to stand, but could not. Johnny, hearing rapid and
+      fluent swearing, came out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where'd they git yu?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;In th' off leg.  Hurts like blazes.  Did yu git him?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. I jest come fer another cig; got any left?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up above. Yore gall is shore apallin'. Help me in, yu two-laigged
+      jackass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore. We'll shore pay our 'tentions to that door. She'll go purty soon&mdash;she's
+      as full of holes as th' Bad Lan's,&rdquo; replied Johnny. &ldquo;Git aholt an' hop
+      along, Hopalong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He helped the swearing Hopalong inside, and then the lead they pumped into
+      the wrecked door was scandalous. Another panel fell in and Hopalong's &ldquo;C&rdquo;
+       was destroyed. A wide crack appeared in the one above it and grew rapidly.
+      Its mate began to gape and finally both were driven in. The increase in
+      the light caused by these openings allowed Red and Lanky to secure better
+      aim and soon the fire of the defenders died out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and dashed
+      for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening with a
+      fusilade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly missed
+      sudden death. As it was he staggered to the side, out of range, and
+      dropped full length to the ground, flat on his face. Hopalong's rifle
+      cracked incessantly, but to no avail. The man who had fired the shot was
+      dead. Buck got him immediately after he had shot Johnny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Calling to Skinny and Red to cover him, Buck sprinted to where Johnny lay
+      gasping. The bullet had struck his shoulder. Buck, Colt in hand, leaped
+      through the door, but met with no resistance. He signaled to Hopalong, who
+      yelled, &ldquo;They's none left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The trees and rocks and gullies and buildings yielded men who soon crowded
+      around the hotel. A young doctor, lately graduated, appeared. It was his
+      first case, but he eased Johnny. Then he went over to Hopalong, who was
+      now raving, and attended to him. The others were patched up as well as
+      possible and the struggling young physician had his pockets crammed full
+      of gold and silver coins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The scene of the wrecked barroom was indescribable. Holes, furrows,
+      shattered glass and bottles, the liquor oozing down the walls of the
+      shelves and running over the floor; the ruined furniture, a wrecked bar,
+      seared and shattered and covered with blood; bodies as they had been piled
+      in the corners; ropes, shells, hats; and liquor everywhere, over
+      everything, met the gaze of those who had caused the chaos.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perry's Bend had failed to wipe out the score.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. The Vagrant Sioux
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Buckskin gradually readjusted itself to the conditions which had existed
+      before its sudden leap into the limelight as a town which did things. The
+      soiree at the Houston House had drifted into the past, and was now
+      substantially established as an epoch in the history of the town.
+      Exuberant joy gave way to dignity and deprecation, and to solid
+      satisfaction; and the conversations across the bar brought forth parallels
+      of the affair to be judged impartially&mdash;and the impartial judgment
+      was, unanimously, that while there had undoubtedly been good fights before
+      Perry's Bend had disturbed the local quiet, they were not quite up to the
+      new standard of strenuous hospitality. Finally the heat blistered
+      everything back into the old state, and the shadows continued to be in
+      demand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One afternoon, a month after the reception of the honorable delegation
+      from Perry's Bend, the town of Buckskin seemed desolated, and the earth
+      and the buildings thereon were as huge furnaces radiating a visible heat,
+      but when the blazing sun had begun to settle in the west it awoke with a
+      clamor which might have been laid to the efforts of a zealous Satan. At
+      this time it became the Mecca of two score or more joyous cowboys from the
+      neighboring ranches, who livened things as those knights of the saddle
+      could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the scant but heavy shadow of Cowan's saloon sat a picturesque figure
+      from whom came guttural, resonant rumblings which mingled in a spirit of
+      loneliness with the fretful sighs of a flea-tormented dog. Both dog and
+      master were vagrants, and they were tolerated because it was a matter of
+      supreme indifference as to who came or how long they stayed as long as the
+      ethics and the unwritten law of the cow country were inviolate. And the
+      breaking of these caused no unnecessary anxiety, for justice was both
+      speedy and sure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the outcast Sioux and his yellow dog had drifted into town some few
+      months before they had caused neither expostulation nor inquiry, as the
+      cardinal virtue of that whole broad land was to ask a man no questions
+      which might prove embarrassing to all concerned; judgment was of
+      observation, not of history, and a man's past would reveal itself through
+      actions. It mattered little whether he was an embezzler or the wild chip
+      from some prosperous eastern block, as men came to the range to forget and
+      to lose touch with the pampered East; and the range absorbed them as its
+      own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man was only a man as his skin contained the qualities necessary; and
+      the illiterate who could ride and shoot and live to himself was far more
+      esteemed than the educated who could not do those things. The more a man
+      depends upon himself and the closer is his contact to a quick judgment the
+      more laconic and even-poised he becomes. And the knowledge that he is
+      himself a judge tends to create caution and judgment. He has no court to
+      uphold his honor and to offer him protection, so he must be quick to
+      protect himself and to maintain his own standing. His nature saved him, or
+      it executed; and the range absolved him of all unpaid penalties of a
+      careless past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He became a man born again and he took up his burden, the exactions of a
+      new environment, and he lived as long as those exactions gave him the
+      right to live. He must tolerate no restrictions of his natural rights, and
+      he must not restrict; for the one would proclaim him a coward, the other a
+      bully; and both received short shrifts in that land of the self-protected.
+      The basic law of nature is the survival of the fittest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, when the wanderers found their level in Buckskin they were not even
+      asked by what name men knew them. Not caring to hear a name which might
+      not harmonize with their idea of the fitness of things, the cowboys of the
+      Bar-20 had, with a freedom born of excellent livers and fearless
+      temperaments, bestowed names befitting their sense of humor and
+      adaptability. The official title of the Sioux was By-and-by; the dog was
+      known as Fleas. Never had names more clearly described the objects to be
+      represented, for they were excellent examples of cowboy discernment and
+      aptitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In their eyes By-and-by was a man. He could feel and he could resent
+      insults. They did not class him as one of themselves, because he did not
+      have energy enough to demand and justify such classification. With them he
+      had a right to enjoy his life as he saw fit so long as he did not trespass
+      on or restrict the rights of others. They were not analytic in
+      temperament, neither were they moralists. He was not a menace to society,
+      because society had superb defenses. So they vaguely recognized his many
+      poor qualities and clearly saw his few good ones. He could shoot, when
+      permitted, with the best; no horse, however refractory, had ever been
+      known to throw him; he was an adept at following the trails left by
+      rustlers, and that was an asset; he became of value to the community; he
+      was an economic factor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His ability to consume liquor with indifferent effects raised him another
+      notch in their estimation. He was not always talking when some one else
+      wished to&mdash;another count. There remained about him that stoical
+      indifference to the petty; that observant nonchalance of the Indian; and
+      there was a suggestion, faint, it was true, of a dignity common to
+      chieftains. He was a log of grave deference which tossed on their sea of
+      mischievous hilarity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wore a pair of corduroy trousers, known to the care-free as &ldquo;pants,&rdquo;
+       which were held together by numerous patches of what had once been
+      brilliantly colored calico. A pair of suspenders, torn into two separate
+      straps, made a belt for himself and a collar for his dog. The trousers had
+      probably been secured during a fit of absent-mindedness on his part when
+      their former owner had not been looking. Tucked at intervals in the top of
+      the corduroys (the exceptions making convenient shelves for alkali dust)
+      was what at one time had been a stiff-bosomed shirt. This was open down
+      the front and back, the weight of the trousers on the belt holding it
+      firmly on the square shoulders of the wearer, thus precluding the
+      necessity of collar buttons. A pair of moccasins, beautifully worked with
+      wampum, protected his feet from the onslaughts of cacti and the
+      inquisitive and pugnacious sand flies; and lying across his lap was a
+      repeating Winchester rifle, not dangerous because it was empty, a
+      condition due to the wisdom of the citizens in forbidding any one to sell,
+      trade or give to him those tubes of concentrated trouble, because he could
+      get drunk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two were contented and happy. They had no cares nor duties, and their
+      pleasures were simple and easily secured, as they consisted of sleep and a
+      proneness to avoid moving. Like the untrammeled coyote, their bed was
+      where sleep overtook them; their food, what the night wrapped in a sense
+      of security, or the generosity of the cowboys of the Bar-20. No tub-ridden
+      Diogenes ever knew so little of responsibility or as much unadulterated
+      content. There is a penalty even to civilization and ambition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the sun had cast its shadows beyond By-and-by's feet the air became
+      charged with noise; shouts, shots and the rolling thunder of madly
+      pounding hoofs echoed flatly throughout the town. By-and-by yawned,
+      stretched and leaned back, reveling in the semi-conscious ecstasy of the
+      knowledge that he did not have to immediately get up. Fleas opened one eye
+      and cocked an ear in inquiry, and then rolled over on his back, squirmed
+      and sighed contentedly and long. The outfit of the Bar-20 had come to
+      town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The noise came rapidly nearer and increased in volume as the riders turned
+      the corner and drew rein suddenly, causing their mounts to slide on their
+      haunches in ankle-deep dust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, old Buck-with-th'-pants, how's yore liver?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come up an irrigate, old tank!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chase th' flea ranch an' trail along!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These were a few of the salutations discernible among the medley of
+      playful yells, the safety valves of supercharged good-nature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skr-e-e!&rdquo; yelled Hopalong Cassidy, letting off a fusillade of shots in
+      the vicinity of Fleas, who rapidly retreated around the corner, where he
+      wagged his tail in eager expectation. He was not disappointed, for a cow
+      pony tore around in pursuit and Hopalong leaned over and scratched the
+      yellow back, thumping it heartily, and, tossing a chunk of beef into the
+      open jaws of the delighted dog, departed as he had come. The advent of the
+      outfit meant a square meal, and the dog knew it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In Cowan's, lined up against the bar, the others were earnestly and
+      assiduously endeavoring, with a promise of success, to get By-and-by
+      drunk, which endeavors coincided perfectly with By-and-by's idea of the
+      fitness of things. The fellowship and the liquor combined to thaw out his
+      reserve and to loosen his tongue. After gazing with an air of injured
+      surprise at the genial loosening of his knees he gravely handed his rifle
+      with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, to the cowboy nearest him, and
+      wrapped his arms around the recipient to insure his balance. The rifle was
+      passed from hand to hand until it came to Buck Peters, who gravely
+      presented it to its owner as a new gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By-and-by threw out his stomach in an endeavor to keep his head in line
+      with his heels, and grasping the weapon with both hands turned to Cowan,
+      to whom he gave it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu hab this un. Me got two. Me keep new un, mebby so.&rdquo; Then he loosened
+      his belt and drank long and deep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A shadow darkened the doorway and Hopalong limped in. Spying By-and-by
+      pushing the bottle into his mouth, while Red Connors propped him, he
+      grinned and took out five silver dollars, which he jingled under
+      By-and-by's eyes, causing that worthy to lay aside the liquor and
+      erratically grab for the tantalizing fortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet, sabe?&rdquo; said Hopalong, changing the position of the money. &ldquo;If yu
+      wants to corral this here herd of simoleons yu has to ride a cayuse what
+      Red bet me yu can't ride. Yu has got to grow on that there saddle and
+      stayed growed for five whole minutes by Buck's ticker. I ain't a-goin' to
+      tell yu he's any saw-horse, for yu'd know better, as yu reckons Red
+      wouldn't bet on no losin' proposition if he knowed better, which same he
+      don't. Yu straddles that four-laigged cloudburst an' yu gets these, sabe?
+      I ain't seen th' cayuse yet that yu couldn't freeze to, an' I'm backin' my
+      opinions with my moral support an' one month's pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By-and-by's eyes began to glitter as the meaning of the words sifted
+      through his befuddled mind. Ride a horse&mdash;five dollars&mdash;ride a
+      five-dollars horse&mdash;horses ride dollars&mdash;then he straightened up
+      and began to speak in an incoherent jumble of Sioux and bad English. He,
+      the mighty rider of the Sioux; he, the bravest warrior and the greatest
+      hunter; could he ride a horse for five dollars? Well, he rather thought he
+      could. Grasping Red by the shoulder, he tacked for the door and narrowly
+      missed hitting the bottom step first, landing, as it happened, in the soft
+      dust with Red's leg around his neck. Somewhat sobered by the jar, he stood
+      up and apologized to the crowd for Red getting in the way, declaring that
+      Red was a &ldquo;Heap good un,&rdquo; and that he didn't mean to do it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The outfit of the Bar-20 was, perhaps, the most famous of all from Canada
+      to the Rio Grande. The foreman, Buck Peters, controlled a crowd of men
+      (who had all the instincts of boys) that had shown no quarter to many
+      rustlers, and who, while always carefree and easy-going (even fighting
+      with great good humor and carelessness), had established the reputation of
+      being the most reckless gang of daredevil gun-fighters that ever pounded
+      leather. Crooked gaming houses, from El Paso to Cheyenne and from Phoenix
+      to Leavenworth, unanimously and enthusiastically damned them from their
+      boots to their sombreros, and the sheriffs and marshals of many localities
+      had received from their hands most timely assistance&mdash;and some
+      trouble. Wiry, indomitable, boyish and generous, they were splendid
+      examples of virile manhood; and, surrounded as they were with great
+      dangers and a unique civilization, they should not, in justice, be judged
+      by opinions born of the commonplace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were real cowboys, which means, public opinion to the contrary
+      notwithstanding, that they were not lawless, nor drunken, shooting bullies
+      who held life cheaply, as their kin has been unjustly pictured; but while
+      these men were naturally peaceable they had to continually rub elbows with
+      men who were not. Gamblers, criminals, bullies and the riffraff that fled
+      from the protected East had drifted among them in great numbers, and it
+      was this class that caused the trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hardworking &ldquo;cow-punchers&rdquo; lived according to the law of the land, and
+      they obeyed that greatest of all laws, that of self-preservation. Their
+      fun was boisterous, but they paid for all the damage they inflicted; their
+      work was one continual hardship, and the reaction of one extreme swings
+      far toward the limit of its antithesis. Go back to the Apple if you would
+      trace the beginning of self-preservation and the need.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck Peters was a man of mild appearance, somewhat slow of speech and
+      correspondingly quick of action, who never became flurried. His was the
+      master hand that controlled, and his Colts enjoyed the reputation of never
+      missing when a hit could have been expected with reason. Many floods,
+      stampedes and blizzards had assailed his nerves, but he yet could pour a
+      glass of liquor, held at arm's length, through a knothole in the floor
+      without wetting the wood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next in age came Lanky Smith, a small, undersized man of retiring
+      disposition. Then came Skinny Thompson, six feet four on his bared soles,
+      and true to his name; Hopalong described him as &ldquo;th' shadow of a chalk
+      mark.&rdquo; Pete Wilson, the slow-witted and very taciturn, and Billy Williams,
+      the wavering pessimist, were of ordinary height and appearance. Red
+      Connors, with hair that shamed the name, was the possessor of a temper
+      which was as dry as tinder; his greatest weakness was his regard for the
+      rifle as a means of preserving peace. Johnny Nelson was the protege, and
+      he could do no wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The last, Hopalong Cassidy, was a combination of irresponsibility, humor,
+      good nature, love of fighting, and nonchalance when face to face with
+      danger. His most prominent attribute was that of always getting into
+      trouble without any intention of so doing; in fact, he was much aggrieved
+      and surprised when it came. It seemed as though when any &ldquo;bad man&rdquo; desired
+      to add to his reputation he invariably selected Hopalong as the means (a
+      fact due, perhaps, to the perversity of things in general). Bad men became
+      scarce soon after Hopalong became a fixture in any locality. He had been
+      crippled some years before in a successful attempt to prevent the
+      assassination of a friend, Sheriff Harris, of Albuquerque, and he still
+      possessed a limp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Red had relieved his feelings and had dug the alkali out of his ears
+      and eyes, he led the Sioux to the rear of the saloon, where a &ldquo;pinto&rdquo; was
+      busily engaged in endeavoring to pitch a saddle from his back, employing
+      the intervals in trying to see how much of the picket rope he could wrap
+      around his legs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When By-and-by saw what he was expected to ride he felt somewhat relieved,
+      for the pony did not appear to have more than the ordinary amount of
+      cussedness. He waved his hand, and Johnny and Red bandaged the animal's
+      eyes, which quieted him at once, and then they untangled the rope from
+      around his legs and saw that the cinches were secure. Motioning to
+      By-and-by that all was ready, they jerked the bandage off as the Indian
+      settled himself in the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had By-and-by been really sober he would have taken the conceit out of
+      that pony in chunks, and as it was he experienced no great difficulty in
+      holding his seat; but in his addled state of mind he grasped the end of
+      the cinch strap in such a way that when the pony jumped forward in its
+      last desperate effort the buckle slipped and the cinch became unfastened;
+      and By-and-by, still seated in the saddle, flew head foremost into the
+      horse trough, where he spilled much water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As this happened Cowan turned the corner, and when he saw the wasted water
+      (which he had to carry, bucketful at a time, from the wells a good quarter
+      of a mile away) his anger blazed forth, and yelling, he ran for the
+      drenched Sioux, who was just crawling out of his bath. When the
+      unfortunate saw the irate man bearing down on him he sputtered in rage and
+      fear, and, turning, he ran down the street, with Cowan thundering
+      flatfootedly behind on a fat man's gallop, to the hysterical cheers of the
+      delighted outfit, who saw in it nothing but a good joke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Cowan returned from his hopeless task, blowing and wheezing, he heard
+      sundry remarks, sotto voce, which were not calculated to increase his
+      opinion of his physical condition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; remarked the irrepressible Hopalong, &ldquo;that one of those
+      cayuses has got th' heaves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shore sounds like it,&rdquo; acquiesced Johnny, red in the face from holding
+      in his laughter, &ldquo;an' say, somebody interferes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All knock-kneed animals do, yu heathen,&rdquo; supplied Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu, let up on that and have a drink on th' house,&rdquo; invited Cowan.
+      &ldquo;If I gits that durn war whoop I'll make yu think there's been a cyclone.
+      I'll see how long that bum hangs around this here burg, I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red's eyes narrowed and his temper got the upper hand. &ldquo;He ain't no bum
+      when yu gives him rotgut at a quarter of a dollar a glass, is he? Any time
+      that 'bum' gits razzled out for nothin' more'n this, why, I goes too; an'
+      I ain't sayin' nothin' about goin' peaceable&mdash;like, neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knowed somethin' like this 'ud happen,&rdquo; dolefully sang out Billy
+      Williams, strong on the side of his pessimism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For th' Lord's sake, have you broke out?&rdquo; asked Red, disgustedly. &ldquo;I'm
+      goin' to hit the trail&mdash;but just keep this afore yore mind: if
+      By-and-by gits in any accidents or ain't in sight when I comes to town
+      again, this here climate'll be a heep sight hotter'n it is now. No hard
+      feelings, sabe? It's just a casual bit of advice. Come on, fellows, let's
+      amble&mdash;I'm hungry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they raced across the plain toward the ranch a pair of beady eyes,
+      snapping with a drunken rage, watched them from an arroyo; and when Cowan
+      entered the saloon the next morning he could not find By-and-by's rifle,
+      which he had placed behind the bar. He also missed a handful of cartridges
+      from the box near the cash drawer; and had he looked closely at his
+      bottled whisky he would have noticed a loss there. A horse was missing
+      from a Mexican's corral and there were rumors that several Indians had
+      been seen far out on the plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. The Law of the Range
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phew! I'm shore hungry,&rdquo; said Hopalong, as he and Red dismounted at the
+      ranch the next morning for breakfast. &ldquo;Wonder what's good for it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They's three things that's good for famine,&rdquo; said Red, leading the way to
+      the bunk house. &ldquo;Yu can pull in yore belt, yu can drink, an yu can eat.
+      Yore getting as bad as Johnny&mdash;but he's young yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others met their entrance with a volley of good-humored banter, some
+      of which was so personal and evoked such responses that it sounded like
+      the preliminary skirmish to a fight. But under all was that soft accent,
+      that drawl of humorous appreciation and eyes twinkling in suppressed
+      merriment. Here they were thoroughly at home and the spirit of comradeship
+      manifested itself in many subtle ways; the wit became more daring and
+      sharp, Billy lost some of his pessimism, and the alertness disappeared
+      from their manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Skinny left off romping with Red and yawned. &ldquo;I wish that cook'ud wake up
+      an' git breakfast. He's the cussedest hombre I ever saw&mdash;he kin go to
+      sleep standin' up an' not know it. Johnny's th' boy that worries him&mdash;th'
+      kid comes in an' whoops things up till he's gorged himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Johnny's got th' most appallin' feel for grub of anybody I knows,&rdquo; added
+      Red. &ldquo;I wonder what's keepin' him&mdash;he's usually hangin' around here
+      bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got th' fire
+      goin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby he rustled some grub out with him&mdash;I saw him tip-toein' out of
+      th' gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong,
+      glancing at Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy groaned and made for the gallery. Emerging half a minute later he
+      blurted out his tale of woe: &ldquo;Every time I blows myself an' don't drink it
+      all in town some slab-sided maverick freezes to it. It's gone,&rdquo; he added,
+      dismally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too bad, Billy&mdash;but what is it?&rdquo; asked Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? Wha'd yu think it was, you emaciated match? Jewelry? Cayuses?
+      It's whisky&mdash;two simoleons' worth. Some-thin's allus wrong. This here
+      whole yearth's wrong, just like that cross-eyed sky pilot said over to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will yu let up?&rdquo; Yelled Red, throwing a sombrero at the grumbling
+      unfortunate. &ldquo;Yu ask Buck where yore tanglefoot is.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd shore look nice askin' th' boss if he'd rustled my whisky, wouldn't
+      I? An' would yu mind throwin' somebody else's hat? I paid twenty wheels
+      for that eight years ago, and I don't want it mussed none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gee, yore easy! Why, Ah Sing, over at Albuquerque, gives them away every
+      time yu gits yore shirt washed,&rdquo; gravely interposed Hopalong as he went
+      out to cuss the cook.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what'd yu think of that?&rdquo; Exclaimed Billy in an injured tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yu needn't be hikin' for Albuquerque&mdash;WasheeWashee'ud charge yu
+      double for washin' yore shirt. Yu ought to fall in di' river some day&mdash;then
+      he might talk business,&rdquo; called Hopalong over his shoulder as he heaved an
+      old boot into the gallery. &ldquo;Hey, yu hibernatin' son of morphine, if yu
+      don't git them flapjacks in here pretty sudden-like I'll scatter yu all
+      over di' landscape, sabe? Yu just wait till Johnny comes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonder where th' kid is?&rdquo; asked Lanky, rolling a cigarette. &ldquo;Off
+      somewhere lookin' at di' sun through di' bottom of my bottle,&rdquo; grumbled
+      Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong started to go out, but halted on the sill and looked steadily off
+      toward the northwest. &ldquo;That's funny. Hey, fellows, here comes Buck an'
+      Johnny ridin' double&mdash;on a walk, too!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Wonder what th'&mdash;thunder!
+      Red, Buck's carryun' him! Somethin's busted!&rdquo; he yelled, as he dashed for
+      his pony and made for the newcomers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told yu he was hittin' my bottle,&rdquo; pertly remarked Billy, as he
+      followed the rest outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu ever see Johnny drunk? Did yu ever see him drink more'n two
+      glasses? Shut yore wailin' face&mdash;they's somethin' worse'n that in
+      this here,&rdquo; said Red, his temper rising. &ldquo;Hopalong an' me took yore cheap
+      liquor&mdash;it's under Pete's bunk,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The trio approached on a walk and Johnny, delirious and covered with
+      blood, was carried into the bunk house. Buck waited until all had
+      assembled again and then, his face dark with anger, spoke sharply and
+      without the usual drawl: &ldquo;Skragged from behind, blast them! Get some grub
+      an' water an' be quick. We'll see who the gent with th' grudge is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this point the expostulations of the indignant cook, who, not
+      understanding the cause, regarded the invasion of china shop bulls as
+      sacrilegious, came to his ears. Striding quickly to the door, he grabbed
+      the pan the Mexican was about to throw and, turning the now frightened man
+      around, thundered, &ldquo;Keep quiet an' get 'em some grub.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When rifles and ammunition had been secured they mounted and followed him
+      at a hard gallop along the back trail. No words were spoken, for none were
+      necessary. All knew that they would not return until they had found the
+      man for whom they were looking, even if the chase led to Canada. They did
+      not ask Buck for any of the particulars, for the foreman was not in the
+      humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong, whose curiosity was always on edge,
+      recognized only two facts and cared for nothing else: Johnny had been
+      ambushed and they were going to get the one who was responsible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail
+      would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who or what he
+      was&mdash;there was only one course to take with an assassin. So they said
+      nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the seven ponies
+      breast to breast in a close arc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap. As they approached
+      it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body had lain there
+      huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked alkali. The trail they
+      followed was now single, Buck having ridden along the bank of the arroyo
+      when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had orders. This trail was very
+      irregular, as if the horse had wandered at will. Suddenly they came upon
+      five tracks, all pointing one way, and four of these turned abruptly and
+      disappeared in the northwest. Half a mile beyond the point of separation
+      was a chaparral, which was an important factor to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each man knew just what had taken place as if he had been an eyewitness,
+      for the trail was plain. The assassins had waited in the chaparral for
+      Johnny to pass, probably having seen him riding that way. When he had
+      passed and his back had been turned to them they had fired and wounded him
+      severely at the first volley, for Johnny was of the stuff that fights back
+      and his revolvers had showed full chambers and clean barrels when Red had
+      examined them in the bunk house. Then they had given chase for a short
+      distance and, from some inexplicable motive, probably fear, they had
+      turned and ridden off without knowing how bad he was hit. It was this
+      trail that led to the northwest, and it was this trail that they followed
+      without pausing.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+When they had covered fifty miles they sighted the Cross Bar O ranch
+where they hoped to secure fresh mounts. As they rode up to the ranch
+house the owner, Bud Wallace, came around the corner and saw them.
+
+ &ldquo;Hullo, boys! What deviltry are yu up to now?&rdquo; he asked.  Buck
+leaped from his mount, followed by the others, and shoved his sombrero
+back on his head as he started to remove the saddle.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're trailin' a bunch of murderers. They ambushed Johnny an' blame near
+      killed him. I stopped here to get fresh cayuses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu did right!&rdquo; replied Wallace heartily. Then raising his voice he
+      shouted to some of his men who were near the corral to bring up the seven
+      best horses they could rope. Then he told the cook to bring out plenty of
+      food and drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got four punchers what ain't doin' nothin' but eat,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much obliged, Wallace, but there's only four of 'em, an' we'd rather get
+      'em ourselves&mdash;Johnny'ud feel better,&rdquo; replied Buck, throwing his
+      saddle on the horse that was led up to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How's yore cartridges&mdash;got plenty?&rdquo; Persisted Wallace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two hundred apiece,&rdquo; responded Buck, springing into his saddle and riding
+      off. &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; he called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long, an' plug blazes out of them,&rdquo; shouted Wallace as the dust swept
+      over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At five in the afternoon they forded the Black River at a point where it
+      crossed the state line from New Mexico, and at dusk camped at the base of
+      the Guadalupe Mountains. At daybreak they took up the chase, grim and
+      merciless, and shortly afterward they passed the smoldering remains of a
+      camp fire, showing that the pursued had been in a great hurry, for it
+      should have been put out and masked. At noon they left the mountains to
+      the rear and sighted the Barred Horeshoe, which they approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The owner of the ranch saw them coming, and from their appearance surmised
+      that something was wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; He shouted. &ldquo;Rustlers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. Murderers. I wants to swap cayuses quick,&rdquo; answered Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There they are. Th' boys just brought 'em in. Anything else I can let yu
+      have?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope,&rdquo; shouted Buck as they galloped off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somebody's goin' to get plugged full of holes,&rdquo; murmured the ranch owner
+      as he watched them kicking up the dust in huge clouds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After they had forded a tributary of the Rio Penasco near the Sacramento
+      Mountains and had surmounted the opposite bank, Hopalong spurred his horse
+      to the top of a hummock and swept the plain with Pete's field glasses,
+      which he had borrowed for the occasion, and returned to the rest, who had
+      kept on without slacking the pace. As he took up his former position he
+      grunted, &ldquo;War-whoops,&rdquo; and unslung his rifle, an example followed by the
+      others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ponies were now running at top speed, and as they shot over a rise
+      their riders saw their quarry a mile and a half in advance. One of the
+      Indians looked back and discharged his rifle in defiance, and it now
+      became a race worthy of the name&mdash;Death fled from Death. The fresher
+      mounts of the cowboys steadily cut down the distance and, as the rifles of
+      the pursuers began to speak, the hard-pressed Indians made for the smaller
+      of two knolls, the plain leading to the larger one being too heavily
+      strewn with bowlders to permit speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the fugitives settled down behind the rocks which fringed the edge of
+      their elevation a shot from one of them disabled Billy's arm, but had no
+      other effect than to increase the score to be settled. The pursuers rode
+      behind a rise and dismounted, from where, leaving their mounts protected,
+      they scattered out to surround the knoll.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong, true to his curiosity, finally turned up on the highest point of
+      the other knoll, a spur of the range in the west, for he always wanted to
+      see all he could. Skinny, due to his fighting instinct, settled one
+      hundred yards to the north and on the same spur. Buck lay hidden behind an
+      enormous bowlder eight hundred yards to the northeast of Skinny, and the
+      same distance southeast of Buck was Red Connors, who was crawling up the
+      bed of an arroyo. Billy, nursing his arm, lay in front of the horses, and
+      Pete, from his position between Billy and Hopalong, was crawling from rock
+      to rock in an endeavor to get near enough to use his Colts, his favorite
+      and most effective weapons. Intermittent puffs of smoke arising from a
+      point between Skinny and Buck showed where Lanky Smith was improving each
+      shining hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been no directions given, each man choosing his own position,
+      yet each was of strategic worth. Billy protected the horses, Hopalong and
+      Skinny swept the knoll with a plunging fire, and Lanky and Buck lay in the
+      course the besieged would most likely take if they tried a dash. Off to
+      the east Red barred them from creeping down the arroyo, and from where
+      Pete was he could creep up to within sixty yards if he chose the right
+      rocks. The ranges varied from four hundred yards for Buck to sixty for
+      Pete, and the others averaged close to three hundred, which allowed very
+      good shooting on both sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong and Skinny gradually moved nearer to each other for
+      companionship, and as the former raised his head to see what the others
+      were doing he received a graze on the ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wow!&rdquo; he yelled, rubbing the tingling member.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two puffs of smoke floated up from the knoll, and Skinny swore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where'd he get yu, Fat?&rdquo; asked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'wan, don't get funny, son,&rdquo; replied Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jets of smoke arose from the north and east, where Buck and Red were
+      stationed, and Pete was half way to the knoll. So far he hadn't been hit
+      as he dodged in and out, and, emboldened by his luck, he made a run of
+      five yards and his sombrero was shot from his head. Another dash and his
+      empty holster was ripped from its support. As he crouched behind a rock he
+      heard a yell from Hopalong, and saw that interested individual waving his
+      sombrero to cheer him on. An angry pang! from the knoll caused that
+      enthusiastic rooter to drop for safety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Locoed son-of-a-gun,&rdquo; complained Pete. &ldquo;He'll shore git potted.&rdquo; Then he
+      glanced at Billy, who was the center of several successive spurts of dust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How's business, Billy?&rdquo; he called pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they'll git me yet,&rdquo; responded the pessimist. &ldquo;Yu needn't git
+      anxious. If that off buck wasn't so green he'd 'a' had me long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-hoo! Pete! Oh, Pete!&rdquo; called Hopalong, sticking his head out at one
+      side and grinning as the wondering object of his hail craned his neck to
+      see what the matter was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh?&rdquo; grunted Pete, and then remembering the distance he shouted, &ldquo;What's
+      th' matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got any cigarettes?&rdquo; asked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu poor sheep!&rdquo; said Pete, and turning back to work he drove a .45 into a
+      yellow moccasin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong began to itch and he saw that he was near an ant hill. Then the
+      cactus at his right boomed out mournfully and a hole appeared in it. He
+      fired at the smoke and a yell informed him that he had made a hit. &ldquo;Go
+      'way!&rdquo; he complained as a green fly buzzed past his nose. Then he
+      scratched each leg with the foot of the other and squirmed incessantly,
+      kicking out with both feet at once. A warning metallic whir-r-r! on his
+      left caused to yank them in again, and turning his head quickly he the
+      pleasure of lopping off the head of a rattlesnake with his Colt's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad yu wasn't a copperhead,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Somebody had ought 'a' shot
+      that fool Noah. Blast the ants!&rdquo; He drowned with a jet of tobacco juice a
+      Gila monster that was staring at him and took a savage delight in its
+      frantic efforts to bury itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon he heard Skinny swear and he sung out: &ldquo;What's the matter, Skinny?
+      Git plugged again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naw, bugs&mdash;ain't they mean?&rdquo; Plaintively asked his friend. &ldquo;They
+      ain't none over here. What kind of bugs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sufferin' Moses, I ain't no bugologist! All kinds!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Hopalong got it at last. He had found tobacco and rolled a cigarette,
+      and in reaching for a match exposed his shoulder to a shot that broke his
+      collar bone. Skinny's rifle cracked in reply and the offending brave
+      rolled out from behind a rock. From the fuss emanating from Hopalong's
+      direction Skinny knew that his neighbor had been hit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't yu care, Hoppy. I got th' cuss,&rdquo; he said consolingly. &ldquo;Where'd he
+      git yu?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In di' heart, yu pie-faced nuisance. Come over here an' corral this
+      cussed bandage an' gimme some water,&rdquo; snapped the injured man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Skinny wormed his way through the thorny chaparral and bound up the
+      shoulder. &ldquo;Anything else?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Shoot that bunch of warts an' blow that tobacco-eyed Gila to
+      Cheyenne. This here's worse than the time we cleaned out th' C 80 outfit!&rdquo;
+       Then he kicked the dead toad and swore at the sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Close yore yap; yore worse than a kid! Anybody'd think yu never got
+      plugged afore,&rdquo; said Skinny indignantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can cuss all I wants,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, proving his assertion as he
+      grabbed his gun and fired at the dead Indian. A bullet whined above his
+      head and Skinny fired at the smoke. He peeped out and saw that his friends
+      were getting nearer to the knoll.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They's closin' in now. We'll soon be gittin' home,&rdquo; he reported.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong looked out in time to see Buck make a dash for a bowlder that lay
+      ten yards in front of him, which he reached in safety. Lanky also ran in
+      and Pete added five more yards to his advance. Buck made another dash, but
+      leaped into the air, and, coming down as if from an intentional high jump,
+      staggered and stumbled for a few paces and then fell flat, rolling over
+      and over toward the shelter of a split rock, where he lay quiet. A leering
+      red face peered over the rocks on the knoll, but the whoop of exultation
+      was cut short, for Red's rifle cracked and the warrior rolled down the
+      steep bank, where another shot from the same gun settled him beyond
+      question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong choked and, turning his face away, angrily dashed his knuckles
+      into his eyes. &ldquo;Blast 'em! Blast 'em! They've got Buck! They've got Buck,
+      blast 'em! They've got Buck, Skinny! Good old Buck! They've got him!
+      Jimmy's gone, Johnny's plugged, and now Buck's gone! Come on!&rdquo; he sobbed
+      in a frenzy of vengeance. &ldquo;Come on, Skinny! We'll tear their cussed hides
+      into a deeper red than they are now! Oh, blast it, I can't see&mdash;where's
+      my gun?&rdquo; He groped for the rifle and fought Skinny when the latter,
+      red-eyed but cool, endeavored to restrain him. &ldquo;Lemme go, curse yu! Don't
+      yu know they got Buck? Lemme go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Down! Red's got di' skunk. Yu can't do nothin'&mdash;they'd drop yu afore
+      yu took five steps. Red's got him, I tell yu! Do yu want me to lick yu?
+      We'll pay 'em back with interest if yu'll keep yore head!&rdquo; exclaimed
+      Skinny, throwing the crazed man heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Musical tones, rising and falling in weird octaves, whining pityingly,
+      diabolically, sobbing in a fascinating monotone and slobbering in ragged
+      chords, calling as they swept over the plain, always calling and
+      exhorting, they mingled in barbaric discord with the defiant barks of the
+      six-shooters and the inquiring cracks of the Winchesters. High up in the
+      air several specks sailed and drifted, more coming up rapidly from all
+      directions. Buzzards know well where food can be found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Hopalong leaned back against a rock he was hit in the thigh by a
+      ricochet that tore its way out, whirling like a circular saw, a span above
+      where it entered. The wound was very nasty, being ripped twice the size
+      made by an ordinary shot, and it bled profusely. Skinny crawled over and
+      attended to it, making a tourniquet of his neckerchief and clumsily
+      bandaging it with a strip torn from his shirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore lucky, yu are,&rdquo; he grumbled as he made his way back to his
+      post, where he vented his rancor by emptying the semi-depleted magazine of
+      his Winchester at the knoll.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong began to sing and shout and he talked of Jimmy and his childhood,
+      interspersing the broken narrative with choice selections as sung in the
+      music halls of Leavenworth and Abilene. He wound up by yelling and
+      struggling, and Skinny had his hands full in holding him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hopalong! Cassidy! Come out of that! Keep quiet&mdash;yu'll shore git
+      plugged if yu don't stop that plungin'. For gosh sake, did yu hear that?&rdquo;
+       A bullet viciously hissed between them and flattened out on a near-by
+      rock; others cut their way through the chaparral to the sound of falling
+      twigs, and Skinny threw himself on the struggling man and strapped
+      Hopalong with his belt to the base of a honey mesquite that grew at his
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold still, now, and let that bandage alone. Yu allus goes off di' range
+      when yu gets plugged,&rdquo; he complained. He cut down a cactus and poured the
+      sap over the wounded man's face, causing him to gurgle and look around.
+      His eyes had a sane look now and Skinny slid off his chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Git that&mdash;belt loose; I ain't&mdash;no cow,&rdquo; brokenly blazed out the
+      picketed Hopalong. Skinny did so, handed the irate man his Colts and
+      returned to his own post, from where he fired twice, reporting the shots.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm tryin' to get him on th' glance' first one went high an' th' other
+      fell flat,&rdquo; he explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong listened eagerly, for this was shooting that he could appreciate.
+      &ldquo;Lemme see,&rdquo; he commanded. Skinny dragged him over to a crack and settled
+      down for another try.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he, Skinny?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behind that second big one. No, over on this here side. See that smooth
+      granite? If I can get her there on th' right spot he'll shore know it.&rdquo; He
+      aimed carefully and fired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through Pete's glasses Hopalong saw a leaden splotch appear on the rock
+      and he notified the marksman that he was shooting high. &ldquo;Put her on that
+      bump closer down,&rdquo; he suggested. Skinny did so and another yell reached
+      their ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a dandy. Yore shore all right, yu old cuss,&rdquo; complimented
+      Hopalong, elated at the success of the experiment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Skinny fired again and a brown arm flopped out into sight. Another shot
+      struck it and it jerked as though it were lifeless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's cashed. See how she jumped? Like a rope,&rdquo; remarked Skinny with a
+      grin. The arm lay quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pete had gained his last cover and was all eyes and Colts. Lanky was also
+      very close in and was intently watching one particular rock. Several shots
+      echoed from the far side of the knoll and they knew that Red was all
+      right. Billy was covering a cluster of rocks that protruded above the
+      others and, as they looked, his rifle rang out and the last defender
+      leaped down and disappeared in the chaparral. He wore yellow trousers and
+      an old boiled shirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By an'-by, by all that's bad!&rdquo; yelled Hopalong. &ldquo;Th' measly coyote! An'
+      me a-fillin' his ornery hide with liquor. Well, they'll have to find him
+      all over again now,&rdquo; he complained, astounded by the revelation. He fired
+      into the chaparral to express his pugnacious disgust and scared out a huge
+      tarantula, which alighted on Skinny's chaps, crawling rapidly toward the
+      unconscious man's neck. Hopalong's face hardened and he slowly covered the
+      insect and fired, driving it into the sand, torn and lifeless. The bullet
+      touched the leathern garment and Skinny remonstrated, knowing that
+      Hopalong was in no condition for fancy shooting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh!&rdquo; exclaimed Hopalong. &ldquo;That was a tarantula what I plugged. He was
+      headin' for yore neck,&rdquo; he explained, watching the chaparral with
+      apprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go 'way, was it? Bully for yu!&rdquo; exclaimed Skinny, tarantulas being placed
+      at par with rattlesnakes, and he considered that he had been saved from a
+      horrible death. &ldquo;Thought yu said they wasn't no bugs over here,&rdquo; he added
+      in an aggrieved tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They wasn't none. Yu brought 'em. I only had th' main show&mdash;Gilas,
+      rattlers an' toads,&rdquo; he replied, and then added, &ldquo;Ain't it cussed hot up
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is. Yu won't have no cinch ridin' home with that leg. Yu better take
+      my cayuse&mdash;he's busted more'n yourn,&rdquo; responded Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore cayuse is at th' Cross Bar O, yu wall-eyed pirute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore 'nuff. Funny how a feller forgets sometimes. Lemme alone now,
+      they's goin' to git By-an'-by. Pete an' Lanky has just went in after him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That was what had occurred. The two impatient punchers, had grown tired of
+      waiting, and risked what might easily have been death in order to hasten
+      matters. The others kept up a rapid fire, directed at the far end of the
+      chaparral on the knoll, in order to mask the movements of their
+      venturesome friends, intending also to drive By-and-by toward them so that
+      he would be the one to get picked off as he advanced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several shots rang out in quick succession on the knoll and the chaparral
+      became agitated. Several more shots sounded from the depth of the thicket
+      and a mounted Indian dashed out of the northern edge and headed in Buck's
+      direction. His course would take him close to Buck, whom he had seen fall,
+      and would let him escape at a point midway between Red and Skinny, as
+      Lanky was on the knoll and the range was very far to allow effective
+      shooting by these two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red saw him leave the chaparral and in his haste to reload jammed the
+      cartridge, and By-and-by swept on toward temporary safety, with Red
+      dancing in a paroxysm of rage, swelling his vocabulary with words he had
+      forgotten existed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By-and-by, rising to his full height in the saddle, turned and wiggled his
+      fingers at the frenzied Red and made several other signs that the cowboy
+      was in the humor to appreciate to the fullest extent. Then he turned and
+      shook his rifle at the marksmen on the larger knoll, whose best shots
+      kicked up the dust fully fifty yards too short. The pony was sweeping
+      toward the reservation and friends only fifteen miles away, and By-and-by
+      knew that once among the mountains he would be on equal footing at least
+      with his enemies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he passed the rock behind which Buck lay sprawled on his face he
+      uttered a piercing whoop of triumph and leaned forward on his pony's neck.
+      Twenty leaps farther and the spiteful crack of a rifle echoed from where
+      the foreman was painfully supporting himself on his elbows. The pony swept
+      on in a spurt of nerve-racking speed, but alone. By-and-by shrieked again
+      and crashed heavily to the ground, where he rolled inertly and then lay
+      still. Men like Buck are dangerous until their hearts have ceased to beat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. Trials of the Convalescent
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The days at the ranch passed in irritating idleness for those who had
+      obstructed the flight of hostile lead, and worse than any of the patients
+      was Hopalong, who fretted and fumed at his helplessness, which retarded
+      his recovery. But at last the day came when he was fit for the saddle
+      again, and he gave notice of his joy in whoops and forthwith announced
+      that he was entitled to a holiday; and Buck had not the heart to refuse
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So he started forth in his quest of peace and pleasure, but instead had
+      found only trouble and had been forced to leave his card at almost every
+      place he had visited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was that affair in Red Hot Gulch, Colorado, where, under pressure,
+      he had invested sundry pieces of lead in the persons of several
+      obstreperous citizens and then had paced the zealous and excitable sheriff
+      to the state line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He next was noticed in Cheyenne, where his deformity was vividly dwelt
+      upon, to the extent of six words, by one Tarantula Charley, the aforesaid
+      Charley not being able to proceed to greater length on account of heart
+      failure. As Charley had been a ubiquitous nuisance, those present availed
+      themselves of the opportunity offered by Hopalong to indulge in a free
+      drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Laramie was his next stopping place, and shortly after his arrival he was
+      requested to sing and dance by a local terror, who informed all present
+      that he was the only seventeen-buttoned rattlesnake in the cow country.
+      Hopalong, hurt and indignant at being treated like a common tenderfoot,
+      promptly knocked the terror down. After he had irrigated several square
+      feet of parched throats belonging to the audience he again took up his
+      journey and spent a day at Denver, where he managed to avoid any further
+      trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Santa Fe loomed up before him several days later and he entered it shortly
+      before noon. At this time the old Spanish city was a bundle of high-strung
+      nerves, and certain parts of it were calculated to furnish any and all
+      kinds of excitement except revival meetings and church fairs. Hopalong
+      straddled a lively nerve before he had been in the city an hour. Two local
+      bad men, Slim Travennes and Tex Ewalt, desiring to establish the fact that
+      they were roaring prairie fires, attempted to consume the placid and
+      innocent stranger as he limped across the plaza in search of a game of
+      draw poker at the Black Hills Emporium, with the result that they needed
+      repairs, to the chagrin and disgust of their immediate acquaintances, who
+      endeavored to drown their mortification and sorrow in rapid but somewhat
+      wild gun play, and soon remembered that they had pressing engagements
+      elsewhere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong reloaded his guns and proceeded to the Emporium, where he found a
+      game all prepared for him in every sense of the word. On the third deal he
+      objected to the way in which the dealer manipulated the cards, and when
+      the smoke cleared away he was the only occupant of the room, except a dog
+      belonging to the bartender that had intercepted a stray bullet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hunting up the owner of the hound, he apologized for being the indirect
+      cause of the animal's death, deposited a sum of Mexican dollars in that
+      gentleman's palm and went on his way to Alameda, which he entered shortly
+      after dark, and where an insult, simmering in its uncalled-for venom, met
+      him as he limped across the floor of the local dispensary on his way to
+      the bar. There was no time for verbal argument and precedent had
+      established the manner of his reply, and his repartee was as quick as
+      light and most effective. Having resented the epithets he gave his
+      attention to the occupants of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smoke drifted over the table in an agitated cloud and dribbled lazily
+      upward from the muzzle of his six-shooter, while he looked searchingly at
+      those around him. Strained and eager faces peered at his opponent, who was
+      sliding slowly forward in his chair, and for the length of a minute no
+      sound but the guarded breathing of the onlookers could be heard. This was
+      broken by a nervous cough from the rear of the room, and the faces assumed
+      their ordinary nonchalant expressions, their rugged lines heavily shadowed
+      in the light of the flickering oil lamps, while the shuffling of cards and
+      the clink of silver became audible. Hopalong Cassidy had objected to
+      insulting remarks about his affliction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong was very sensitive about his crippled leg and was always prompt
+      to resent any scorn or curiosity directed at it, especially when emanating
+      from strangers. A young man of twenty-three years, when surrounded by
+      nearly perfect specimens of physical manhood, is apt to be painfully
+      self-conscious of any such defect, and it reacted on his nature at times,
+      even though he was well-known for his happy-go-lucky disposition and
+      playfulness. He consoled himself with the knowledge that what he lost in
+      symmetry was more than balanced by the celerity and certainty of his gun
+      hand, which was right or left, or both, as the occasion demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several hours later, as his luck was vacillating, he felt a heavy hand on
+      his shoulder, and was overjoyed at seeing Buck and Red, the latter
+      grinning as only Red could grin, and he withdrew from the game to enjoy
+      his good fortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Hopalong had been wandering over the country the two friends had
+      been hunting for him and had traced him successfully, that being due to
+      the trail he had blazed with his six-shooters. This they had accomplished
+      without harm to themselves, as those of whom they inquired thought that
+      they must want Hopalong &ldquo;bad,&rdquo; and cheerfully gave the information
+      required.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had started out more for the purpose of accompanying him for
+      pleasure, but that had changed to an urgent necessity in the following
+      manner:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While on the way from Denver to Santa Fe they had met Pete Willis of the
+      Three Triangle, a ranch that adjoined their own, and they paused to pass
+      the compliments of the season.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Purty far from th' grub wagon, Pie,&rdquo; remarked Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm only goin' to Denver,&rdquo; responded Pie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Purty hot,&rdquo; suggested Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She shore is. Seen anybody yu knows?&rdquo; Pie asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One or two&mdash;Billy of th' Star Crescent an' Panhandle Lukins,&rdquo;
+       answered Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year. I'll hunt him up. I
+      heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his brothers are
+      lookin' for trouble,&rdquo; offered Pie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah! They ain't lookin' for no trouble&mdash;they just goes around
+      blowin' off. Trouble? Why, they don't know what she is,&rdquo; remarked Red
+      contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they's been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' if that
+      ain't trouble I don't know what is,&rdquo; said Pie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shore is, an' hard to dodge,&rdquo; acquiesced Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I has to amble. Is Panhandle in Denver? Yes? I calculates as how me
+      an' him'll buck th' tiger for a whirl&mdash;he's shore lucky. Well, so
+      long,&rdquo; said Pie as he moved on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; responded the two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, wait a minute,&rdquo; yelled Pie after he had ridden a hundred yards. &ldquo;If
+      yu sees Hopalong yu might tell him that th' Joneses are goin' to hunt him
+      up when they gits to Albuquerque. They's shore sore on him. 'Tain't none
+      of my funeral, only they ain't always a-carin' how they goes after a
+      feller. So long,&rdquo; and soon he was a cloud of dust on the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trouble!&rdquo; snorted Red; &ldquo;well, between dodgin' Harris an' huntin' Hopalong
+      I reckons they'll shore find her.&rdquo; Then to himself he murmured, &ldquo;Funny how
+      everythin' comes his way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's gospel shore enough, but, as Pie said, they ain't a whole lot
+      particular as how they deal th' cards. We better get a move on an' find
+      that ornery little cuss,&rdquo; replied Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy. His gun's too lively for
+      me to do any worryin',&rdquo; asserted Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'll get lynched some time, shore,&rdquo; declared Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not if they find Hoppy,&rdquo; grimly replied Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their
+      throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where
+      they found Hopalong in the manner narrated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque, twelve
+      miles to the south. At ten o'clock they dismounted before the Nugget and
+      Rope, an unpainted wooden building supposed to be a clever combination of
+      barroom, dance and gambling hall and hotel. The cleverness lay in the man
+      who could find the hotel part.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. The Open Door
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being
+      troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose of
+      inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for obvious
+      reasons. Probably not one man in ten was fortunate enough to have no one
+      &ldquo;looking for him,&rdquo; and the lighted interior assured good hunting to any
+      one in the dark street. He was continually opening the door, which every
+      newcomer promptly and forcibly slammed shut. When he saw men walk across
+      the room for the express purpose of slamming it he began to cherish the
+      idea that there was a conspiracy on foot to anger him and thus force him
+      to bring about his own death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After the door had been slammed three times in one evening by one man, the
+      last slam being so forcible as to shake two bottles from the shelf and to
+      crack the door itself, he became positive that his suspicions were
+      correct, and so was very careful to smile and take it as a joke. Finally,
+      wearied by his vain efforts to keep it open and fearing for the door, he
+      hit upon a scheme, the brilliancy of which inflated his chest and gave him
+      the appearance of a prize-winning bantam. When his patrons strolled in
+      that night there was no door to slam, as it lay behind the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Buck and Red entered, closely followed by Hopalong, they elbowed
+      their way to the rear of the room, where they could see before being seen.
+      As yet they had said nothing to Hopalong about Pie's warning and were
+      debating in their minds whether they should do so or not, when Hopalong
+      interrupted their thoughts by laughing. They looked up and he nodded
+      toward the front, where they saw that anxious eyes from all parts of the
+      room were focused on the open door. Then they noticed that it had been
+      removed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The air of semi-hostile, semi-anxious inquiry of the patrons and the smile
+      of satisfaction covering the face of Baum appealed to them as the most
+      ludicrous sight their eyes had seen for months, and they leaned back and
+      roared with laughter, thus calling forth sundry looks of disapproval from
+      the innocent causes of their merriment. But they were too well known in
+      Albuquerque to allow the disapproval to approach a serious end, and
+      finally, as the humorous side of the situation dawned on the crowd, they
+      joined in the laugh and all went merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the psychologic moment some one shouted for a dance and the suggestion
+      met with uproarious approval. At that moment Harris, the sheriff, came in
+      and volunteered to supply the necessary music if the crowd would pay the
+      fine against a straying fiddler he had corraled the day before. A hat was
+      quickly passed and a sum was realized which would pay several fines to
+      come and Harris departed for the music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A chair was placed on the bar for the musician and, to the tune of &ldquo;Old
+      Dan Tucker&rdquo; and an assortment of similar airs, the board floor shook and
+      trembled. It was a comical sight and Hopalong, the only wallflower besides
+      Baum and the sheriff, laughed until he became weak. Cow punchers play as
+      they work, hard and earnestly, and there was plenty of action. Sombreros
+      flapped like huge wings and the baggy chaps looked like small, distorted
+      balloons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Virginia reel was a marvel of supple, exaggerated grace and the
+      quadrille looked like a free-for-all for unbroken colts. The honor of
+      prompter was conferred upon the sheriff, and he gravely called the changes
+      as they were usually called in that section of the country:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;Oh, th' ladies trail in
+      An' th' gents trail out,
+   An' all stampede down th' middle.
+      If yu ain't got th' tin
+         Yu can dance an' shout,
+   But yu must keep up with th' fiddle.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      As the dance waxed faster and the dancers grew hotter Hopalong, feeling
+      lonesome because he wouldn't face ridicule, even if it was not expressed,
+      went over and stood by the sheriff. He and Harris were good friends, for
+      he had received the wound that crippled him in saving the sheriff from
+      assassination. Harris killed the man who had fired that shot, and from
+      this episode on the burning desert grew a friendship that was as strong as
+      their own natures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harris was very well liked by the majority and feared by the rest, for he
+      was a square man and the best sheriff the county had ever known. Quiet and
+      unassuming, small of stature and with a kind word for every one, he was a
+      universal favorite among the better class of citizens. Quick as a flash
+      and unerring in his shooting, he was a nightmare to the &ldquo;bad men.&rdquo; No
+      profane word had ever been known to leave his lips, and he was the
+      possessor of a widespread reputation for generosity. His face was
+      naturally frank and open; but when his eyes narrowed with determination it
+      became blank and cold. When he saw his young friend sidle over to him he
+      smiled and nodded a hearty welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They's shore cuttin' her loose,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First two pairs forward an' back!&mdash;they shore is,&rdquo; responded the
+      prompter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's th' gent playin' lady to Buck?&rdquo; Queried Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forward again an' ladies change!&mdash;Billy Jordan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong watched the couple until they swung around and then he laughed
+      silently. &ldquo;Buck's got too many feet,&rdquo; he seriously remarked to his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Swing th' girl yu loves th' best!&mdash;he ain't lonesome, look at that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two shots rang out in quick succession and Harris stumbled, wheeled and
+      pitched forward on his face as Hopalong's sombrero spun across his body.
+      For a second there was an intense silence, heavy, strained and sickening.
+      Then a roar broke forth and the crowd of frenzied merry-makers, headed by
+      Hopalong, poured out into the street and spread out to search the town. As
+      daylight dawned the searchers began to straggle back with the same report
+      of failure. Buck and Red met on the street near the door and each looked
+      questioningly at the other. Each shook his head and looked around, their
+      fingers toying absentmindedly at their belts. Finally Buck cleared his
+      throat and remarked casually,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby he's following 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red nodded and they went over toward their horses. As they were hesitating
+      which route to take, Billy Jordan came up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby yu'd like to see yore pardner&mdash;he's out by Buzzard's Spring.
+      We'll take care of him,&rdquo; jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the
+      saloon where Harris's body lay. &ldquo;And we'll all git th' others later. They
+      cain't git away for long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck and Red nodded and headed for Buzzard's Spring. As they neared the
+      water hole they saw Hopalong sitting on a rock, his head resting in one
+      hand while the other hung loosely from his knee. He did not notice them
+      when they arrived, and with a ready tact they sat quietly on their horses
+      and looked in every direction except toward him. The sun became a ball of
+      molten fire and the sand flies annoyed them incessantly, but still they
+      sat and waited, silent and apologetic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong finally arose, reached for his sombrero, and, finding it gone,
+      swore long and earnestly at the scene its loss brought before him. He
+      walked over to his horse and, leaping into the saddle, turned and faced
+      his friends. &ldquo;Yu old sons-of-guns,&rdquo; he said. They looked sheepish and
+      nodded negatively in answer to the look of inquiry in his eyes. &ldquo;They
+      ain't got 'em yet,&rdquo; remarked Red slowly. Hopalong straightened up, his
+      eyes narrowed and his face became hard and resolute as he led the way back
+      toward the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck rode up beside him and, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, began
+      to speak to Red. &ldquo;We might look up th' Joneses, Red. They had been dodgin'
+      th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' they was huntin' Hopalong. Ever since
+      we had to kill their brother in Buckskin they has been yappin' as how they
+      was goin' to wipe us out. Hopalong an' Harris was standin' clost together
+      an' they tried for both. They shot twice, one for Harris an' one for
+      Hopalong, an' what more do yu want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shore looks thataway, Buck,&rdquo; replied Red, biting into a huge plug of
+      tobacco which he produced from his chaps. &ldquo;Anyhow, they wouldn't be no
+      loss if they didn't. Member what Pie said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong looked straight ahead, and when he spoke the words sounded as
+      though he had bitten them off: &ldquo;Yore right, Buck, but I gits first try at
+      Thirsty. He's my meat an' I'll plug th' fellow what says he ain't. Damn
+      him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others replied by applying their spurs, and in a short time they
+      dismounted before the Nugget and Rope. Thirsty wouldn't have a chance to
+      not care how he dealt the cards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck and Red moved quickly through the crowd, speaking fast and earnestly.
+      When they returned to where they had left their friend they saw him half a
+      block away and they followed slowly, one on either side of the street.
+      There would be no bullets in his back if they knew what they were about,
+      and they usually did.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Hopalong neared the corner, Thirsty and his two brothers turned it and
+      saw him. Thirsty said something in a low voice, and the other two walked
+      across the street and disappeared behind the store. When assured that they
+      were secure, Thirsty walked up to a huge boulder on the side of the street
+      farthest from the store and turned and faced his enemy, who approached
+      rapidly until about five paces away, when he slowed up and finally
+      stopped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a number of seconds they sized each other up, Hopalong quiet and
+      deliberate with a deadly hatred; Thirsty pale and furtive with a sensation
+      hitherto unknown to him. It was Right meeting Wrong, and Wrong lost
+      confidence. Often had Thirsty Jones looked death in the face and laughed,
+      but there was something in Hopalong's eyes that made his flesh creep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced quickly past his foe and took in the scene with one flash of
+      his eyes. There was the crowd, eager, expectant, scowling. There were Buck
+      and Red, each lounging against a boulder, Buck on his right, Red on his
+      left. Before him stood the only man he had ever feared. Hopalong shifted
+      his feet and Thirsty, coming to himself with a start, smiled. His nerve
+      had been shaken, but he was master of himself once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; he snarled, scowling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong made no response, but stared him in the eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thirsty expected action, and the deadly quiet of his enemy oppressed him.
+      He stared in turn, but the insistent searching of his opponent's eyes
+      scorched him and he shifted his gaze to Hopalong's neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; he repeated uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu have a nice time at th' dance last night?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong, still
+      searching the face before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was there a dance? I was over in Alameda,&rdquo; replied Thirsty shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as, there was a dance, an' yu can shoot purty durn far if yu was in
+      Alameda,&rdquo; responded Hopalong, his voice low and monotonous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thirsty shifted his feet and glanced around. Buck and Red were still
+      lounging against their bowlders and apparently were not paying any
+      attention to the proceedings. His fickle nerve came back again, for he
+      knew he would receive fair play. So he faced Hopalong once more and
+      regarded him with a cynical smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu seems to worry a whole lot about me. Is it because yu has a tender
+      feelin', or because it's none of yore blame business?&rdquo; He asked
+      aggressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong paled with sudden anger, but controlled himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's because yu murdered Harris,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoo! An' how does yu figger it out?&rdquo; Asked Thirsty, jauntily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was huntin' yu hard an' yu thought yu'd stop it, so yu came in to lay
+      for him. When yu saw me an' him together yu saw di' chance to wipe out
+      another score. That's how I figger it out,&rdquo; replied Hopalong quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore a reg'lar 'tective, ain't yu?&rdquo; Thirsty asked ironically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got common sense,&rdquo; responded Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu has? Yu better tell th' rest that, too,&rdquo; replied Thirsty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny
+      remarks. Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel
+      better, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoo! An' suppose I did shoot him, I done a good job, didn't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu did the worst job yu could do, yu highway robber,&rdquo; softly said
+      Hopalong, at the same time moving nearer. &ldquo;Harris knew yu stopped th'
+      stage last month, an' that's why yu've been dodgin' him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore a liar!&rdquo; shouted Thirsty, reaching for his gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The movement was fatal, for before he could draw, the Colt in Hopalong's
+      holster leaped out and flashed from its owner's hip and Thirsty fell
+      sideways, face down in the dust of the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong started toward the fallen man, but as he did so a shot rang out
+      from behind the store and he pitched forward, stumbled and rolled behind
+      the bowlder. As he stumbled his left hand streaked to his hip, and when he
+      fell he had a gun in each hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he disappeared from sight Goodeye and Bill Jones stepped from behind
+      the store and started to run away. Not able to resist the temptation to
+      look again, they stopped and turned and Bill laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Easy as sin,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Run, yu fool&mdash;Red an' Buck'll be here. Want to git plugged?&rdquo; shouted
+      Goodeye angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They turned and started for a group of ponies twenty yards away, and as
+      they leaped into the saddles two shots were fired from the street. As the
+      reports died away Buck and Red turned the corner of the store, Colts in
+      hand, and, checking their rush as they saw the saddles emptied, they
+      turned toward the street and saw Hopalong, with blood oozing from an
+      abrasion on his cheek, sitting up cross-legged, with each hand holding a
+      gun, from which came thin wisps of smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' son-of-a-gun!&rdquo; cried Buck, proud and delighted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' son-of-a-gun!&rdquo; echoed Red, grinning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. Hopalong Keeps His Word
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sun
+      branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the north arose
+      from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond them lay Bass
+      Ca on. From the latter emerged a solitary figure astride a broncho, and as
+      he ascended the topmost rise he glanced below him at the placid stream and
+      beyond it into Mexico. As he sat quietly in his saddle he smiled and
+      laughed gently to himself. The trail he had just followed had been replete
+      with trouble which had suited the state of his mind and he now felt
+      humorous, having cleaned up a pressing debt with his six-shooter. Surely
+      there ought to be a mild sort of excitement in the land he faced,
+      something picturesque and out of the ordinary. This was to be the
+      finishing touch to his trip, and he had left his two companions at
+      Albuquerque in order that he might have to himself all that he could find.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not many miles to the south of him lay the town which had been the
+      rendezvous of Tamale Jose, whose weakness had been a liking for other
+      people's cattle. Well he remembered his first man hunt: the discovery of
+      the theft, the trail and pursuit and&mdash;the ending. He was scarcely
+      eighteen years of age when that event took place, and the wisdom he had
+      absorbed then had stood him in good stead many times since. He had even
+      now a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companions
+      had failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped strategy had gained
+      that end. The fight would never be forgotten, as it was his first, and no
+      sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of Red Connors as he
+      lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, the
+      first girl he had ever known&mdash;and the last. With a boy's impetuosity
+      he had wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sang
+      beneath her window and talked to her mother. He had boldly scaled the wall
+      and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to his own ability
+      to avoid being seen. No hidden meaning lay in his words; he spoke from his
+      heart and with no concealment. And he remembered the treachery that had
+      forced him, fighting, to the camp of his outfit; and when he had returned
+      with his friends she had disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those sisters who so
+      easily forgot how to talk. The fragrance of the old days wrapped
+      themselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine for his
+      black-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to see her
+      again. Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to and across
+      the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuing Tamale Jose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming of
+      guitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed from several
+      houses. The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavy shadows and
+      the little church farther up the dusty street showed dim lights in its
+      stained windows. Off to the north became audible the rhythmic beat of a
+      horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with a mocking bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his mount back on its
+      haunches as he stopped before a house. Glancing around and determining to
+      find out a few facts as soon as possible, he rode up to the low door and
+      pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt. After waiting for possibly half
+      a minute and receiving no response he hammered a tune upon it with two
+      Colts and had the satisfaction of seeing half a score of heads protrude
+      from the windows in the nearby houses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town up,&rdquo; he
+      grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it?&rdquo; came from within. The voice was distinctly feminine and
+      Hopalong winked to himself in congratulation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me,&rdquo; he replied, twirling his fingers from his nose at the curious,
+      forgetting that the darkness hid his actions from sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know; but who is 'me'?&rdquo; Came from the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't I a fool!&rdquo; he complained to himself, and raising his voice he
+      replied coaxingly, &ldquo;Open th' door a bit an' see. Are yu Carmencita?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O-o-o! but you must tell me who it is first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cassidy,&rdquo; he replied, flushing at the 'mister,' &ldquo;an' I wants to see
+      Carmencita.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carmencita who?&rdquo; teasingly came from behind the door. Hopalong scratched
+      his head. &ldquo;Gee, yu've roped me&mdash;I suppose she has got another handle.
+      Oh, yu know&mdash;she used to live here about seven years back. She had
+      great big black eyes, pretty cheeks an' a mouth that 'ud stampede anybody.
+      Don't yu know now? She was about so high,&rdquo; holding out his hands in the
+      darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened a trifle on a chain and Hopalong peered eagerly forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, it is you, the brave Americano! You must go away quick or you will
+      meet with harm. Manuel is awfully jealous and he will kill you! Go at
+      once, please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong pulled at the half-hearted down upon his lip and laughed softly.
+      Then he slid the guns back in their holsters and felt for his sombrero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Manuel wants to see me first, Star Eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! no!&rdquo; she replied, stamping upon the floor vehemently. &ldquo;You must go
+      now&mdash;at once!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd shore look nice hittin' th' trail because Manuel Somebody wants to
+      get hurt, wouldn't I? Don't yu remember how I used to shinny up this here
+      wall an' skin th' cat gettin' through that hole up there what yu said was
+      a window? Ah, come on an' open th' door&mdash;I'd shore like to see yu
+      again!&rdquo; pleaded the irrepressible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! no! Go away. Oh, won't you please go away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong sighed audibly and turned his horse. As he did so he heard the
+      door open and a sigh reached his ears. He wheeled like a flash and found
+      the door closed again on its chain. A laugh of delight came from behind
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come out, please!&mdash;just for a minute,&rdquo; he begged, wishing that he
+      was brave enough to smash the door to splinters and grab her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I do, will you go away?&rdquo; Asked the girl. &ldquo;Oh, what will Manuel say if
+      he comes? And all those people, they'll tell him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu!&rdquo; shouted Hopalong, brandishing his Colts at the protruding
+      heads. &ldquo;Git scarce! I'll shore plug th' last one in!&rdquo; Then he laughed at
+      the sudden vanishing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door slowly opened and Carmencita, fat and drowsy, wobbled out to him.
+      Hopalong's feelings were interfering with his breathing as he surveyed
+      her. &ldquo;Oh, yu shore are mistaken, Mrs. Carmencita. I wants to see yore
+      daughter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you have forgotten the little Carmencita who used to look for you.
+      Like all the men, you have forgotten,&rdquo; she cooed reproachfully. Then her
+      fear predominated again and she cried, &ldquo;Oh, if my husband should see me
+      now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong mastered his astonishment and bowed. He had a desire to ride
+      madly into the Rio Grande and collect his senses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu are right&mdash;this is too dangerous&mdash;I'll amble on some,&rdquo; he
+      replied hastily. Under his breath he prayed that the outfit would never
+      learn of this. He turned his horse and rode slowly up the street as the
+      door closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rounding the corner he heard a soft footfall, and swerving in his saddle
+      he turned and struck with all his might in the face of a man who leaped at
+      him, at the same time grasping the uplifted wrist with his other hand. A
+      curse and the tinkle of thin steel on the pavement accompanied the fall of
+      his opponent. Bending down from his saddle he picked up the weapon and the
+      next minute the enraged assassin was staring into the unwavering and, to
+      him, growing muzzle of a Colt's .45.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu shore had a bum teacher. Don't yu know better'n to push it in? An' me
+      a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct&mdash;it shows you
+      don't appreciate cow-wrastlers. This is safer,&rdquo; he remarked, throwing the
+      stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang out angrily and
+      quivered. &ldquo;I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we mostly poisons
+      coyotes up my way,&rdquo; he added. Then a thought struck him. &ldquo;Yu must be that
+      dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever. I don't
+      want yore Carmencita. I only called to say hulloo,&rdquo; responded Hopalong,
+      his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him from his vivid
+      recollection of the woman who had opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah!&rdquo; snarled Manuel. &ldquo;You wants to poison my little bird. You with your
+      fair hair and your cursed swagger!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from the
+      Mexican's nose. &ldquo;Yu wants to ride easy, hombre. I ain't no angel, but I
+      don't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore head
+      that she wants to be poisoned. Why, she near stuck a knife in me!&rdquo; he
+      lied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than that
+      to wipe out the insult of the blow. The horse became restless, and when
+      Hopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' 'dobe hut by th' arroyo. I'm
+      tellin' yu this so yu won't do nothin' rash an' leave Carmencita a widow.
+      Sabe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hate on the Mexican's face redoubled and he took a short step forward,
+      but stopped when the muzzle of the Colt kissed his nose. He was the
+      brother of Tamale Jose. As he backed away from the cool touch of the
+      weapon he thought out swiftly his revenge. Some of his brother's old
+      companions were at that moment drinking mescal in a saloon down the
+      street, and they would be glad to see this Americano die. He glanced past
+      his house at the saloon and Hopalong misconstrued his thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore, go home. I'll just circulate around some for exercise. No hard
+      feelings, only yu better throw it next time,&rdquo; he said as he backed away
+      and rode off. Manuel went down the street and then ran into the saloon,
+      where he caused an uproar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong rode to the end of the plaza and tried to sing, but it was a
+      dismal failure. Then he felt thirsty and wondered why he hadn't thought of
+      it before. Turning his horse and seeing the saloon he rode up to it and
+      in, lying flat on the animal's neck to avoid being swept off by the door
+      frame. His entrance scared white some half a dozen loungers, who
+      immediately sprang up in a decidedly hostile manner. Hopalong's Colts
+      peeped over the ears of his horse and he backed into a corner near the
+      bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One, two, three&mdash;now, altogether, breathe! Yu acts like yu never saw
+      a real puncher afore. All th' same,&rdquo; he remarked, nodding at several of
+      the crowd, &ldquo;I've seen yu afore. Yu are th' gents with th' hot-foot
+      get-a-way that vamoosed when we got Tamale.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Curses were flung at him and only the humorous mood he was in saved
+      trouble. One, bolder than the rest, spoke up: &ldquo;The senor will not see any
+      'hot-foot get-a-way,' as he calls it, now! The senor was not wise to go so
+      far away from his friends!&rdquo;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong looked at the speaker and a quizzical grin slowly spread over his
+      face. &ldquo;They'll shore feel glad when I tells them yu was askin' for 'em.
+      But didn't yu see too much of 'em once, or was yu poundin' leather in the
+      other direction? Yu don't want to worry none about me&mdash;an' if yu
+      don't get yore hands closter to yore neck they'll be heck to pay! There,
+      that's more like home,&rdquo; he remarked, nodding assurance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Reaching over he grasped a bottle and poured out a drink, his Colt
+      slipping from his hand and dangling from his wrist by a thong. As the
+      weapon started to fall several of the audience involuntarily moved as if
+      to pick it up. Hopalong noticed this and paused with the glass half way to
+      his lips. &ldquo;Don't bother yoreselves none; I can git it again,&rdquo; he said,
+      tossing off the liquor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wow! Holy smoke!&rdquo; he yelled. &ldquo;This ain't drink! Sufferin' coyotes, nobody
+      can accuse yu of sellin' liquor! Did yu make this all by yoreself?&rdquo; He
+      asked incredulously of the proprietor, who didn't know whether to run or
+      to pray. Then he noticed that the crowd was spreading out and his Colts
+      again became the center of interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!&rdquo; he ordered as the person addressed
+      was gliding toward the door. &ldquo;I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot me from th'
+      street. Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop somethin' hot. An'
+      yu all better sit down,&rdquo; he suggested, sweeping them with his guns. One
+      man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in complying and Hopalong sent
+      a bullet through the top of his high sombrero, which had a most gratifying
+      effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll regret this!&rdquo; hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur of assent
+      arose. Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon and immediately
+      a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo,&rdquo; counted off the daring
+      horseman; &ldquo;move a bit an' off yu go,&rdquo; he finished. Then his face broke out
+      in another grin as he thought of more enjoyment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That there gent on th' left,&rdquo; he said, pointing out with a gun the man he
+      meant. &ldquo;Yu sing us a song. Sing a nice little song.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the object of his remarks remained mute he let his thumb ostentatiously
+      slide back with the hammer of the gun under it. &ldquo;Sing! Quick!&rdquo; The man
+      sang.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Hopalong leaned forward to say something a stiletto flashed past his
+      neck and crashed into the bottle beside him. The echo of the crash was
+      merged into a report as Hopalong fired from his waist. Then he backed out
+      into the Street and, wheeling, galloped across the plaza and again faced
+      the saloon. A flash split the darkness and a bullet hummed over his head
+      and thudded into an adobe wall at his back. Another shot and he replied,
+      aiming at the flash.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From down the Street came the sound of a window opening and he promptly
+      caused it to close again. Several more windows opened and hastily closed,
+      and he rode slowly toward the far end of the plaza. As he faced the saloon
+      once more he heard a command to throw up his hands and saw the glint of a
+      gun, held by a man who wore the insignia of sheriff. Hopalong complied,
+      but as his hands went up two spurts of fire shot forth and the sheriff
+      dropped his weapon, reeled and sat down. Hopalong rode over to him and
+      swinging down, picked up the gun and looked the officer over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoo, yu'll be all right soon&mdash;yore only plugged in th' arms,&rdquo; he
+      remarked as he glanced up the street. Shadowy forms were gliding from
+      cover to cover and he immediately caused consternation among them by his
+      accuracy. &ldquo;Ain't it sad?&rdquo; He complained to the wounded man. &ldquo;I never
+      starts out but what somebody makes me shoot 'em. Came down here to see a
+      girl an' find she's married. Then when I moves on peaceable&mdash;like her
+      husband makes me hit him. Then I wants a drink an' he goes an' fans a
+      knife at me, an' me just teachin' him how! Then yu has to come along an'
+      make more trouble&rdquo;.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now look at them fools over there,&rdquo; he said, pointing at a dark shadow
+      some fifty paces off. &ldquo;They're pattin' their backs because I don't see
+      'em, an' if I hurts them they'll git mad. Guess I'll make 'em dust along,&rdquo;
+       he added, shooting into the spot. A howl went up and two men ran away at
+      top speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff nodded his sympathy and spoke. &ldquo;I reckons you had better give
+      up. You can't get away. Every house, every corner and shadow holds a man.
+      You are a brave man, but, as you say, unfortunate. Better help me up and
+      come with me&mdash;they'll tear you to pieces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore I'll help yu up&mdash;I ain't got no grudge against nobody. But my
+      friends know where I am an' they'll come down here an' raise a ruction if
+      I don't show up. So, if it's all th' same to you, I'll be ambling right
+      along,&rdquo; he said as he helped the sheriff to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any objections to telling me your name?&rdquo; Asked the sheriff as he
+      looked himself over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None whatever,&rdquo; answered Hopalong heartily. &ldquo;I'm Hopalong Cassidy of th'
+      Bar 20, Texas.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't surprise me&mdash;I've heard of you,&rdquo; replied the sheriff
+      wearily. &ldquo;You are the man who killed Tamale Jose, whom I hunted for
+      unceasingly. I found him when you had left and I got the reward. Come
+      again some time and I'll divide with you; two hundred and fifty dollars,&rdquo;
+       he added craftily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shore will, but I don't want no money,&rdquo; replied Hopalong as he turned
+      away. &ldquo;Adios, senor,&rdquo; he called back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adios,&rdquo; replied the sheriff as he kicked a nearby door for assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cow-pony tied itself up in knots as it pounded down the street toward
+      the trail, and although he was fired on he swung into the dusty trail with
+      a song on his lips. Several hours later he stood dripping wet on the
+      American side of the Rio Grande and shouted advice to a score of Mexican
+      cavalrymen on the opposite bank. Then he slowly picked his way toward El
+      Paso for a game at Faro Dan's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff sat in his easy chair one night some three weeks later,
+      gravely engaged in rolling a cigarette. His arms were practically well,
+      the wounds being in the fleshy parts. He was a philosopher and was
+      disposed to take things easy, which accounted for his being in his
+      official position for fifteen years. A gentleman at the core, he was well
+      educated and had visited a goodly portion of the world. A book of Horace
+      lay open on his knees and on the table at his side lay a shining new
+      revolver, Hopalong having carried off his former weapon. He read aloud
+      several lines and in reaching for a light for his cigarette noticed the
+      new six-shooter. His mind leaped from Horace to Hopalong, and he smiled
+      grimly at the latter's promise to call.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Glancing up, his eyes fell on a poster which conveyed the information in
+Spanish and in English that there was offered
+
+      +&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;+
+           | |  FIVE HUNDRED PESOS | |
+
+                    REWARD
+
+         For Hopalong Cassidy, of the Ranch
+
+      | | Known as the Bar-20, Texas, U. S. A. | |
+
+      +&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      and which gave a good description of that gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sighing for the five hundred, he again took up his book and was lost in
+      its pages when he heard a knock, rather low and timid. Wearily laying
+      aside his reading, he strode to the door, expecting to hear a lengthy
+      complaint from one of his townsmen. As he threw the door wide open the
+      light streamed out and lighted up a revolver and behind it the beaming
+      face of a cowboy, who grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll be damned!&rdquo; ejaculated the sheriff, starting back in
+      amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say that, sheriff; you've got lots of time to reform,&rdquo; replied a
+      humorous voice. &ldquo;How's th' wings?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Almost well: you were considerate,&rdquo; responded the sheriff. &ldquo;Let's go in&mdash;somebody
+      might see me out here an' get into trouble,&rdquo; suggested the visitor,
+      placing his foot on the sill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly&mdash;pardon my discourtesy,&rdquo; said the sheriff. &ldquo;You see, I
+      wasn't expecting you to-night,&rdquo; he explained, thinking of the elaborate
+      preparations that he would have gone to if he had thought the
+      irrepressible would call.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I was down this way, an' seeing as how I had promised to drop in I
+      just natchurally dropped,&rdquo; replied Hopalong as he took the chair proffered
+      by his host.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After talking awhile on everything and nothing the sheriff coughed and
+      looked uneasily at his guest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cassidy, I am sorry you called, for I like men of your energy and
+      courage and I very much dislike to arrest you,&rdquo; remarked the sheriff. &ldquo;Of
+      course you understand that you are under arrest,&rdquo; he added with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who, me?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong with a rising inflection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most assuredly,&rdquo; breathed the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, this is the first time I ever heard anything about it,&rdquo; replied the
+      astonished cow-puncher. &ldquo;I'm an American&mdash;don't that make any
+      difference?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in this case, I'm afraid. You see, it's for manslaughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don't that beat th' devil, now?&rdquo; Said Hopalong. He felt sorry that
+      a citizen of the glorious United States should be prey for troublesome
+      sheriffs, but he was sure that his duty to Texas called upon him never to
+      submit to arrest at the hands of a Mexican. Remembering the Alamo, and
+      still behind his Colt, he reached over and took up the shining weapon from
+      the table and snapped it open on his knee. After placing the cartridges in
+      his pocket he tossed the gun over on the bed and, reaching inside his
+      shirt, drew out another and threw it after the first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's yore gun; I forgot to leave it,&rdquo; he said, apologetically. &ldquo;Anyhow
+      yu needs two,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he glanced around the room, noticed the poster and walked over and
+      read it. A full swift sweep of his gloved hand tore it from its fastenings
+      and crammed it under his belt. The glimmer of anger in his eyes gave way
+      as he realized that his head was worth a definite price, and he smiled at
+      what the boys would say when he showed it to them. Planting his feet far
+      apart and placing his arms akimbo he faced his host in grim defiance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got any more of these?&rdquo; He inquired, placing his hand on the poster under
+      his belt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Several,&rdquo; replied the sheriff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trot 'em out,&rdquo; ordered Hopalong shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff sighed, stretched and went over to a shelf, from which he took
+      a bundle of the articles in question. Turning slowly he looked at the
+      puncher and handed them to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckons they's all over this here town,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are, and you may never see Texas again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So? Well, yu tell yore most particular friends that the job is worth five
+      thousand, and that it will take so many to do it that when th' mazuma is
+      divided up it won't buy a meal. There's only one man in this country
+      tonight that can earn that money, an' that's me,&rdquo; said the puncher. &ldquo;An' I
+      don't need it,&rdquo; he added, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you are my prisoner&mdash;you are under arrest,&rdquo; enlightened the
+      sheriff, rolling another cigarette. The sheriff spoke as if asking a
+      question. Never before had five hundred dollars been so close at hand and
+      yet so unobtainable. It was like having a check-book but no bank account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm shore sorry to treat yu mean,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong, &ldquo;but I was paid a
+      month in advance an' I'll have to go back an' earn it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can&mdash;if you say that you will return,&rdquo; replied the sheriff
+      tentatively. The sheriff meant what he said and for the moment had
+      forgotten that he was powerless and was not the one to make terms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong was amazed and for a time his ideas of Mexicans staggered under
+      the blow. Then he smiled sympathetically as he realized that he faced a
+      white man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never like to promise nothin',&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I might get plugged, or
+      something might happen that wouldn't let me.&rdquo; Then his face lighted up as
+      a thought came to him. &ldquo;Say, I'll cut di' cards with yu to see if I comes
+      back or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff leaned back and gazed at the cool youngster before him. A
+      smile of satisfaction, partly at the self-reliance of his guest and partly
+      at the novelty of his situation, spread over his face. He reached for a
+      pack of Mexican cards and laughed. &ldquo;Man! You're a cool one&mdash;I'll do
+      it. What do you call?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Red,&rdquo; answered Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sheriff slowly raised his hand and revealed the ace of hearts.
+      Hopalong leaned back and laughed, at the same time taking from his pocket
+      the six extracted cartridges. Arising and going over to the bed he slipped
+      them in the chambers of the new gun and then placed the loaded weapon at
+      the sheriff's elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon I'll amble, sheriff,&rdquo; he said as he opened the door. &ldquo;If
+      yu ever sifts up my way drop in an' see me&mdash;th' boys'll give yu a
+      good time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks; I will be glad to,&rdquo; replied the sheriff. &ldquo;You'll take your
+      pitcher to the well once too often some day, my friend. This courtesy,&rdquo;
+       glancing at the restored revolver, &ldquo;might have cost you dearly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoo! I did that once an' th' feller tried to use it,&rdquo; replied the cowboy
+      as he backed through the door. &ldquo;Some people are awfully careless,&rdquo; he
+      added. &ldquo;So long&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; replied the sheriff, wondering what sort of a man he had been
+      entertaining.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door closed softly and soon after a joyous whoop floated in from the
+      Street. The sheriff toyed with the new gun and listened to the low caress
+      of a distant guitar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don't that beat all?&rdquo; He ejaculated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. The Advent of McAllister
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The blazing sun shone pitilessly on an arid plain which was spotted with
+      dust-gray clumps of mesquite and thorny chaparral. Basking in the burning
+      sand and alkali lay several Gila monsters, which raised their heads and
+      hissed with wide-open jaws as several faint, whip-like reports echoed
+      flatly over the desolate plain, showing that even they had learned that
+      danger was associated with such sounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Off to the north there became visible a cloud of dust and at intervals
+      something swayed in it, something that rose and fell and then became
+      hidden again. Out of that cloud came sharp, splitting sounds, which were
+      faintly responded to by another and larger cloud in its rear. As it came
+      nearer and finally swept past, the Gilas, to their terror, saw a madly
+      pounding horse, and it carried a man. The latter turned in his saddle and
+      raised a gun to his shoulder and the thunder that issued from it caused
+      the creeping audience to throw up their tails in sudden panic and bury
+      themselves out of sight in the sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The horse was only a broncho, its sides covered with hideous yellow spots,
+      and on its near flank was a peculiar scar, the brand. Foam flecked from
+      its crimsoned jaws and found a resting place on its sides and on the hairy
+      chaps of its rider. Sweat rolled and streamed from its heaving flanks and
+      was greedily sucked up by the drought-cursed alkali. Close to the rider's
+      knee a bloody furrow ran forward and one of the broncho's ears was torn
+      and limp. The broncho was doing its best&mdash;it could run at that pace
+      until it dropped dead. Every ounce of strength it possessed was put forth
+      to bring those hind hoofs well in front of the forward ones and to send
+      them pushing the sand behind in streaming clouds. The horse had done this
+      same thing many times&mdash;when would its master learn sense?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man was typical in appearance with many of that broad land. Lithe,
+      sinewy and bronzed by hard riding and hot suns, he sat in his Cheyenne
+      saddle like a centaur, all his weight on the heavy, leather-guarded
+      stirrups, his body rising in one magnificent straight line. A bleached
+      moustache hid the thin lips, and a gray sombrero threw a heavy shadow
+      across his eyes. Around his neck and over his open, blue flannel shirt lay
+      loosely a knotted silk kerchief, and on his thighs a pair of open-flapped
+      holsters swung uneasily with their ivory handled burdens. He turned
+      abruptly, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired, then he laughed
+      recklessly and patted his mount, which responded to the confident caress
+      by lying flatter to the earth in a spurt of heart-breaking speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll show 'em who they're trailin'. This is th' second time I've started
+      for Muddy Wells, an' I'm goin' to git there, too, for all th' Apaches out
+      of Hades!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To the south another cloud of dust rapidly approached and the rider
+      scanned it closely, for it was directly in his path. As he watched it he
+      saw something wave and it was a sombrero! Shortly afterward a real cowboy
+      yell reached his ears. He grinned and slid another cartridge in the
+      greasy, smoking barrel of the Sharp's and fired again at the cloud in his
+      rear. Some few minutes later a whooping, bunched crowd of madly riding
+      cowboys thundered past him and he was recognized.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Frenchy!&rdquo; yelled the nearest one. &ldquo;Comin' back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on, McAllister!&rdquo; shouted another; &ldquo;we'll give 'em blazes!&rdquo; In
+      response the straining broncho suddenly stiffened, bunched and slid on its
+      haunches, wheeled and retraced its course. The rear cloud suddenly
+      scattered into many smaller ones and all swept off to the east. The
+      rescuing band overtook them and, several hours later, when seated around a
+      table in Tom Lee's saloon, Muddy Wells, a count was taken of them, which
+      was pleasing in its facts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We was huntin' coyotes when we saw yu,&rdquo; said a smiling puncher who was
+      known as Salvation Carroll chiefly because he wasn't.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep! They've been stalkin' Tom's chickens,&rdquo; supplied Waffles, the
+      champion poker player of the outfit. Tom Lee's chickens could whip
+      anything of their kind for miles around and were reverenced accordingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho! Is that so?&rdquo; Asked Frenchy with mild incredulity, such a state of
+      affairs being deplorable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She shore is!&rdquo; answered Tex Le Blanc, and then, as an afterthought, he
+      added, &ldquo;Where'd yu hit th' War-whoops?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Bout four hours back. This here's th' second time I've headed for this
+      place&mdash;last time they chased me to Las Cruces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That so?&rdquo; Asked Bigfoot Baker, a giant. &ldquo;Ain't they allus interferin',
+      now? Anyhow, they're better'n coyotes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They was purty well heeled,&rdquo; suggested Tex, glancing at a bunch of
+      repeating Winchesters of late model which lay stacked in a corner.
+      &ldquo;Charley here said he thought they was from th' way yore cayuse looked,
+      didn't yu, Charley?&rdquo; Charley nodded and filled his pipe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Pears like a feller can't amble around much nowadays without havin' to
+      fight,&rdquo; grumbled Lefty Allen, who usually went out of his way hunting up
+      trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're goin' to th' Hills as soon as our cookie turns up,&rdquo; volunteered
+      Tenspot Davis, looking inquiringly at Frenchy. &ldquo;Heard any more news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. Same old story&mdash;lots of gold. Shucks, I've bit on so many of
+      them rumors that they don't feaze me no more. One man who don't know
+      nothin' about prospectin' goes an' stumbles over a fortune an' those who
+      know it from A to Izzard goes 'round pullin' in their belts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We don't pull in no belts&mdash;we knows just where to look, don't we,
+      Tenspot?&rdquo; Remarked Tex, looking very wise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as we do,&rdquo; answered Tenspot, &ldquo;if yu hasn't dreamed about it, we do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu wait; I wasn't dreamin', none whatever,&rdquo; assured Tex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as, I saw it too onct,&rdquo; replied Frenchy with sarcasm. &ldquo;Went and lugged
+      fifty pound of it all th' way to th' assay office&mdash;took me two days!
+      an' that there four-eyed cuss looks at it and snickers. Then he takes me
+      by di' arm an' leads me to th' window. 'See that pile, my friend? That's
+      all like yourn,' sez he. 'It's worth about one simoleon a ton at th'
+      coast. They use it for ballast.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aw! But this what I saw was gold!&rdquo; exploded Tex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So was mine, for a while!&rdquo; laughed Frenchy, nodding to the bartender for
+      another round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we're tired of punchin' cows! Ride sixteen hours a day, year in an'
+      year out, an' what do we get? Fifty a month an' no chance to spend it, an'
+      grub that'd make a coyote sniffle! I'm for a vacation, an' if I goes
+      broke, why, I'll punch again!&rdquo; asserted Waffles, the foreman, thus
+      revealing the real purpose of the trip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What'd yore boss say?&rdquo; Asked Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop! What didn't he say! Honest, I never thought he had it in him. It
+      was fine. He cussed an hour frontways an' then trailed back on a dead
+      gallop, with us a-laughin' fit to bust. Then he rustles for his gun an' we
+      rustles for town,&rdquo; answered Waffles, laughing at his remembrance of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Frenchy was about to reply his sombrero was snatched from his head and
+      disappeared. If he &ldquo;got mad&rdquo; he was to be regarded as not sufficiently
+      well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot water; if he took it
+      good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit; but in either case he
+      didn't get his hat without begging or fighting for it. This was a
+      recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was not intended as an
+      insult.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose. Punching Lefty playfully in
+      the ribs he passed his hands behind that person's back. Not finding the
+      lost head-gear he laughed and, tripping Lefty up, fell with him and,
+      reaching up on the table for his glass, poured the contents down Lefty's
+      back and arose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu son-of-a-gun!&rdquo; indignantly wailed that unfortunate. &ldquo;Gee, it feels
+      funny,&rdquo; he added, grinning as he pulled the wet shirt away from his spine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I've got to be amblin',&rdquo; said Frenchy, totally ignoring the loss of
+      his hat. &ldquo;Goin' down to Buckskin,&rdquo; he offered, and then asked, &ldquo;When's
+      yore cook comin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Day after to-morrow, if he don't get loaded,&rdquo; replied Tex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A one-eyed Mexican&mdash;Quiensabe Antonio.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I used to know him. He's a heck of a cook. Dished up th' grub one season
+      when I was punchin' for th' Tin-Cup up in Montana,&rdquo; replied Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he kin cook now, all right.&rdquo; replied Waffles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's about all he can cook. Useter wash his knives in th' coffee pot
+      an' blow on di' tins. I chased him a mile one night for leavin' sand in
+      th' skillet. Yu can have him&mdash;I don't envy yu none whatever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He don't sand no skillet when little Tenspot's around,&rdquo; assured that
+      person, slapping his holster. &ldquo;Does he, Lefty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he does, yu oughter be lynched,&rdquo; consoled Lefty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so long,&rdquo; remarked Frenchy, riding off to a small store, where he
+      bought a cheap sombrero.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy was a jack-of-all-trades, having been cow-puncher, prospector,
+      proprietor of a &ldquo;hotel&rdquo; in Albuquerque, foreman of a ranch, sheriff, and
+      at one time had played angel to a venturesome but poor show troupe. Beside
+      his versatility he was well known as the man who took the stage through
+      the Sioux country when no one else volunteered. He could shoot with the
+      best, but his one pride was the brand of poker he handed out. Furthermore,
+      he had never been known to take an unjust advantage over any man and, on
+      the contrary, had frequently voluntarily handicapped himself to make the
+      event more interesting. But he must not be classed as being hampered with
+      self-restraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His reasons for making this trip were two-fold: he wished to see Buck
+      Peters, the foreman of the Bar-20 outfit, as he and Buck had punched cows
+      together twenty years before and were firm friends; the other was that he
+      wished to get square with Hopalong Cassidy, who had decisively cleaned him
+      out the year before at poker. Hopalong played either in great good luck or
+      the contrary, while Frenchy played an even, consistent game and usually
+      left off richer than when he began, and this decisive defeat bothered him
+      more than he would admit, even to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The round-up season was at hand and the Bar-20 was short of ropers, the
+      rumors of fresh gold discoveries in the Black Hills having drawn all the
+      more restless men north. The outfit also had a slight touch of the gold
+      fever, and only their peculiar loyalty to the ranch and the assurance of
+      the foreman that when the work was over he would accompany them, kept them
+      from joining the rush of those who desired sudden and much wealth as the
+      necessary preliminary of painting some cow town in all the &ldquo;bang up&rdquo; style
+      such an event would call for. Therefore they had been given orders to
+      secure the required assistance, and they intended to do so, and were
+      prepared to kidnap, if necessary, for the glamour of wealth and the
+      hilarity of the vacation made the hours falter in their speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Frenchy leaned back in his chair in Cowan's saloon, Buckskin, early the
+      next morning, planning to get revenge on Hopalong and then to recover his
+      sombrero, he heard a medley of yells and whoops and soon the door flew
+      open before the strenuous and concentrated entry of a mass of twisting and
+      kicking arms and legs, which magically found their respective owners and
+      reverted to the established order of things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the alkali dust had thinned he saw seven cow-punchers sitting on the
+      prostrate form of another, who was earnestly engaged in trying to push
+      Johnny Nelson's head out in the street with one foot as he voiced his
+      lucid opinion of things in general and the seven in particular. After Red
+      Connors had been stabbed in the back several times by the victim's
+      energetic elbow he ran out of the room and presently returned with a
+      pleased expression and a sombrero full of water, his finger plugging an
+      old bullet hole in the crown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he any better, Buck?&rdquo; Anxiously inquired the man with the reservoir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About a dollar's worth,&rdquo; replied the foreman. &ldquo;Jest put a little right
+      here,&rdquo; he drawled as he pulled back the collar of the unfortunate's shirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ow! wow! WOW!&rdquo; wailed the recipient, heaving and straining. The unengaged
+      leg was suddenly wrested loose, and as it shot up and out Billy Williams,
+      with his pessimism aroused to a blue-ribbon pitch, sat down forcibly in an
+      adjacent part of the room, from where he lectured between gasps on the
+      follies of mankind and the attributes of army mules.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red tiptoed around the squirming bunch, looking for an opening, his
+      pleased expression now having added a grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to be gittin' violent-like,&rdquo; he soliloquized, as he aimed a stream
+      at Hopalong's ear, which showed for a second as Pete Wilson strove for a
+      half-nelson, and he managed to include Johnny and Pete in his effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several minutes later, when the storm had subsided, the woeful crowd
+      enthusiastically urged Hopalong to the bar, where he &ldquo;bought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of all th' ornery outfits I ever saw&mdash;&rdquo; began the man at the table,
+      grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, hullo, Frenchy! Glad to see yu, yu old son-of-a-gun! What's th' news
+      from th' Hills?&rdquo; Shouted Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather locoed, an' there's a locoed gang that's headin' that way. Goin'
+      up?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore, after round-up. Seen any punchers trailin' around loose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as,&rdquo; drawled Frenchy, delving into the possibilities suddenly opened
+      to him and determining to utilize to the fullest extent the opportunity
+      that had come to him unsought. &ldquo;There's nine over to Muddy Wells that yu
+      might git if yu wants them bad enough. They've got a sombrero of mine,&rdquo; he
+      added deprecatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nine! Twisted Jerusalem, Buck! Nine whole cow-punchers a-pinin' for
+      work,&rdquo; he shouted, but then added thoughtfully, &ldquo;Mebby they's engaged,&rdquo; it
+      being one of the courtesies of the land not to take another man's help.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. They've stampeded for th' Hills an' left their boss all alone,&rdquo;
+       replied Frenchy, well knowing that such desertion would not, in the minds
+      of the Bar-20 men, add any merits to the case of the distant outfit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' sons-of-guns,&rdquo; said Hopalong, &ldquo;let's go an' get 'em,&rdquo; he suggested,
+      turning to Buck, who nodded a smiling assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, what's the hurry?&rdquo; Asked Frenchy, seeing his projected game slipping
+      away into the uncertain future and happy in the thought that he would be
+      avenged on the O-Bar-O outfit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'll be there till to-morrow noon&mdash;they's waitin' for their
+      cookie, who's goin' with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A cook! A cook! Oh, joy, a cook!&rdquo; exulted Johnny, not for one instant
+      doubting Buck's ability to capture the whole outfit and seeing a whirl of
+      excitement in the effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anybody we knows?&rdquo; Inquired Skinny Thompson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore. Tenspot Davis, Waffles, Salvation Carroll, Bigfoot Baker, Charley
+      Lane, Lefty Allen, Kid Morris, Curley Tate an' Tex Le Blanc,&rdquo; responded
+      Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Umm-m. Might as well rope a blizzard,&rdquo; grumbled Billy. &ldquo;Might as well try
+      to git th' Seventh Cavalry. We'll have a pious time corralling that bunch.
+      Them's th' fellows that hit that bunch of inquirin' Crow braves that time
+      up in th' Bad Lands an' then said by-bye to th' Ninth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an' Hopalong can
+      sing 'em to sleep,&rdquo; interposed Johnny, afraid that the expedition would
+      fall through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about Curley and Tex?&rdquo; Pugnaciously asked Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't think
+      they's dangerous. Salvation an' Tenspot are only ones who can shoot,&rdquo;
+       stoutly maintained Johnny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here yu, get mum,&rdquo; ordered Buck to the pair. &ldquo;When this outfit goes after
+      anything it generally gets it. All in favor of kidnappin' that outfit
+      signify di' same by kickin' Billy,&rdquo; whereupon Bill swore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do yu want yore hat?&rdquo; Asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shore do,&rdquo; answered that individual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu. Fifty a month an'
+      grub,&rdquo; offered the foreman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O.K.&rdquo; replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck looked at his watch. &ldquo;Seven o'clock&mdash;we ought to get there by
+      five if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe. Come on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are we goin' to git them?&rdquo; Asked Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu leave that to me, son. Hopalong an' Frenchy'll tend to that part of
+      it,&rdquo; replied Buck, making for his horse and swinging into the saddle, an
+      example which was followed by the others, including Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they swung off Buck noticed the condition of Frenchy's mount and
+      halted. &ldquo;Yu take that cayuse back an' get Cowan's,&rdquo; he ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That cayuse is good for Cheyenne&mdash;she eats work, an' besides I wants
+      my own,&rdquo; laughed Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease,&rdquo; volunteered
+      Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him. &ldquo;Shoo! I had a little
+      argument with some feather dusters&mdash;th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned them
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That so?&rdquo; Asked Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep! They sorter got into th' habit of chasin' me to Las Cruces an'
+      forgot to stop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How many'd yu get?&rdquo; Asked Lanky Smith.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twelve. Two got away. I got two before th' crowd showed up&mdash;that
+      makes fo'teen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now th' cavalry'll be huntin' yu,&rdquo; croaked Billy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hunt nothin'! They was in war-paint-think I was a target?&mdash;Think I
+      was goin' to call off their shots for 'em?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They relayed at the Barred-Horseshoe and went on their way at the same
+      pace. Shortly after leaving the last-named ranch Buck turned to Frenchy
+      and asked, &ldquo;Any of that outfit think they can play poker?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore. Waffles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does th' reverend Mr. Waffles think so very hard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shore does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do th' rest of them mavericks think so too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'd bet their shirts on him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture all were startled by a sudden eruption from Billy. &ldquo;Haw!
+      Haw! Haw!&rdquo; he roared as the drift of Buck's intentions struck him. &ldquo;Haw!
+      Haw! Haw!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, yu long-winded coyote,&rdquo; yelled Red, banging him over the head with
+      his quirt, &ldquo;If yu don't 'Haw! Haw!' away from my ear I'll make it a Wow!
+      Wow! What d'yu mean? Think I am a echo cliff? Yu slabsided doodle-bug,
+      yu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'way, yu crimson topknot, think my head's a hunk of quartz? Fer a
+      plugged peso I'd strew yu all over th' scenery!&rdquo; shouted Billy, feigning
+      anger and rubbing his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't no scenery around here,&rdquo; interposed Lanky. &ldquo;This here
+      be-utiful prospect is a sublime conception of th' devil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Easy, boy! Them highfalutin' words'il give yu a cramp some day. Yu talk
+      like a newly-made sergeant,&rdquo; remarked Skinny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He learned them words from the sky-pilot over at El Paso,&rdquo; volunteered
+      Hopalong, winking at Red. &ldquo;He used to amble down th' aisle afore the
+      lights was lit so's he could get a front seat. That was all hunky for a
+      while, but every time he'd go out to irrigate, that female organ-wrastler
+      would seem to call th' music off for his special benefit. So in a month
+      he'd sneak in an' freeze to a chair by th' door, an' after a while he'd
+      shy like blazes every time he got within eye range of th' church.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore. But do yu know what made him get religion all of a sudden? He used
+      to hang around on di' outside after th' joint let out an' trail along
+      behind di' music-slinger, lookin' like he didn't know what to do with his
+      hands. Then when he got woozy one time she up an' told him that she had
+      got a nice long letter from her hubby. Then Mr. Lanky hit th' trail for
+      Santa Fe so hard that there wasn't hardly none of it left. I didn't see
+      him for a whole month,&rdquo; supplied Red innocently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore funny, ain't yu?&rdquo; sarcastically grunted Lanky. &ldquo;Why, I can
+      tell things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them. Yu ought to be
+      ashamed of yoreself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah!&rdquo; snorted the aggrieved little man. &ldquo;I had business over to Santa
+      Fe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; endorsed Hopalong. &ldquo;We've all had business over to Santa Fe. Why,
+      about eight years ago I had business&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Choke up,&rdquo; interposed Red. &ldquo;About eight years ago yu was washin' pans for
+      cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges. Buck used to larrup yu about four
+      times a day eight years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where, red-faced
+      and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang,&rdquo; began Billy for the
+      third time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For heaven's sake get off that trail!&rdquo; replied Lanky. &ldquo;We aint goin' to
+      hold 'em up. De-plomacy's th' game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was as
+      nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in his
+      grumbling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the latest from Abilene way?&rdquo; Asked Buck of Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction,&rdquo; replied the recruit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, th' settlers put up barb-wire fence so's the cattle wouldn't get on
+      their farms. That would a been all right, for there wasn't much of it. But
+      some Britishers who own a couple of big ranches out there got smart all of
+      a sudden an' strung wire all along their lines. Punchers crossin' th'
+      country would run plumb into a fence an' would have to ride a day an' a
+      half, mebbe, afore they found th' corner. Well, naturally, when a man has
+      been used to ridin' where he blame pleases an' as straight as he pleases
+      he ain't goin' to chase along a five-foot fence to Trisco when he wants to
+      get to Waco. So th' punchers got to totin' wire-snips, an' when they runs
+      up agin a fence they cuts down half a mile or so. Sometimes they'd tie
+      their ropes to a strand an' pull off a couple of miles an' then go back
+      after th' rest. Th' ranch bosses sent out men to watch th' fences an' told
+      'em to shoot any festive puncher that monkeyed with th' hardware. Well, yu
+      know what happens when a puncher gets shot at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When fences grow in Texas there'll be th' devil to pay,&rdquo; said Buck. He
+      hated to think that some day the freedom of the range would be annulled,
+      for he knew that it would be the first blow against the cowboys'
+      occupation. When a man's cattle couldn't spread out all over the land he
+      wouldn't have to keep so many men. Farms would spring up and the sun of
+      the free-and-easy cowboy would slowly set.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckons th' cutters are classed th' same as rustlers,&rdquo; remarked Red
+      with a gleam of temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By th' owners, but not by th' punchers; an' it's th' punchers that
+      count,&rdquo; replied Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we'll give them a fight,&rdquo; interposed Hopalong, riding up. &ldquo;When it
+      gets so I can't go where I please I'll start on th' warpath. I won't buck
+      the cavalry, but I'll keep it busy huntin' for me an' I'll have time to
+      'tend to th' wire-fence men, too. Why, we'll be told we can't tote our
+      guns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're sayin' that now,&rdquo; replied Frenchy. &ldquo;Up in Buffalo, Smith, who's
+      now marshal, makes yu leave 'em with th' bartenders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to see any two-laigged cuss get my guns If I didn't want him
+      to!&rdquo; began Hopalong, indignant at the idea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Easy, son,&rdquo; cautioned Buck. &ldquo;Yu would do what th' rest did because yu are
+      a square man. I'm about as hard-headed a puncher as ever straddled leather
+      an' I've had to use my guns purty considerable, but I reckons if any
+      decent marshal asked me to cache them in a decent way, why, I'd do it. An'
+      let me brand somethin' on yore mind&mdash;I've heard of Smith of Buffalo,
+      an' he's mighty nifty with his hands. He don't stand off an' tell yu to
+      unload yore lead-ranch, but he ambles up close an' taps yu on yore shirt;
+      if yu makes a gunplay he naturally knocks yu clean across th' room an'
+      unloads yu afore yu gets yore senses back. He weighs about a hundred an'
+      eighty an' he's shore got sand to burn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah! When I makes a gun play she plays! I'd look nice in Abilene or Paso
+      or Albuquerque without my guns, wouldn't I? Just because I totes them in
+      plain sight I've got to hand 'em over to some liquor-wrastler? I reckons
+      not! Some hip-pocket skunk would plug me afore I could wink. I'd shore
+      look nice loping around a keno layout without my guns, in th' same town
+      with some cuss huntin' me, wouldn't I? A whole lot of good a marshal would
+      a done Jimmy, an' didn't Harris get his from a cur in th' dark?&rdquo; shouted
+      Hopalong, angered by the prospect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're talkin' about Buffalo, where everybody has to hang up their guns,&rdquo;
+       replied Buck. &ldquo;An' there's th' law&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To blazes with th' law!&rdquo; whooped Hopalong in Red's ear as he unfastened
+      the cinch of Red's saddle and at the same time stabbing that unfortunate's
+      mount with his spurs, thereby causing a hasty separation of the two. When
+      Red had picked himself up and things had quieted down again the subject
+      was changed, and several hours later they rode into Muddy Wells, a town
+      with a little more excuse for its existence than Buckskin. The wells were
+      in an arid valley west of Guadaloupe Pass, and were not only muddy but
+      more or less alkaline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER. X. Peace Hath its Victories
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As they neared the central group of buildings they heard a hilarious and
+      assertive song which sprang from the door and windows of the main saloon.
+      It was in jig time, rollicking and boisterous, but the words had evidently
+      been improvised for the occasion, as they clashed immediately with those
+      which sprang to the minds of the outfit, although they could not be
+      clearly distinguished. As they approached nearer and finally dismounted,
+      however, the words became recognizable and the visitors were at once
+      placed in harmony with the air of jovial recklessness by the roaring of
+      the verses and the stamping of the time.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     Oh we're red-hot cow-punchers playin' on our luck,
+     An' there ain't a proposition that we won't buck:
+     From sunrise to sunset we've ridden on the range,
+     But now we're oft for a howlin' change.
+</pre>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+CHORUS
+
+     Laugh a little, sing a little, all th' day;
+     Play a little, drink a little&mdash;we can pay;
+     Ride a little, dig a little an' rich we'll grow.
+     Oh, we're that bunch from th' O-Bar-O!
+
+     Oh, there was a little tenderfoot an' he had a little gun,
+     An' th' gun an' him went a-trailin' up some fun.
+     They ambles up to Santa Fe' to find a quiet game,
+     An' now they're planted with some more of th' same!
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      As Hopalong, followed by the others, pushed open the door and entered he
+      took up the chorus with all the power of Texan lungs and even Billy joined
+      in. The sight that met their eyes was typical of the men and the mood and
+      the place. Leaning along the walls, lounging on the table and straddling
+      chairs with their forearms crossed on the backs were nine cowboys, ranging
+      from old twenty to young fifty in years, and all were shouting the song
+      and keeping time with their hands and feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the center of the room was a large man dancing a fair buck-and-wing to
+      the time so uproariously set by his companions. Hatless, neck-kerchief
+      loose, holsters flapping, chaps rippling out and close, spurs clinking and
+      perspiration streaming from his tanned face, danced Bigfoot Baker as
+      though his life depended on speed and noise. Bottles shook and the air was
+      fogged with smoke and dust. Suddenly, his belt slipping and letting his
+      chaps fall around his ankles, he tripped and sat down heavily. Gasping for
+      breath, he held out his hand and received a huge plug of tobacco, for
+      Bigfoot had won a contest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shouts of greeting were hurled at the newcomers and many questions were
+      fired at them regarding &ldquo;th' latest from th' Hills.&rdquo; Waffles made a rush
+      for Hopalong, but fell over Big-foot's feet and all three were piled up in
+      a heap. All were beaming with good nature, for they were as so many school
+      boys playing truant. Prosaic cow-punching was relegated to the rear and
+      they looked eagerly forward to their several missions. Frenchy told of the
+      barb-wire fence war and of the new regulations of &ldquo;Smith of Buffalo&rdquo;
+       regarding cow-punchers' guns, and from the caustic remarks explosively
+      given it was plain to be seen what a wire fence could expect, should one
+      be met with, and there were many imaginary Smiths put hors de combat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kid Morris, after vainly trying to slip a blue-bottle fly inside of
+      Hopalong's shirt, gave it up and slammed his hand on Hopalong's back
+      instead, crying: &ldquo;Well, I'll be doggoned if here ain't Hopalong! How's th'
+      missus an' th' deacon an' all th' folks to hum? I hears yu an' Frenchy's
+      reg'lar poker fiends!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we plays onct in a while, but we don't want none of yore dust. Yu'll
+      shore need it all afore th' Hills get through with yu,&rdquo; laughingly replied
+      Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yore shore kind! But I was a sort of reckonin' that we needs some
+      more. Perfesser P. D. Q. Waffles is our poker man an' he shore can clean
+      out anything I ever saw. Mebbe yu fellers feel reckless-like an' would
+      like to make a pool,&rdquo; he cried, addressing the outfit of the Bar-20, &ldquo;an'
+      back yore boss of th' full house agin ourn?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red turned slowly around and took a full minute in which to size the Kid
+      up. Then he snorted and turned his back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Kid stared at him in outraged dignity. &ldquo;Well, what say!&rdquo; he softly
+      murmured. Then he leaped forward and walloped Red on the back. &ldquo;Hey, yore
+      royal highness!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Yu-yu-yu-oh, hang it-yu! Yu slab-sided,
+      ring-boned, saddle-galled shade of a coyote, do yu think I'm only
+      meanderin' in th' misty vales of-of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suggestions intruded from various sources. &ldquo;Hades?&rdquo; offered Hopalong.
+      &ldquo;Cheyenne?&rdquo; Murmured Johnny. &ldquo;Misty mistiness of misty?&rdquo; tentatively
+      supplied Waffles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red turned around again. &ldquo;Better come up an' have somethin',&rdquo; he
+      sympathetically invited, wiping away an imaginary tear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' he's so young!&rdquo; sobbed Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' so fair!&rdquo; wailed Tex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' so ornery!&rdquo; howled Lefty, throwing his arms around the discomfited
+      youngster. Other arms went around him, and out of the sobbing mob could be
+      heard earnest and heart-felt cussing, interspersed with imperative
+      commands, which were gradually obeyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Kid straightened up his wearing apparel. &ldquo;Come on, yu locoed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Angels?&rdquo; Queried Charley Lane, interrupting him. &ldquo;Sweet things?&rdquo; breathed
+      Hopalong in hopeful expectancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, blast it!&rdquo; yelled the Kid as he ran out into the street to escape the
+      persecution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Kid, all right,&rdquo; remarked Waffles. &ldquo;He'll go around an' lick some
+      Mexican an' come back sweet as honey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did somebody say poker?&rdquo; Asked Bigfoot, digressing from the Kid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yu fellows don't want no poker. Of course yu don't. Poker's mighty
+      uncertain,&rdquo; replied Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah!&rdquo; exclaimed Tex Le Blanc, pushing forward. &ldquo;I'll just bet yu to a
+      standstill that Waffles an' Salvation'll round up all th' festive
+      simoleons yu can get together! An' I'll throw in Frenchy's hat as an
+      inducement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if yore shore set on it make her a pool,&rdquo; replied Red, &ldquo;an' th'
+      winners divide with their outfit. Here's a starter,&rdquo; he added, tossing a
+      buckskin bag on the table. &ldquo;Come on, pile 'em up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The crowd divided as the players seated themselves at the table, the
+      O-Bar-O crowd grouping themselves behind their representatives; the Bar-20
+      behind theirs. A deck of cards was brought and the game was on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red, true to his nature, leaned back in a corner, where, hands on hips, he
+      awaited any hostile demonstration on the part of the O-Bar-O; then,
+      suddenly remembering, he looked half ashamed of his warlike position and
+      became a peaceful citizen again. Buck leaned with his broad back against
+      the bar, talking over his shoulder to the bartender, but watching Tenspot
+      Davis, who was assiduously engaged in juggling a handful of Mexican
+      dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Up by the door Bigfoot Baker, elated at winning the buck-and-wing contest,
+      was endeavoring to learn a new step, while his late rival was drowning his
+      defeat at Buck's elbow. Lefty Allen was softly singing a Mexican love
+      song, humming when the words would not come. At the table could be heard
+      low-spoken card terms and good-natured banter, interspersed with the clink
+      of gold and silver and the soft pat-pat of the onlookers' feet
+      unconsciously keeping time to Lefty's song. Notwithstanding the grim
+      assertiveness of belts full of .45's and the peeping handles of
+      long-barreled Colts, set off with picturesque chaps, sombreros and
+      tinkling spurs, the scene was one of peaceful content and good-fellowship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ugh!&rdquo; grunted Johnny, walking over to Red and informing that person that
+      he, Red, was a worm-eaten prune and that for half a wink he, Johnny, would
+      prove it. Red grabbed him by the seat of his corduroys and the collar of
+      his shirt and helped him outside, where they strolled about, taking pot
+      shots at whatever their fancy suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down the street in a cloud of dust rumbled the Las Cruces-El Paso stage
+      and the two punchers went up to meet it. Raw furrows showed in the
+      woodwork, one mule was missing and the driver and guard wore fresh
+      bandages. A tired tenderfoot leaped out with a sigh of relief and hunted
+      for his baggage, which he found to be generously perforated. Swearing at
+      the God-forsaken land where a man had to fight highwaymen and Indians
+      inside of half a day he grumblingly lugged his valise toward a
+      forbidding-looking shack which was called a hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver released his teams and then turned to Red. &ldquo;Hullo, old hoss,
+      how's th' gang?&rdquo; he asked genially. &ldquo;We've had a heck of a time this yere
+      trip,&rdquo; he went on without waiting for Red to reply. &ldquo;Five miles out of Las
+      Cruces we stood off a son-of-a-gun that wanted th' dude's wealth. Then
+      just this side of the San Andre foothills we runs into a bunch of young
+      bucks who turned us off this yere way an' gave us a runnin' fight purty
+      near all th' way. I'm a whole lot farther from Paso now than I was when I
+      started, an seem as I lost a jack I'll be some time gittin' there. Yu
+      don't happen to sabe a jack I can borrow, do yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know about no jack, but I'll rope yu a bronch,&rdquo; offered Red,
+      winking at Johnny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll pull her myself before I'll put dynamite in di' traces,&rdquo; replied the
+      driver. &ldquo;Yu fellers might amble back a ways with me&mdash;them buddin'
+      warriors'll be layin' for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shore will,&rdquo; responded Johnny eagerly. &ldquo;There's nine of us now an'
+      there'll be nine more an' a cook to-morrow, mebby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gosh, yu grows some,&rdquo; replied the guard. &ldquo;Eighteen'll be a plenty for
+      them glory hunters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We won't be able to,&rdquo; contradicted Red, &ldquo;for things are peculiar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the tenderfoot, who
+      sported a new and cheap sombrero and also a belt and holster complete.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you gentlemen join me?&rdquo; He asked, turning to Red and nodding at the
+      saloon. &ldquo;I am very dry and much averse to drinking alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, shore,&rdquo; responded Red heartily, wishing to put the stranger at ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The game was running about even as they entered and Lefty Allen was
+      singing &ldquo;The Insult,&rdquo; the rich tenor softening the harshness of the
+      surroundings.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   I've swum th' Colorado where she's almost lost to view, I've braced
+        th' Jaro layouts in Cheyenne;
+
+   I've fought for muddy water with a howlin' bunch of Sioux, An'
+        swallowed hot tamales, an' cayenne.
+
+   I've rid a pitchin' broncho 'till th' sky was underneath, I've
+        tackled every desert in th' land;
+
+   I've sampled XXXX whiskey 'till I couldn't hardly see, An' dallied
+        with th' quicksands of the Grande.
+
+   I've argued with th' marshals of a half-a-dozen burgs, I've been
+        dragged free an' fancy by a cow;
+
+   I've had three years' campaignin' with th' fightin', bitin' Ninth,
+        An' never lost my temper 'till right now.
+
+   I've had the yaller fever an I've been shot full of holes, I've
+        grabbed an army mule plumb by its tail;
+
+   I've never been so snortin', really highfalutin' mad As when y'u up
+        an' hands me ginger ale!
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong laughed joyously at a remark made by Waffles and the stranger
+      glanced quickly at him. His merry, boyish face, underlined by a jaw
+      showing great firmness and set with an expression of aggressive
+      self-reliance, impressed the stranger and he remarked to Red, who lounged
+      lazily near him, that he was surprised to see such a face on so young a
+      man and he asked who the player was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, his name's Hopalong Cassidy,&rdquo; answered Red. &ldquo;He's di' cuss that
+      raised that ruction down in Mexico last spring. Rode his cayuse in a
+      saloon and played with the loungers and had to shoot one before he got
+      out. When he did get out he had to fight a whole bunch of Mexicans an'
+      even potted their marshal, who had di' drop on him. Then he returned and
+      visited the marshal about a month later, took his gun away from him an'
+      then cut th' cards to see if he was a prisoner or not. He's a shore funny
+      cuss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tenderfoot gasped his amazement. &ldquo;Are you not fooling with me?&rdquo; He
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell him yu came after that five hundred dollars reward and see,&rdquo;
+       answered Red goodnaturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy smoke!&rdquo; shouted Waffles as Hopalong won his sixth consecutive pot.
+      &ldquo;Did yu ever see such luck?&rdquo; Frenchy grinned and some time later raked in
+      his third. Salvation then staked his last cent against Hopalong's flush
+      and dropped out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tenspot flipped to Waffles the money he had been juggling and Lefty
+      searched his clothes for wealth. Buck, still leaning against the bar,
+      grinned and winked at Johnny, who was pouring hair-raising tales into the
+      receptive ears of the stranger. Thereupon Johnny confided to his newly
+      found acquaintance the facts about the game, nearly causing that person to
+      explode with delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Waffles pushed back his chair, stood up and stretched. At the finish of a
+      yawn he grinned at his late adversary. &ldquo;I'm all in, yu old son-of-a-gun.
+      Yu shore can play draw. I'm goin' to try yu again some time. I was beat
+      fair an' square an' I ain't got no kick comin', none whatever,&rdquo; he
+      remarked, as he shook hands with Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O,&rdquo; hummed the Kid as he sauntered in.
+      One cheek was slightly swollen and his clothes shed dust at every step.
+      &ldquo;Who wins?&rdquo; he inquired, not having heard Waffles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They did, blast it!&rdquo; exploded Bigfoot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the Kid's peculiarities was revealed in the unreasoning and hasty
+      conclusions he arrived at. From no desire to imply unfairness, but rather
+      because of his bitterness against failure of any kind and his loyalty to
+      Waffles, came his next words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby they skinned yu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a flash Waffles sprang before him, his hand held up, palm out. &ldquo;He
+      don't mean nothin'&mdash;he's only a ignorant kid!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck smiled and wrested the Colt from Johnny's ever-ready hand. &ldquo;Here's
+      another,&rdquo; he said. Red laughed softly and rolled Johnny on the floor. &ldquo;Yu
+      jackass,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;don't yu know better'n to make a gun-play when we
+      needs them all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are we goin' to do?&rdquo; Asked Tex, glancing at the bulging pockets of
+      Hopalong's chaps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're goin' to punch cows again, that's what we're to do,&rdquo; answered
+      Bigfoot dismally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' whose are we goin' to punch? We can't go back to the old man,&rdquo;
+       grumbled Tex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Salvation looked askance at Buck and then at the others. &ldquo;Mebby,&rdquo; he
+      began, &ldquo;Mebby we kin git a job on th' Bar-20.&rdquo; Then turning to Buck again
+      he bluntly asked, &ldquo;Are yu short of punchers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Well, I might use some,&rdquo; answered the foreman, hesitating. &ldquo;But
+ I ain't got only one cook, an'&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll git yu th' cook all O.K.,&rdquo; interrupted Charley Lane vehemently.
+      &ldquo;Hi, yu cook!&rdquo; he shouted, &ldquo;amble in here an' git a rustle on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply, and after waiting for a minute he and Waffles went
+      into the rear room, from which there immediately issued great chunks of
+      profanity and noise. They returned looking pugnacious and disgusted, with
+      a wildly fighting man who was more full of liquor than was the bottle
+      which he belligerently waved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This here animated distillery what yu sees is our cook,&rdquo; said Waffles.
+      &ldquo;We eats his grub, nobody else. If he gits drunk that's our funeral; but
+      he won't get drunk! If yu wants us to punch for yu say so an' we does; if
+      yu don't, we don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; replied Buck thoughtfully, &ldquo;mebby I can use yu.&rdquo; Then with a burst
+      of recklessness he added, &ldquo;Yes, if I lose my job! But yu might sober that
+      Mexican up if yu let him fall in th' horse trough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the procession wended its way on its mission of wet charity, carrying
+      the cook in any manner at all, Frenchy waved his long lost sombrero at
+      Buck, who stood in the door, and shouted, &ldquo;Yu old son-of-a-gun, I'm proud
+      to know yu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck smiled and snapped his watch shut &ldquo;Time to amble,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. Holding the Claim
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O,&rdquo; hummed Waffles, sinking the
+      branding-iron in the flank of a calf. The scene was one of great activity
+      and hilarity. Several fires were burning near the huge corral and in them
+      half a dozen irons were getting hot. Three calves were being held down for
+      the brand of the &ldquo;Bar-20&rdquo; and two more were being dragged up on their
+      sides by the ropes of the cowboys, the proud cow-ponies showing off their
+      accomplishments at the expense of the calves' feelings. In the corral the
+      dust arose in steady clouds as calf after calf was &ldquo;cut out&rdquo; by the ropers
+      and dragged out to get &ldquo;tagged.&rdquo; Angry cows fought valiantly for their
+      terrorized offspring, but always to no avail, for the hated rope of some
+      perspiring and dust-grimed rider sent them crashing to earth. Over the
+      plain were herds of cattle and groups of madly riding cowboys, and two
+      cook wagons were stalled a short distance from the corral. The round-up of
+      the Bar-20 was taking place, and each of the two outfits tried to outdo
+      the other and each individual strove for a prize. The man who cut out and
+      dragged to the fire the most calves in three days could leave for the
+      Black Hills at the expiration of that time, the rest to follow as soon as
+      they could.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+In this contest Hopalong Cassidy led his nearest rival, Red Connors,
+both of whom were Bar-20 men, by twenty cut-outs, and there remained but
+half an hour more in which to compete. As Red disappeared into the sea
+of tossing horns Hopalong dashed out with a whoop.
+
+ &ldquo;Hi, yu trellis-built rack of bones, come along there! Whoop!&rdquo; he
+yelled, turning the prisoner over to the squad by the fire.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chalk up this here insignificant wart of cross-eyed perversity: an' how
+      many?&rdquo; He called as he galloped back to the corral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One ninety-eight,&rdquo; announced Buck, blowing the sand from the tally sheet.
+      &ldquo;That's shore goin' some,&rdquo; he remarked to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the calf sprang up it was filled with terror, rage and pain, and
+      charged at Billy from the rear as that pessimistic soul was leaning over
+      and poking his finger at a somber horned-toad. &ldquo;Wow!&rdquo; he yelled as his
+      feet took huge steps up in the air, each one strictly on its own course.
+      &ldquo;Woof!&rdquo; he grunted in the hot sand as he arose on his hands and knees and
+      spat alkali.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's s'matter?&rdquo; He asked dazedly of Johnny Nelson. &ldquo;Ain't it funny!&rdquo; he
+      yelled sarcastically as he beheld Johnny holding his sides with laughter.
+      &ldquo;Ain't it funny!&rdquo; he repeated belligerently. &ldquo;Of course that four-laigged,
+      knock-kneed, wobblin' son-of-a-Piute had to cut me out. They wasn't nobody
+      in sight but Billy! Why didn't yu say he was comin'? Think I can see four
+      ways to once? Why didn't&mdash;&rdquo; At this point Red cantered up with a
+      calf, and by a quick maneuver, drew the taut rope against the rear of
+      Billy's knees, causing that unfortunate to sit down heavily. As he arose
+      choking with broken-winded profanity Red dragged the animal to the fire,
+      and Billy forgot his grievances in the press of labor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How many, Buck?&rdquo; Asked Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One-eighty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How does she stand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore eighteen to th' bad,&rdquo; replied the foreman. &ldquo;Th' son-of-a-gun!&rdquo;
+       marveled Red, riding off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the corner
+      eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow,&rdquo; he announced
+      as he turned it over to the branding man. Buck made a tally in a separate
+      column and released the animal. &ldquo;Hullo, Red! Workin'?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong of
+      his rival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some, yu little cuss,&rdquo; answered Red with all the good nature in the
+      world. Hopalong was his particular &ldquo;side partner,&rdquo; and he could lose to
+      him with the best of feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu looks so nice an' cool, an' clean, I didn't know,&rdquo; responded Hopalong,
+      eyeing a streak of sweat and dust which ran from Red's eyes to his chin
+      and then on down his neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What yu been doin'? Plowin' with yore nose?&rdquo; Returned Red, smiling
+      blandly at his friend's appearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yah!&rdquo; snorted Hopalong, wheeling toward the corral. &ldquo;Come on, yu
+      pie-eatin' doodle-bug; I'll beat yu to th' gate!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two ponies sent showers of sand all over Billy, who eyed them in
+      pugnacious disgust. &ldquo;Of all th' locoed imps that ever made life miserable
+      fer a man, them's th' worst! Is there any piece of fool nonsense they
+      hain't harnessed me with?&rdquo; He beseeched of Buck. &ldquo;Is there anything they
+      hain't done to me? They hides my liquor; they stuffs th' sweat band of my
+      hat with rope; they ties up my pants; they puts water in. My boots an'
+      toads in my bunk&mdash;ain't they never goin' to get sane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they're only kids&mdash;they can't help it,&rdquo; offered Buck. &ldquo;Didn't
+      they hobble my cayuse when I was on him an' near bust my neck?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong interrupted the conversation by driving up another calf, and
+      Buck, glancing at his watch, declared the contest at an end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu wins,&rdquo; he remarked to the newcomer. &ldquo;An' now yu get scarce or Billy
+      will shore straddle yore nerves. He said as how he was goin' to get square
+      on yu to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't, neither, Hoppy!&rdquo; earnestly contradicted Billy, who bad visions
+      of a night spent in torment as a reprisal for such a threat. &ldquo;Honest I
+      didn't, did I, Johnny?&rdquo; He asked appealingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu shore did,&rdquo; lied Johnny, winking at Red, who had just ridden up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what yore talkin' about, but yu shore did,&rdquo; replied Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If yu did,&rdquo; grinned Hopalong, &ldquo;I'll shore make yu hard to find. Come on,
+      fellows,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;grub's ready. Where's Frenchy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Over chewin' th' rag with Waffles about his hat&mdash;he's lost it
+      again,&rdquo; answered Red. &ldquo;He needs a guardian fer that bonnet. Th' Kid an'
+      Salvation has jammed it in th' corral fence an' Waffles has to stand fer
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's put it in th' grub wagon an see him cuss cookie,&rdquo; suggested
+      Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; indorsed Johnny; Cookie'll feed him bum grub for a week to get
+      square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong and Johnny ambled over to the corral and after some trouble
+      located the missing sombrero, which they carried to the grub wagon and hid
+      in the flour barrel. Then they went over by the excited owner and dropped
+      a few remarks about how strange the cook was acting and how he was
+      watching Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy jumped at the bait and tore over to the wagon, where he and the
+      cook spent some time in mutual recrimination. Hopalong nosed around and
+      finally dug up the hat, white as new-fallen snow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a hat&mdash;found it in th' dough barrel,&rdquo; he announced, handing
+      it over to Frenchy, who received it in open-mouthed stupefaction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu pie-makin' pirate! Yu didn't know where my lid was, did yu! Yu
+      cross-eyed lump of hypocrisy!&rdquo; yelled Frenchy, dusting off the flour with
+      one full-armed swing on the cook's face, driving it into that
+      unfortunate's nose and eyes and mouth. &ldquo;Yu white-washed Chink, yu&mdash;rub
+      yore face with water an' yu've got pancakes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey! What you doin'!&rdquo; yelled the cook, kicking the spot where he had last
+      seen Frenchy. &ldquo;Don't yu know better'n that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu live close to yoreself or I'll throw yu so high th' sun'll duck,&rdquo;
+       replied Frenchy, a smile illuminating his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, cookie,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong confidentially, &ldquo;I know who put up this
+      joke on yu. Yu ask Billy who hid th' hat,&rdquo; suggested the tease. &ldquo;Here he
+      comes now&mdash;see how queer he looks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' mournful Piute,&rdquo; ejaculated the cook. &ldquo;I'll shore make him wish he'd
+      kept on his own trail. I'll flavor his slush [coffee] with year-old
+      dish-rags!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture Billy ambled up, keeping his weather eye peeled for
+      trouble. &ldquo;Who's a dish-rag?&rdquo; He queried. The cook mumbled something about
+      crazy hens not knowing when to quit cackling and climbed up in his wagon.
+      And that night Billy swore off drinking coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the dawn of the next day broke, Hopalong was riding toward the Black
+      Hills, leaving Billy to untie himself as best he might.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The trip was uneventful and several weeks later he entered Red Dog, a
+      rambling shanty town, one of those western mushrooms that sprang up in a
+      night. He took up his stand at the Miner's Rest, and finally secured six
+      claims at the cost of nine hundred hard-earned dollars, a fund subscribed
+      by the outfits, as it was to be a partnership affair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rode out to a staked-off piece of hillside and surveyed his purchase,
+      which consisted of a patch of ground, six holes, six piles of dirt and a
+      log hut. The holes showed that the claims bad been tried and found
+      wanting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He dumped his pack of tools and provisions, which he had bought on the way
+      up, and lugged them into the cabin. After satisfying his curiosity he went
+      outside and sat down for a smoke, figuring up in his mind how much gold he
+      could carry on a horse. Then, as he realized that he could get a pack mule
+      to carry the surplus, he became aware of a strange presence near at hand
+      and looked up into the muzzle of a Sharp's rifle. He grasped the situation
+      in a flash and calmly blew several heavy smoke rings around the frowning
+      barrel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; He asked slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice day, stranger,&rdquo; replied the man with the rifle, &ldquo;but don't yu reckon
+      yu've made a mistake?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong glanced at the number burned on a near-by stake and carelessly
+      blew another smoke ring. He was waiting for the gun to waver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I reckons not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll jest tell yu since yu asks. This yere claim's mine an' I'm a
+      reg'lar terror, I am. That's why; an' seein' as it is, yu better amble
+      some.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong glanced down the street and saw an interested group watching him,
+      which only added to his rage for being in such a position. Then he started
+      to say something, faltered and stared with horror at a point several feet
+      behind his opponent. The &ldquo;terror&rdquo; sprang to one side in response to
+      Hop-along's expression, as if fearing that a snake or some such danger
+      threatened him. As he alighted in his new position he fell forward and
+      Hopalong slid a smoking Colt in its holster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim. Hopalong
+      reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle, with which he
+      covered their advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anything yu want?&rdquo; he shouted savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two others,
+      but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a move that would
+      screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a warning shout. Then the
+      two held up their hands and advanced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We wants to git Dan,&rdquo; called out one of them, nodding at the prostrate
+      figure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come ahead,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those whom
+      they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who only
+      smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a siege,
+      should one come. He had one hundred rounds of ammunition and provisions
+      enough for two weeks, with the assurance of reinforcements long before
+      that time would expire. He cut several rough loopholes and laid out his
+      weapons for quick handling. He knew that he could stop any advance during
+      the day and planned only for night attacks. How long he could go without
+      sleep did not bother him, because he gave it no thought, as he was
+      accustomed to short naps and could awaken at will or at the slightest
+      sound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As dusk merged into dark he crept forth and collected several handfuls of
+      dry twigs, which he scattered around the hut, as the cracking of these
+      would warn him of an approach. Then he went in and went to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He awoke at daylight after a good night's rest, and feasted on canned
+      beans and peaches. Then he tossed the cans out of the door and shoved his
+      hat out. Receiving no response he walked out and surveyed the town at his
+      feet. A sheepish grin spread over his face as he realized that there was
+      no danger. Several red-shirted men passed by him on their way to town, and
+      one, a grizzled veteran of many gold camps, stopped and sauntered up to
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin',&rdquo; said Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin',&rdquo; replied the stranger. &ldquo;I thought I'd drop in an' say that I saw
+      that gun-play of yourn yesterday. Yu ain't got no reason to look fer a
+      rush. This camp is half white men an' half bullies, an' th' white men
+      won't stand fer no play like that. Them fellers that jest passed are
+      neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs them. But yu wants
+      to look out fer th' joints in th' town. Guess this business is out of yore
+      line,&rdquo; he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She shore is, but I'm here to stay. Got tired of punchin' an' reckoned
+      I'd get rich.&rdquo; Here he smiled and glanced at the hole. &ldquo;How're yu makin'
+      out?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's so
+      high. Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet. &ldquo;Any marshal
+      in this burg?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep. But he's one of th' gang. No good, an' drunk half th' time an' half
+      drunk th' rest. Better come down an' have something,&rdquo; invited the miner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door,&rdquo; replied the
+      puncher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till yu
+      gits back. He can hold her all right. Hey, Jake!&rdquo; he called to a man who
+      was some hundred paces distant; &ldquo;Come down here an' keep house till we
+      gits back, will yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and his
+      newly found friend started for the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered the &ldquo;Miner's Rest&rdquo; and Hopalong fixed the room in his mind
+      with one swift glance. Three men&mdash;and they looked like the crowd he
+      had stopped before&mdash;were playing poker at a table near the window.
+      Hopalong leaned with his back to the bar and talked, with the players
+      always in sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the door opened and a bewhiskered, heavy-set man tramped in, and
+      walking up to Hopalong, looked him over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh,&rdquo; he sneered, &ldquo;Yu are th' gent with th' festive guns that plugged
+      Dan, ain't yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong looked at him in the eyes and quietly replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' who th' deuce are yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The stranger's eyes blazed and his face wrinkled with rage as he
+      aggressively shoved his jaw close to Hopalong's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu runt, I'm a better man than yu even if yu do wear hair pants,&rdquo;
+       referring to Hopalong's chaps. &ldquo;Yu cow-wrastlers make me tired, an' I'm
+      goin' to show yu that this town is too good for you. Yu can say it right
+      now that yu are a ornery, game-leg&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong smashed his insulter squarely between the eyes with all the power
+      of his sinewy body behind the blow, knocking him in a heap under the
+      table. Then he quickly glanced at the card players and saw a hostile
+      movement. His gun was out in a flash and he covered the trio as he walked
+      up to them. Never in all his life had he felt such a desire to kill. His
+      eyes were diamond points of accumulated fury, and those whom he faced
+      quailed before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu scum! Draw, please draw! Pull yore guns an' gimme my chance! Three to
+      one, an' I'll lay my guns here,&rdquo; he said, placing them on the bar and
+      removing his hands. &ldquo;'Nearer My God to Thee' is purty appropriate fer yu
+      just now! Yu seem to be a-scared of yore own guns. Git down on yore dirty
+      knees an' say good an' loud that yu eats dirt! Shout out that yu are too
+      currish to live with decent men,&rdquo; he said, even-toned and distinct, his
+      voice vibrant with passion as he took up his Colts. &ldquo;Get down!&rdquo; he
+      repeated, shoving the weapons forward and pulling back the hammers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The trio glanced at each other, and all three dropped to their knees and
+      repeated in venomous hatred the words Hopalong said for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now git! An' if I sees yu when I leaves I'll send yu after yore friend.
+      I'll shoot on sight now. Git!&rdquo; He escorted them to the door and kicked the
+      last one out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His miner friend still leaned against the bar and looked his approval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well done, youngster! But yu wants to look out&mdash;that man,&rdquo; pointing
+      to the now groping victim of Hopalong's blow, &ldquo;is th' marshal of this
+      town. He or his pals will get yu if yu don't watch th' corners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong walked over to the marshal, jerked him to his feet and slammed
+      him against the bar. Then he tore the cheap badge from its place and threw
+      it on the floor. Reaching down, he drew the marshal's revolver from its
+      holster and shoved it in its owner's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore th' marshal of this place an' it's too good for me, but yore gain'
+      to pick up that tin lie,&rdquo; pointing at the badge, &ldquo;an' yore goin' to do it
+      right now. Then yore gain' to get kicked out of that door, an' if yu stops
+      runnin' while I can see yu I'll fill yu so full of holes yu'll catch cold.
+      Yore a sumptious marshal, yu are! Yore th' snortingest ki-yi that ever
+      stuck its tail atween its laigs, yu are. Yu pop-eyed wall flower, yu wants
+      to peep to yoreself or some papoose'll slide yu over th' Divide so fast yu
+      won't have time to grease yore pants. Pick up that license-tag an' let me
+      see you perculate so lively that yore back'll look like a ten-cent piece
+      in five seconds. Flit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The marshal, dazed and bewildered, stooped and fumbled for the badge. Then
+      he stood up and glanced at the gun in his hand and at the eager man before
+      him. He slid the weapon in his belt and drew his hand across his
+      fast-closing eyes. Cursing streaks of profanity, he staggered to the door
+      and landed in a heap in the street from the force of Hopalong's kick.
+      Struggling to his feet, he ran unsteadily down the block and disappeared
+      around a corner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bartender, cool and unperturbed, pushed out three glasses on his
+      treat: &ldquo;I've seen yu afore, up in Cheyenne&mdash;'member? How's yore
+      friend Red?&rdquo; He asked as he filled the glasses with the best the house
+      afforded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, shore 'nuff! Glad to see yu, Jimmy! What yu doin' away off here?&rdquo;
+       Asked Hopalong, beginning to feel at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, jest filterin' round like. I'm awful glad to see yu&mdash;this yere
+      wart of a town needs siftin' out. It was only last week I was wishin' one
+      of yore bunch 'ud show up&mdash;that ornament yu jest buffaloed shore
+      raised th' devil in here, an' I wished I had somebody to prospect his
+      anatomy for a lead mine. But he's got a tough gang circulating with him.
+      Ever hear of Dutch Shannon or Blinky Neary? They's with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dutch Shannon? Nope,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad eggs, an' not a-carin' how they gits square. Th' feller yu' salted
+      yesterday was a bosom friend of th' marshal's, an' he passed in his chips
+      last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep. Bought a bottle of ready-made nerve an' went to his own funeral.
+      Aristotle Smith was lookin' fer him up in Cheyenne last year. Aristotle
+      said he'd give a century fer five minutes' palaver with him, but he shied
+      th' town an' didn't come back. Yu know Aristotle, don't yu? He's th'
+      geezer that made fame up to Poison Knob three years ago. He used to go to
+      town ridin' astride a log on th' lumber flume. Made four miles in six
+      minutes with th' promise of a ruction when he stopped. Once when he was
+      loaded he tried to ride back th' same way he came, an' th' first thing he
+      knowed he was three miles farther from his supper an' a-slippin' down that
+      valley like he wanted to go somewhere. He swum out at Potter's Dam an' it
+      took him a day to walk back. But he didn't make that play again, because
+      he was frequently sober, an' when he wasn't he'd only stand off an' swear
+      at th' slide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's Aristotle, all hunk. He's th' chap that used to play checkers with
+      Deacon Rawlins. They used empty an' loaded shells for men, an' when they
+      got a king they'd lay one on its side. Sometimes they'd jar th' board an'
+      they'd all be kings an' then they'd have a cussin' match,&rdquo; replied
+      Hopalong, once more restored to good humor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; responded Jimmy, &ldquo;he counted his wealth over twice by mistake an'
+      shore raised a howl when he went to blow it&mdash;thought he's been
+      robbed, an' laid behind th' houses fer a week lookin' fer th' feller that
+      done it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've heard of that cuss&mdash;he shore was th' limit. What become of
+      him?&rdquo; Asked the miner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He ambled up to Laramie an' stuck his head in th' window of that joint by
+      th' plaza an' hollered 'Fire,' an' they did. He was shore a good feller,
+      all th' same,&rdquo; answered the bartender. Hopalong laughed and started for
+      the door. Turning around he looked at his miner friend and asked: &ldquo;Comin'
+      along? I'm goin' back now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. Reckon I'll hit th' tiger a whirl. I'll stop in when I passes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. So long,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, slipping out of the door and
+      watching for trouble. There was no opposition shown him, and he arrived at
+      his claim to find Jake in a heated argument with another of the gang.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here he comes now,&rdquo; he said as Hopalong walked up. &ldquo;Tell him what yu said
+      to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said yu made a mistake,&rdquo; said the other, turning to the cowboy in a
+      half apologetic manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what else?&rdquo; Insisted Jake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, ain't that all?&rdquo; Asked the claim-jumper's friend in feigned
+      surprise, wishing that he had kept quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well I reckons it is if yu can't back up yore words,&rdquo; responded Jake in
+      open contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong grabbed the intruder by the collar of his shirt and hauled him
+      off the claim. &ldquo;Yu keep off this, understand? I just kicked yore marshal
+      out in th' street, an' I'll pay yu th' next call. If yu rambles in range
+      of my guns yu'll shore get in th' way of a slug. Yu an' yore gang wants to
+      browse on th' far side of th' range or yu'll miss a sunrise some mornin'.
+      Scoot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong turned to his companion and smiled. &ldquo;What'd he say?&rdquo; He asked
+      genially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he jest shot off his mouth a little. They's all no good. I've
+      collided with lots of them all over this country. They can't face a good
+      man an' keep their nerve. What'd yu say to th' marshal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him what he was an' threw him outen th' street,&rdquo; replied Hopalong.
+      &ldquo;In about two weeks we'll have a new marshal an' he'll shore be a dandy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes? Why don't yu take th' job yoreself? We're with yu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better man comin'. Ever hear of Buck Peters or Red Connors of th' Bar-20,
+      Texas?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Buck Peters? Seems to me I have. Did he punch fer th' Tin-Cup up in
+      Montana, 'bout twenty years back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore! Him and Frenchy McAllister punched all over that country an' they
+      used to paint Cheyenne, too,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knows him, then. I used to know Frenchy, too. Are they comin' up here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; responded Hopalong, struggling with another can while waiting for
+      the fire to catch up. &ldquo;Better have some grub with me&mdash;don't like to
+      eat alone,&rdquo; invited the cowboy, the reaction of his late rage swinging him
+      to the other extreme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When their tobacco had got well started at the close of the meal and
+      content had taken possession of them Hopalong laughed quietly and finally
+      spoke:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu ever know Aristotle Smith when yu was up in Montana?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I! Well, me an' Aristotle prospected all through that country till he
+      got so locoed I had to watch him fer fear he'd blow us both up. He greased
+      th' fryin' pan with dynamite one night, an' we shore had to eat jerked
+      meat an' canned stuff all th' rest of that trip. What made yu ask? Is he
+      comin' up too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I reckons not. Jimmy, th' bartender, said that he cashed in up at
+      Laramie. Wasn't he th' cuss that built that boat out there on th' Arizona
+      desert because he was scared that a flood might come? Th' sun shore warped
+      that punt till it wasn't even good for a hencoop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. That was Sister&mdash;Annie Tompkins. He was purty near as bad as
+      Aristotle, though. He roped a puma up on th' Sacramentos, an' didn't punch
+      no more fer three weeks. Well, here comes my pardner an' I reckons I'll
+      amble right along. If yu needs any referee or a side pardner in any
+      ruction yu has only got to warble up my way. So long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next ten days passed quietly, and on the afternoon of the eleventh
+      Hopalong's miner friend paid him a visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jake recommends yore peaches,&rdquo; he laughed as he shook Hopalong's hand.
+      &ldquo;He says yu boosted another of that crowd. That bein' so I thought I would
+      drop in an' say that they're comin' after yu to-night, shore. Just heard
+      of it from yore friend Jimmy. Yu can count on us when th' rush comes. But
+      why didn't yu say yu was a pard of Buck Peters'? Me an' him used to shoot
+      up Laramie together. From what yore friend James says, yu can handle this
+      gang by yore lonesome, but if yu needs any encouragement yu make some sign
+      an' we'll help th' event along some. They's eight of us that'll be waitin'
+      up to get th' returns an' we're shore goin' to be in range.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gee, it's nice to run across a friend of Buck's! Ain't he a
+      son-of-a-gun?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong, delighted at the news. Then, without
+      waiting for a reply, he went on: &ldquo;Yore shore square, all right, an' I
+      hates to refuse yore offer, but I got eighteen friends comin' up an' they
+      ought to get here by tomorrow. Yu tell Jimmy to head them this way when
+      they shows up an' I'll have th' claim for them. There ain't no use of yu
+      fellers gettin' mixed up in this. Th' bunch that's comin' can clean out
+      any gang this side of sunup, an' I expects they'll shore be anxious to
+      begin when they finds me eatin' peaches an' wastin' my time shootin' bums.
+      Yu pass th' word along to yore friends, an' tell them to lay low an' see
+      th' Arory Boerallis hit this town with its tail up. Tell Jimmy to do it up
+      good when he speaks about me holdin' th' claim&mdash;I likes to see Buck
+      an' Red fight when they're good an' mad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The miner laughed and slapped Hopalong on the shoulder. &ldquo;Yore all right,
+      youngster! Yore just like Buck was at yore age. Say now, I reckons he
+      wasn't a reg'lar terror on wheels! Why, I've seen him do more foolish
+      things than any man I knows of, an' I calculate that if Buck pals with yu
+      there ain't no water in yore sand. My name's Tom Halloway,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' mine's Hopalong Cassidy,&rdquo; was the reply. &ldquo;I've heard Buck speak of
+      yu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has yu? Well, don't it beat all how little this world is? Somebody allus
+      turnin' up that knows somebody yu knows. I'll just amble along, Mr.
+      Cassidy, an' don't yu be none bashful about callin' if yu needs me. Any
+      pal of Buck's is my friend. Well, so long,&rdquo; said the visitor as he strode
+      off. Then he stopped and turned around. &ldquo;Hey, mister!&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;They
+      are goin' to roll a fire barrel down agin yu from behind,&rdquo; indicating by
+      an outstretched arm the point from where it would start. &ldquo;If it burns yu
+      out I'm goin' to take a band from up there,&rdquo; pointing to a cluster of
+      rocks well to the rear of where the crowd would work from, &ldquo;an' I don't
+      care whether yu likes it or not,&rdquo; he added to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong scratched his head and then laughed. Taking up a pick and shovel,
+      he went out behind the cabin and dug a trench parallel with and about
+      twenty paces away from the rear wall. Heaping the excavated dirt up on the
+      near side of the cut, he stepped back and surveyed his labor with open
+      satisfaction. &ldquo;Roll yore fire barrel an' be dogged,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Mebby
+      she won't make a bully light for pot shots, though,&rdquo; he added, grinning at
+      the execution he would do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Taking up his tools, he went up to the place from where the gang would
+      roll the barrel, and made half a dozen mounds of twigs, being careful to
+      make them very flimsy. Then he covered them with earth and packed them
+      gently. The mounds looked very tempting from the view-point of a marksman
+      in search of earth-works, and appeared capable of stopping any rifle ball
+      that could be fired against them. Hopalong looked them over critically and
+      stepped back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to see th' look on th' face of th' son-of-a-gun that uses them
+      for cover&mdash;won't he be surprised&rdquo; and he grinned gleefully as he
+      pictured his shots boring through them. Then he placed in the center of
+      each a chip or a pebble or something that he thought would show up well in
+      the firelight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Returning to the cabin, he banked it up well with dirt and gravel, and
+      tossed a few shovelfuls up on the roof as a safety valve to his
+      exuberance. When he entered the door he had another idea, and fell to work
+      scooping out a shallow cellar, deep enough to shelter him when lying at
+      full length. Then he stuck his head out of the window and grinned at the
+      false covers with their prominent bull's-eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When that prize-winnin' gang of ossified idiots runs up agin' these
+      fortifications they shore will be disgusted. I'll bet four dollars an'
+      seven cents they'll think their medicine-man's no good. I hopes that
+      puff-eyed marshal will pick out that hump with th' chip on it,&rdquo; and he
+      hugged himself in anticipation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He then cut down a sapling and fastened it to the roof and on it he tied
+      his neckerchief, which fluttered valiantly and with defiance in the light
+      breeze. &ldquo;I shore hopes they appreciates that,&rdquo; he remarked whimsically, as
+      he went inside the hut and closed the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The early part of the evening passed in peace, and Hopalong, tired of
+      watching in vain, wished for action. Midnight came, and it was not until
+      half an hour before dawn that he was attacked. Then a noise sent him to a
+      loophole, where he fired two shots at skulking figures some distance off.
+      A fusillade of bullets replied; one of them ripped through the door at a
+      weak spot and drilled a hole in a can of the everlasting peaches. Hopalong
+      set the can in the frying pan and then flitted from loophole to loophole,
+      shooting quick and straight. Several curses told him that he had not
+      missed, and he scooped up a finger of peach juice. Shots thudded into the
+      walls of his fort in an unceasing stream, and, as it grew lighter, several
+      whizzed through the loopholes. He kept close to the earth and waited for
+      the rush, and when it came sent it back, minus two of its members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he reloaded his Colts a bullet passed through his shirt sleeve and he
+      promptly nailed the marksman. He looked out of a crack in the rear wall
+      and saw the top of an adjoining hill crowned with spectators, all of whom
+      were armed. Some time later he repulsed another attack and heard a faint
+      cheer from his friends on the hill. Then he saw a barrel, blazing from end
+      to end, roll out from the place he had so carefully covered with mounds.
+      It gathered speed and bounded over the rough ground, flashed between two
+      rocks and leaped into the trench, where it crackled and roared in vain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said Hopalong, blazing at the mounds as fast as he could fire his
+      rifle, &ldquo;we'll just see what yu thinks of yore nice little covers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yells of consternation and pain rang out in a swelling chorus, and legs
+      and arms jerked and flopped, one man, in his astonishment at the shot that
+      tore open his cheek, sitting up in plain sight of the marksman. Roars of
+      rage floated up from the main body of the besiegers, and the discomfited
+      remnant of barrel-rollers broke for real cover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he stopped another rush from the front, made upon the supposition
+      that he was thinking only of the second detachment. A hearty cheer arose
+      from Tom Halloway and his friends, ensconced in their rocky position, and
+      it was taken up by those on the hill, who danced and yelled their delight
+      at the battle, to them more humorous than otherwise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This recognition of his prowess from men of the caliber of his audience
+      made him feel good, and he grinned: &ldquo;Gee, I'll bet Halloway an' his
+      friends is shore itchin' to get in this,&rdquo; he murmured, firing at a head
+      that was shown for an instant. &ldquo;Wonder what Red'll say when Jimmy tells
+      him&mdash;bet he'll plow dust like a cyclone,&rdquo; and Hopalong laughed,
+      picturing to himself the satiation of Red's anger. &ldquo;Old red-headed
+      son-of-a-gun,&rdquo; murmured the cowboy affectionately, &ldquo;he shore can fight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he squinted over the sights of his rifle his eye caught sight of a
+      moving body of men as they cantered over the flats about two miles away.
+      In his eagerness he forgot to shoot and carefully counted them. &ldquo;Nine,&rdquo; he
+      grumbled. &ldquo;Wonder what's th' matter?&rdquo; Fearing that they were not his
+      friends. Then a second body numbering eight cantered into sight and
+      followed the first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoop! There's th' Red-head!&rdquo; he shouted, dancing in his joy. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he
+      shouted at the peach can joyously, &ldquo;yu wait about thirty minutes an' yu'll
+      shore reckon Hades has busted loose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He grabbed up his Colts, which he kept loaded for repelling rushes, and
+      recklessly emptied them into the bushes and between the rocks and trees,
+      searching every likely place for a human target. Then he slipped his rifle
+      in a loophole and waited for good shots, having worked off the dangerous
+      pressure of his exuberance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon he heard a yell from the direction of the &ldquo;Miner's Rest,&rdquo; and fell to
+      jamming cartridges into his revolvers so that he could sally out and join
+      in the fray by the side of Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The thunder of madly pounding hoofs rolled up the trail, and soon a horse
+      and rider shot around the corner and headed for the copse. Three more
+      raced close behind and then a bunch of six, followed by the rest, spread
+      out and searched for trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red, a Colt in each hand and hatless, stood up in his stirrups and sent
+      shot after shot into the fleeing mob, which he could not follow on account
+      of the nature of the ground. Buck wheeled and dashed down the trail again
+      with Red a close second, the others packed in a solid mass and after them.
+      At the first level stretch the newcomers swept down and hit their enemies,
+      going through them like a knife through cheese. Hopalong danced up and
+      down with rage when he could not find his horse, and had to stand and
+      yell, a spectator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fight drifted in among the buildings, where it became a series of
+      isolated duels, and soon Hopalong saw panic-stricken horses carrying their
+      riders out of the other side of the town. Then he went gunning for the man
+      who had rustled his horse. He was unsuccessful and returned to his
+      peaches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the riders came up, and when they saw Hopalong shove a peach into his
+      powder-grimed mouth they yelled their delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu old maverick! Eatin' peaches like yu was afraid we'd git some!&rdquo;
+       shouted Red indignantly, leaping down and running up to his pal as though
+      to thrash him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong grinned pleasantly and fired a peach against Red's eye. &ldquo;I was
+      savin' that one for yu, Reddie,&rdquo; he remarked, as he avoided Buck's playful
+      kick. &ldquo;Yu fellers git to work an' dig up some wealth&mdash;I'm hungry.&rdquo;
+       Then he turned to Buck: &ldquo;Yore th' marshal of this town, an' any
+      son-of-a-gun what don't like it had better write. Oh, yes, here comes Tom
+      Halloway&mdash;'member him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck turned and faced the miner and his hand went out with a jerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll be locoed if I didn't punch with yu on th' Tin-Cup!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu shore did an' yu was purty devilish, but that there Cassidy of yourn
+      beats anything I ever seen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's a good kid,&rdquo; replied Buck, glancing to where Red and Hopalong were
+      quarreling as to who had eaten the most pie in a contest held some years
+      before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny, nosing around, came upon the perforated and partially scattered
+      piles of earth and twigs, and vented his disgust of them by kicking them
+      to pieces. &ldquo;Hey! Hoppy! Oh, Hoppy!&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;what are these things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong jammed Red's hat over that person's eyes and replied: &ldquo;Oh, them's
+      some loaded dice I fixed for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu son-of-a-gun!&rdquo; sputtered Red, as he wrestled with his friend in the
+      exuberance of his pride. &ldquo;Yu son-of-a-gun! Yu shore ought to be ashamed to
+      treat 'em that way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; replied Hopalong. &ldquo;But I ain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. The Hospitality of Travennes
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Buck Peters rode into Alkaline one bright September morning and sought
+      refreshment at the Emporium. Mr. Peters had just finished some business
+      for his employer and felt the satisfaction that comes with the knowledge
+      of work well done. He expected to remain in Alkaline for several days,
+      where he was to be joined by two of his friends and punchers, Mr. Hopalong
+      Cassidy and Mr. Red Connors, both of whom were at Cactus Springs, seventy
+      miles to the east. Mr. Cassidy and his friend had just finished a
+      nocturnal tour of Santa Fe and felt somewhat peevish and dull in
+      consequence, not to mention the sadness occasioned by the expenditure of
+      the greater part of their combined capital on such foolishness as faro,
+      roulette and wet-goods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Peters and his friends had sought wealth in the Black Hills, where
+      they had enthusiastically disfigured the earth in the fond expectation of
+      uncovering vast stores of virgin gold. Their hopes were of an optimistic
+      brand and had existed until the last canister of cornmeal flour had been
+      emptied by Mr. Cassidy's burro, which waited not upon it's master's
+      pleasure nor upon the ethics of the case. When Mr. Cassidy had returned
+      from exercising the animal and himself over two miles of rocky hillside in
+      the vain endeavor to give it his opinion of burros and sundry
+      chastisements, he was requested, as owner of the beast, to give his
+      counsel as to the best way of securing eighteen breakfasts. Remembering
+      that the animal was headed north when he last saw it and that it was too
+      old to eat, anyway, he suggested a plan which had worked successfully at
+      other times for other ends, namely, poker. Mr. McAllister, an expert at
+      the great American game, volunteered his service in accordance with the
+      spirit of the occasion and, half an hour later, he and Mr. Cassidy drifted
+      into Pell's poker parlors, which were located in the rear of a Chinese
+      laundry, where they gathered unto themselves the wherewithal for the
+      required breakfasts. An hour spent in the card room of the &ldquo;Hurrah&rdquo;
+       convinced its proprietor that they had wasted their talents for the past
+      six weeks in digging for gold. The proof of this permitted the departure
+      of the outfits with their customary elan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Santa Fe the various individuals had gone their respective ways, to
+      reassemble at the ranch in the near future, and for several days they had
+      been drifting south in groups of twos and threes and, like chaff upon a
+      stream, had eddied into Alkaline, where Mr. Peters had found them
+      arduously engaged in postponing the final journey. After he had gladdened
+      their hearts and soothed their throats by making several pithy remarks to
+      the bartender, with whom he established their credit, he cautioned them
+      against letting any one harm them and, smiling at the humor of his
+      warning, left abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cactus Springs was burdened with a zealous and initiative organization
+      known as vigilantes, whose duty it was to extend the courtesies of the
+      land to cattle thieves and the like. This organization boasted of the name
+      of Travennes' Terrors and of a muster roll of twenty. There was also a
+      boast that no one had ever escaped them which, if true, was in many cases
+      unfortunate. Mr. Slim Travennes, with whom Mr. Cassidy had participated in
+      an extemporaneous exchange of Colt's courtesies in Santa Fe the year
+      before, was the head of the organization and was also chairman of the
+      committee on arrivals, and the two gentlemen of the Bar-20 had not been in
+      town an hour before he knew of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Being anxious to show the strangers every attention and having a keen
+      recollection of the brand of gun-play commanded by Mr. Cassidy, he planned
+      a smoother method of procedure and one calculated to permit him to enjoy
+      the pleasures of a good old age. Mr. Travennes knew that horse thieves
+      were regarded as social enemies, that the necessary proof of their guilt
+      was the finding of stolen animals in their possession, that death was the
+      penalty and that every man, whether directly concerned or not, regarded,
+      himself as judge, jury and executioner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had several acquaintances who were bound to him by his knowledge of
+      crimes they had committed and would could not refuse his slightest wish.
+      Even if they had been free agents they were not above causing the death of
+      an innocent man. Mr. Travennes, feeling very self-satisfied at his
+      cleverness, arranged to have the proof placed where it would do the most
+      harm and intended to take care of the rest by himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors, feeling much refreshed and very hungry, arose at daylight the
+      next morning, and dressing quickly, started off to feed and water the
+      horses. After having several tilts with the landlord about the bucket he
+      took his departure toward the corral at the rear. Peering through the
+      gate, he could hardly believe his eyes. He climbed over it and inspected
+      the animals at close range, and found that those which he and his friend
+      had ridden for the last two months were not to be seen, but in their
+      places were two better animals, which concerned him greatly. Being fair
+      and square himself, he could not understand the change and sought
+      enlightenment of his more imaginative and suspicious friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, Hopalong!&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;come out here an' see what th' blazes has
+      happened!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy stuck his auburn head out of the wounded shutter and
+      complacently surveyed his companion. Then he saw the horses and looked
+      hard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quit yore foolin', yu old cuss,&rdquo; he remarked pleasantly, as he groped
+      around behind him with his feet, searching for his boots. &ldquo;Anybody would
+      think yu was a little boy with yore fool jokes. Ain't yu ever goin' to
+      grow up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They've got our bronch,&rdquo; replied Mr. Connors in an injured tone. &ldquo;Honest,
+      I ain't kiddin' yu,&rdquo; he added for the sake of peace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who has?&rdquo; Came from the window, followed immediately by, &ldquo;Yu've got my
+      boots!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't&mdash;they're under th' bunk,&rdquo; contradicted and explained Mr.
+      Connors. Then, turning to the matter in his mind he replied, &ldquo;I don't know
+      who's got them. If I did do yu think I'd be holdin' hands with myself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nobody'd accuse yu of anything like that,&rdquo; came from the window,
+      accompanied by an overdone snicker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors flushed under his accumulated tan as he remembered the varied
+      pleasures of Santa Fe, and he regarded the bronchos in anything but a
+      pleasant state of mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy slid through the window and approached his friend, looking as
+      serious as he could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any tracks?&rdquo; He inquired, as he glanced quickly over the ground to see
+      for himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not after that wind we had last night. They might have growed there for
+      all I can see,&rdquo; growled Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon we better hold a pow-wow with th' foreman of this shack an' find
+      out what he knows,&rdquo; suggested Mr. Cassidy. &ldquo;This looks too good to be a
+      swap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors looked his disgust at the idea and then a light broke in upon
+      him. &ldquo;Mebby they was hard pushed an' wanted fresh cayuses,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;A
+      whole lot of people get hard pushed in this country. Anyhow, we'll
+      prospect th' boss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They found the proprietor in his stocking feet, getting the breakfast, and
+      Mr. Cassidy regarded the preparations with open approval. He counted the
+      tin plates and found only three, and, thinking that there would be more
+      plates if there were others to feed, glanced into the landlord's room. Not
+      finding signs of other guests, on whom to lay the blame for the loss of
+      his horse, he began to ask questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much trade?&rdquo; He inquired solicitously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep,&rdquo; replied the landlord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy looked at the three tins and wondered if there had ever been
+      any more with which to supply his trade. &ldquo;Been out this morning?&rdquo; he
+      pursued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Talks purty nigh as much as Buck,&rdquo; thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+      aloud, &ldquo;Anybody else here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy lapsed into a painful and disgusted silence and his friend
+      tried his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who owns a mosaic bronch, Chinee flag on th' near side, Skillet brand?&rdquo;
+       asked Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quien sabe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gosh, he can nearly keep still in two lingoes,&rdquo; thought Mr. Cassidy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who owns a bob-tailed pinto, saddle-galled, cast in th' near eye, Star
+      Diamond brand, white stockin' on th' off front prop, with a habit of
+      scratchin' itself every other minute?&rdquo; went on Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slim Travennes,&rdquo; replied the proprietor, flopping a flapjack. Mr. Cassidy
+      reflectively scratched the back of his hand and looked innocent, but his
+      mind was working overtime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's Slim Travennes?&rdquo; Asked Mr. Connors, never having heard of that
+      person, owing to the reticence of his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain of th' vigilantes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he look like on th' general run?&rdquo; Blandly inquired Mr. Cassidy,
+      wishing to verify his suspicions. He thought of the trouble he had with
+      Mr. Travennes up in Santa Fe and of the reputation that gentleman
+      possessed. Then the fact that Mr. Travennes was the leader of the local
+      vigilantes came to his assistance and he was sure that the captain had a
+      hand in the change. All these points existed in misty groups in his mind,
+      but the next remark of the landlord caused them to rush together and
+      reveal the plot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good,&rdquo; said the landlord, flopping another flapjack, &ldquo;and a warnin' to
+      hoss thieves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ahem,&rdquo; coughed Mr. Cassidy and then continued, &ldquo;is he a tall, lanky,
+      yaller-headed son-of-a-gun, with a big nose an' lots of ears?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby so,&rdquo; answered the host.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Urn, slopping over into bad Sioux,&rdquo; thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+      aloud, &ldquo;How long has he hung around this here layout?&rdquo; At the same time
+      passing a warning glance at his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The landlord straightened up. &ldquo;Look here, stranger, if yu hankers after
+      his pedigree so all-fired hard yu had best pump him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told yu this here feller wasn't a man what would give away all he
+      knowed,&rdquo; lied Mr. Connors, turning to his friend and indicating the host.
+      &ldquo;He ain't got time for that. Anybody can see that he is a powerful busy
+      man. An' then he ain't no child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy thought that the landlord could tell all he knew in about five
+      minutes and then not break any speed records for conversation, but he
+      looked properly awed and impressed. &ldquo;Well, yu needn't go an' get mad about
+      it! I didn't know, did I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's gettin' mad?&rdquo; Pugnaciously asked Mr. Connors. After his injured
+      feelings had been soothed by Mr. Cassidy's sullen silence he again turned
+      to the landlord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did this Travennes look like when yu saw him last?&rdquo; Coaxed Mr.
+      Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' same as he does now, as yu can see by lookin' out of th' window.
+      That's him down th' street,&rdquo; enlightened the host, thawing to the pleasant
+      Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy adopted the suggestion and frowned. Mr. Travennes and two
+      companions were walking toward the corral and Mr. Cassidy once again slid
+      out of the window, his friend going by the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. Travennes' Discomfiture
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When Mr. Travennes looked over the corral fence he was much chagrined to
+      see a man and a Colt both paying strict attention to his nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin', Duke,&rdquo; said the man with the gun. &ldquo;Lose anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes looked back at his friends and saw Mr. Connors sitting on a
+      rock holding two guns. Mr. Travennes' right and left wings were the
+      targets and they pitted their frowns against Mr. Connors' smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that I knows of,&rdquo; replied Mr. Travennes, shifting his feet uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Find anything?&rdquo; Came from Mr. Cassidy as he sidled out of the gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope,&rdquo; replied the captain of the Terrors, eying the Colt. &ldquo;Are yu in the
+      habit of payin' early mornin' calls to this here corral?&rdquo; persisted Mr.
+      Cassidy, playing with the gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ya-as. That's my business&mdash;I'm th' captain of the vigilantes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's too bad,&rdquo; sympathized Mr. Cassidy, moving forward a step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes looked put out and backed off. &ldquo;What yu mean, stickin' me up
+      this-away?&rdquo; He asked indignantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu needn't go an' get mad,&rdquo; responded Mr. Cassidy. &ldquo;Just business. Yore
+      cayuse an' another shore climbed this corral fence last night an' ate up
+      our bronchs, an' I just nachurly want to know about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes looked his surprise and incredulity and craned his neck to
+      see for himself. When he saw his horse peacefully scratching itself he
+      swore and looked angrily up the street. Mr. Connors, behind the shack, was
+      hidden to the view of those on the street, and when two men ran up at a
+      signal from Mr. Travennes, intending to insert themselves in the
+      misunderstanding, they were promptly lined up with the first two by the
+      man on the rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; invited Mr. Connors, pushing a chunk of air out of the way
+      with his guns. The last two felt a desire to talk and to argue the case on
+      its merits, but refrained as the black holes in Mr. Connors' guns hinted
+      at eruption. &ldquo;Every time yu opens yore mouths yu gets closer to th' Great
+      Divide,&rdquo; enlightened that person, and they were childlike in their belief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes acted as though he would like to scratch his thigh where his
+      Colt's chafed him, but postponed the event and listened to Mr. Cassidy,
+      who was asking questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's our cayuses, General?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes replied that he didn't know. He was worried, for he feared
+      that his captor didn't have a secure hold on the hammer of the ubiquitous
+      Colt's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's my cayuse?&rdquo; Persisted Mr. Cassidy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, but I wants to ask yu how yu got mine,&rdquo; replied Mr.
+      Travennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu tell me how mine got out an' I'll tell yu how yourn got in,&rdquo; countered
+      Mr. Cassidy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors added another to his collection before the captain replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out in this country people get in trouble when they're found with other
+      folks' cayuses,&rdquo; Mr. Travennes suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy looked interested and replied: &ldquo;Yu shore ought to borrow some
+      experience, an' there's lots floating around. More than one man has smoked
+      in a powder mill, an' th' number of them planted who looked in th' muzzle
+      of a empty gun is scandalous. If my remarks don't perculate right smart
+      I'll explain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes looked down the street again, saw number five added to the
+      line-up, and coughed up chunks of broken profanity, grieving his host by
+      his lack of courtesy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time,&rdquo; announced Mr. Cassidy, interrupting the round. &ldquo;I wants them
+      cayuses an' I wants 'em right now. Yu an' me will amble off an' get 'em. I
+      won't bore yu with tellin' yu what'll happen if yu gets skittish. Slope
+      along an' don't be scared; I'm with yu,&rdquo; assured Mr. Cassidy as he looked
+      over at Mr. Connors, whose ascetic soul pined for the flapjacks of which
+      his olfactories caught intermittent whiffs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Red, I reckons yu has got plenty of room out here for all yu may
+      corral; anyhow there ain't a whole lot more. My friend Slim an' I are
+      shore going to have a devil of a time if we can t find them cussed
+      bronchs. Whew, them flapjacks smell like a plain trail to payday. Just
+      think of th' nice maple juice we used to get up to Cheyenne on them frosty
+      mornings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get out of here an' lemme alone! 'What do yu allus want to go an' make a
+      feller unhappy for? Can't yu keep still about grub when yu knows I ain't
+      had my morning's feed yet?&rdquo; Asked Mr. Connors, much aggrieved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp. Yu
+      tend to business an' watch th' herd. That shorthorn yearling at th' end of
+      th' line&rdquo;&mdash;pointing to a young man who looked capable of taking risks&mdash;&ldquo;he
+      looks like he might take a chance an' gamble with yu,&rdquo; remarked Mr.
+      Cassidy, placing Mr. Travennes in front of him and pushing back his own
+      sombrero. &ldquo;Don't put too much maple juice on them flapjacks, Red,&rdquo; he
+      warned as he poked his captive in the back of the neck as a hint to get
+      along. Fortunately Mr. Connors' closing remarks are lost to history.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Observing that Mr. Travennes headed south on the quest, Mr. Cassidy
+      reasoned that the missing bronchos ought to be somewhere in the north, and
+      he postponed the southern trip until such time when they would have more
+      leisure at their disposal. Mr. Travennes showed a strong inclination to
+      shy at this arrangement, but quieted down under persuasion, and they
+      started off toward where Mr. Cassidy firmly believed the North Pole and
+      the cayuses to be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu has got quite a metropolis here,&rdquo; pleasantly remarked Mr. Cassidy as
+      under his direction they made for a distant corral. &ldquo;I can see four
+      different types of architecture, two of 'em on one residence,&rdquo; he
+      continued as they passed a wood and adobe hut. &ldquo;No doubt the railroad will
+      put a branch down here some day an' then yu can hire their old cars for
+      yore public buildings. Then when yu gets a post-office yu will shore make
+      Chicago hustle some to keep her end up. Let's assay that hollow for
+      horse-hide; it looks promisin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hollow was investigated but showed nothing other than cactus and baked
+      alkali. The corral came next, and there too was emptiness. For an hour the
+      search was unavailing, but at the end of that time Mr. Cassidy began to
+      notice signs of nervousness on the part of his guest, which grew less as
+      they proceeded. Then Mr. Cassidy retraced their steps to the place where
+      the nervousness first developed and tried another way and once more
+      returned to the starting point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu seems to hanker for this fool exercise,&rdquo; quoth Mr. Trayennes with much
+      sarcasm. &ldquo;If yu reckons I'm fond of this locoed ramblin' yu shore needs
+      enlightenment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes I do get these fits,&rdquo; confessed Mr. Cassidy, &ldquo;an' when I do I'm
+      dead sore on objections. Let's peek in that there hut,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh; yore ideas of cayuses are mighty peculiar. Why don't you look for
+      'em up on those cactuses or behind that mesquite? I wouldn't be a heap
+      surprised if they was roostin' on th' roof. They are mighty knowing
+      animals, cayuses. I once saw one that could figger like a schoolmarm,&rdquo;
+       remarked Mr. Travennes, beginning sarcastically and toning it down as he
+      proceeded, out of respect for his companion's gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they might be in th' shack,&rdquo; replied Mr. Cassidy. &ldquo;Cayuses know so
+      much that it takes a month to unlearn them. I wouldn't like to bet they
+      ain't in that hut, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes snickered in a manner decidedly uncomplimentary and began to
+      whistle, softly at first. The gentleman from the Bar-20 noticed that his
+      companion was a musician; that when he came to a strong part he increased
+      the tones until they bid to be heard at several hundred yards. When Mr.
+      Travennes had reached a most passionate part in &ldquo;Juanita&rdquo; and was
+      expanding his lungs to do it justice he was rudely stopped by the
+      insistent pressure of his guard's Colt's on the most ticklish part of his
+      ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shore wish yu wouldn't strain yoreself thataway,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy,
+      thinking that Mr. Travennes might be endeavoring to call assistance. &ldquo;I
+      went an' promised my mother on her deathbed that I wouldn't let nobody
+      whistle out loud like that, an' th' opery is hereby stopped. Besides,
+      somebody might hear them mournful tones an' think that something is th'
+      matter, which it ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes substituted heartfelt cursing, all of which was heavily
+      accented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they approached the hut Mr. Cassidy again tickled his prisoner and
+      insisted that he be very quiet, as his cayuse was very sensitive to noise
+      and it might be there. Mr. Cassidy still thought Mr. Travennes might have
+      friends in the hut and wouldn't for the world disturb them, as he would
+      present a splendid target as he approached the building.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. The Tale of a Cigarette
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two of whom
+      were Mexicans. Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt called upon to
+      relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched that
+      gentleman's thigh and then disarmed the sleeping guards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One man an' a half,&rdquo; murmured Mr. Cassidy, it being in his creed that it
+      took four Mexicans to make one Texan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the far corner of the room were two bronchos, one of which tried in
+      vain to kick Mr. Cassidy, not realizing that he was ten feet away. The
+      noise awakened the sleepers, who sat up and then sprang to their feet,
+      their hands instinctively streaking to their thighs for the weapons which
+      peeked contentedly from the bosom of Mr. Cassidy's open shirt. One of the
+      Mexicans made a lightning-like grab for the back of his neck for the knife
+      which lay along his spine and was shot in the front of his neck for his
+      trouble. The shot spoiled his aim, as the knife flashed past Mr. Cassidy's
+      arm, wide by two feet, and thudded into the door frame, where it hummed
+      angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The only man who could do that right was th' man who invented it, Mr.
+      Bowie, of Texas,&rdquo; explained Mr. Cassidy to the other Mexican. Then he
+      glanced at the broncho, that was squealing in rage and fear at the shot,
+      which sounded like a cannon in the small room, and laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's my cayuse, all right, an' he wasn't up no cactus nor roostin' on
+      th' roof, neither. He's th' most affectionate beast I ever saw. It took me
+      nigh onto six months afore I could ride him without fighting him to a
+      standstill,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy to his guest. Then he turned to the horse
+      and looked it over. &ldquo;Come here! What d'yu mean, acting thataway? Yu ragged
+      end of nothin' wobbling in space! Yu wall-eyed, ornery, locoed guide to
+      Hades! Yu won't be so frisky when yu've made them seventy hot miles
+      between here an' Alkaline in five hours,&rdquo; he promised, as he made his way
+      toward the animal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes walked over to the opposite wall and took down a pouch of
+      tobacco which hung from a peg. He did this in a manner suggesting
+      ownership, and after he had deftly rolled a cigarette with one hand he put
+      the pouch in his pocket and, lighting up, inhaled deeply and with much
+      satisfaction. Mr. Cassidy turned around and glanced the group over,
+      wondering if the tobacco had been left in the hut on a former call.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu find yore makings?&rdquo; He asked, with a note of congratulations in
+      his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep. Want one?&rdquo; Asked Mr. Travennes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy ignored the offer and turned to the guard whom he had found
+      asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that his tobacco?&rdquo; He asked, and the guard, anxious to make everything
+      run smoothly, told the truth and answered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore. He left it here last night,&rdquo; whereupon Mr. Travennes swore and Mr.
+      Cassidy smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then yu knows how yore cayuse got in an' how mine got out,&rdquo; said the
+      latter. &ldquo;I wish yu would explain,&rdquo; he added, fondling his Colts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes frowned and remained silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can tell yu, anyhow,&rdquo; continued Mr. Cassidy, still smiling, but his
+      eyes and jaw belied the smile. &ldquo;Yu took them cayuses out because yu wanted
+      yourn to be found in their places. Yu remembered Santa Fe an' it rankled
+      in yu. Not being man enough to notify me that yu'd shoot on sight an'
+      being afraid my friends would get yu if yu plugged me on th' sly, yu tried
+      to make out that me an' Red rustled yore cayuses. That meant a lynching
+      with me an' Red in th' places of honor. Yu never saw Red afore, but yu
+      didn't care if he went with me. Yu don't deserve fair play, but I'm going
+      to give it to yu because I don't want anybody to say that any of th'
+      Bar-20 ever murdered a man, not even a skunk like yu. My friends have
+      treated me too square for that. Yu can take this gun an yu can do one of
+      three things with it, which are: walk out in th' open a hundred paces an'
+      then turn an walk toward me&mdash;after you face me yu can set it a-going
+      whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore hat an' I'll put
+      mine an' th' others back by the cayuses. Then we'll toss up an' th' lucky
+      man gets it to use as he wants. Th' third is, shoot yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the weapon,
+      muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at &ldquo;twirling,&rdquo; he
+      kept its recipient covered during the operation. Then, placing his second
+      Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them through the door, being
+      very careful not to lose the drop on his now armed prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead, and
+      being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked to the
+      east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway to the
+      meridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected from the
+      shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and interfere with
+      the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for small favors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the lay of
+      the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small but deep hole
+      out toward the east and that it was about the required distance away. This
+      had been dug by a man who had labored all day in the burning sun to make
+      an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in the manner he had seen the
+      Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed hobbies, specific and general,
+      stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared from sight as the surprised Mr.
+      Cassidy started forward to offer his assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that his help was not
+      needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste covered the distance
+      separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr. Travennes swore in
+      self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots barked a cactus which
+      leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked several clouds of alkali near
+      that person's nose, causing him to sneeze, duck, and grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's his own gun,&rdquo; grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through his
+      sombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had a whole belt full
+      of .44's. If it had been Mr. Cassidy's gun that had been handed over he
+      would have enjoyed the joke on Mr. Travennes, who would have had five
+      cartridges between himself and the promised eternity, as he would have
+      been unable to use the .44's in Mr. Cassidy's .45, while the latter would
+      have gladly consented to the change, having as he did an extra .45. Never
+      before had Mr. Cassidy looked with reproach upon his .45 caliber Colt's,
+      and he sighed as he used it to notify Mr. Travennes that arbitration was
+      not to be considered, which that person indorsed, said indorsement passing
+      so close to Mr. Cassidy's ear that he felt the breeze made by it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's been practicin' since I plugged him up in Santa Fe,&rdquo; thought Mr.
+      Cassidy, as he retired around the hut to formulate a plan of campaign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes sang &ldquo;Hi-le, hi-lo,&rdquo; and other selections, principally
+      others, and wondered how Mr. Cassidy could hoist him out. The slack of his
+      belt informed him that he was in the middle of a fast, and suggested
+      starvation as the derrick that his honorable and disgusted adversary might
+      employ.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy, while figuring out his method of procedure, absent-mindedly
+      jabbed a finger in his eye, and the ensuing tears floated an idea to him.
+      He had always had great respect for ricochet shots since his friend Skinny
+      Thompson had proved their worth on the hides of Sioux. If he could disturb
+      the sand and convey several grains of it to Mr. Travennes' eyes the game
+      would be much simplified. While planning for the proposed excavation, a la
+      Colt's, he noticed several stones lying near at hand, and a new and better
+      scheme presented itself for his consideration. If Mr. Travennes could be
+      persuaded to get out of&mdash;well, it was worth trying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy lined up his gloomy collection and tersely ordered them to
+      turn their backs to him and to stay in that position, the suggestion being
+      that if they looked around they wouldn't be able to dodge quickly enough.
+      He then slipped bits of his lariat over their wrists and ankles, tying
+      wrists to ankles and each man to his neighbor. That finished to his
+      satisfaction, he dragged them in the hut to save them from the burning
+      rays of the sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having performed this act of kindness, he crept along the hot sand, taking
+      advantage of every bit of cover afforded, and at last he reached a point
+      within a hundred feet of the besieged. During the trip Mr. Travennes sang
+      to his heart's content, some of the words being improvised for the
+      occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr. Cassidy's respect for his
+      own wisdom if he should hear them. Mr. Cassidy heard, however, and several
+      fragments so forcibly intruded on his peace of mind that he determined to
+      put on the last verse himself and to suit himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut. He was
+      down again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him and he
+      believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of the building,
+      which caused him to fear that he was expected to live on nothing as long
+      as he could and then give himself up. Just to show his defiance he
+      stretched himself out on his back and sang with all his might, his
+      sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out of his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he had intended,
+      and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg. Looking up, he saw
+      another missile curve into his patch of sky and swiftly bear down on him.
+      He avoided it by a hair's breadth and wondered what had happened. Then
+      what Mr. Travennes thought was a balloon, being unsophisticated in matters
+      pertaining to aerial navigation, swooped down upon him and smote him on
+      the shoulder and also bounced off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up elocution as he dodged
+      another stone and wished that the mesquite-loving crank had put on a roof.
+      In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on a level with the
+      desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through his head-gear and
+      into the opposite wall made him wish that there had been constructed a
+      cellar, also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi-le, hi-lo&rdquo; intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of the
+      surplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's foot shaved
+      Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest his enemy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hibernate, blank yu!&rdquo; derisively shouted the human catapult as he
+      released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail. &ldquo;Draw in yore laigs an'
+      buck,&rdquo; was his God-speed to the missile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu!&rdquo; indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective storm
+      cellar. &ldquo;Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi-le, hi-lo,&rdquo; sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in the
+      direction of the complainant. Then he stood erect and awaited results with
+      a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole. A hat waved and an
+      excited voice bit off chunks of expostulation and asked for an armistice.
+      Then two hands shot up and Mr. Travennes, sore and disgusted and
+      desperate, popped his head up an blinked at Mr. Cassidy's gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu was fillin' th' hole up,&rdquo; remarked Mr. Travennes in an accusing tone,
+      hiding the real reason for his evacuation. &ldquo;In a little while I'd a been
+      th' top of a pile instead of th' bottom of a hole,&rdquo; he announced, crawling
+      out and rubbing his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy grinned and ordered his prisoner to one side while be secured
+      the weapon which lay in the hole. Having obtained it as quickly as
+      possible be slid it in his open shirt and clambered out again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu remind me of a feller I used to know,&rdquo; remarked Mr. Travennes, as he
+      led the way to the hut, trying not to limp. &ldquo;Only he throwed dynamite.
+      That was th' way he cleared off chaparral&mdash;blowed it off. He got so
+      used to heaving away everything he lit that he spoiled three pipes in two
+      days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy laughed at the fiction and then became grave as he pictured
+      Mr. Connors sitting on the rock and facing down a line of men, any one of
+      whom was capable of his destruction if given the interval of a second.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they arrived at the hut Mr. Cassidy observed that the prisoners had
+      moved considerably. There was a cleanly swepttrail four yards long where
+      they had dragged themselves, and they sat in the end nearer the guns. Mr.
+      Cassidy smiled and fired close to the Mexican's ear, who lost in one
+      frightened jump a little of what he had so laboriously gained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu'll wear out yore pants,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy, and then added grimly, &ldquo;an'
+      my patience.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Travennes smiled and thought of the man who so ably seconded Mr.
+      Cassidy's efforts and who was probably shot by this time. The outfit of
+      the Bar-20 was so well known throughout the land that he was aware the
+      name of the other was Red Connors. An unreasoning streak of sarcasm swept
+      over him and he could not resist the opportunity to get in a stab at his
+      captor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mebby yore pard has wore out somebody's patience, too,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.
+      Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy, trembling with
+      scorn and anger, &ldquo;so yu can pull yourself together. I'll give yu another
+      chance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K. If he ain't,
+      I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts yu'll make a good
+      acre of weeds. If he is all right yu'd better vamoose this range, for
+      there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into next time. What friends yu
+      have left will have to tote yu off an' plant yu,&rdquo; he finished with
+      emphasis. He drove the horses outside, and, after severing the bonds on
+      his prisoners, lined them up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu,&rdquo; he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, &ldquo;yu amble right smart
+      toward Canada,&rdquo; pointing to the north. &ldquo;Keep a-going till yu gets far
+      enough away so a Colt won't find yu.&rdquo; Here he grinned with delight as he
+      saw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and, drawing it forth,
+      he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who were already
+      industriously plodding northward. &ldquo;Hey!&rdquo; he shouted, and when they
+      sullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he gleefully waved his
+      rifle at them and warned them further: &ldquo;This is a Sharp's an' it's good
+      for half a mile, so don't stop none too soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having sent them directly away from their friends so they could not have
+      him &ldquo;potted&rdquo; on the way back, he mounted his broncho and indicated to Mr.
+      Travennes that he, too, was to ride, watching that that person did not
+      make use of the Winchester which Mr. Connors was foolish enough to carry
+      around on his saddle. Winchesters were Mr. Cassidy's pet aversion and Mr.
+      Connors' most prized possession, this difference of opinion having upon
+      many occasions caused hasty words between them. Mr. Connors, being better
+      with his Winchester than Mr. Cassidy was with his Sharp's, had frequently
+      proved that his choice was the wiser, but Mr. Cassidy was loyal to the
+      Sharp's and refused to be convinced. Now, however, the Winchester became
+      pregnant with possibilities and, therefore, Mr. Travennes rode a few yards
+      to the left and in advance, where the rifle was in plain sight, hanging as
+      it did on the right of Mr. Connors' saddle, which Mr. Travennes graced so
+      well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The journey back to town was made in good time and when they came to the
+      buildings Mr. Cassidy dismounted and bade his companion do likewise, there
+      being too many corners that a fleeing rider could take advantage of. Mr.
+      Travennes felt of his bumps and did so, wishing hard things about Mr.
+      Cassidy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. The Penalty
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While Mr. Travennes had been entertained in the manner narrated, Mr.
+      Connors had passed the time by relating stale jokes to the uproarious
+      laughter of his extremely bored audience, who had heard the aged efforts
+      many times since they had first seen the light of day, and most of whom
+      earnestly longed for a drink. The landlord, hearing the hilarity, had
+      taken advantage of the opportunity offered to see a free show. Not being
+      able to see what the occasion was for the mirth, he had pulled on his
+      boots and made his way to the show with a flapjack in the skillets which,
+      in his haste, he had forgotten to put down. He felt sure that he would be
+      entertained, and he was not disappointed. He rounded the corner and was
+      enthusiastically welcomed by the hungry Mr. Connors, whose ubiquitous guns
+      coaxed from the skillet its dyspeptic wad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' saints be praised!&rdquo; ejaculated Mr. Connors as a matter of form, not
+      having a very clear idea of just what saints were, but he knew what
+      flapjacks were and greedily overcame the heroic resistance of the one
+      provided by chance and his own guns. As he rolled his eyes in ecstatic
+      content the very man Mr. Cassidy had warned him against suddenly arose and
+      in great haste disappeared around the corner of the corral, from which
+      point of vantage he vented his displeasure at the treatment he had
+      received by wasting six shots at the mortified Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Steady!&rdquo; sang out that gentleman as the line-up wavered. &ldquo;He's a
+      precedent to hell for yu fellers! Don't yu get ambitious, none whatever.&rdquo;
+       Then he wondered how long it would take the fugitive to secure a rifle and
+      return to release the others by drilling him at long range.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His thoughts were interrupted by the vision of a red head that climbed
+      into view over a rise a short distance off and he grinned his delight as
+      Mr. Cassidy loomed up, jaunty and triumphant. Mr. Cassidy was executing
+      calisthenics with a Colt in the rear of Mr. Travennes' neck and was
+      leading the horses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors waved the skillet and his friend grinned his congratulations
+      at what the token signified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see yu got some more,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy, as he went down the line-up
+      from the rear and collected nineteen weapons of various makes and
+      conditions, this number being explained by the fact that all but one of
+      the prisoners wore two. Then he added the five that had kicked against his
+      ribs ever since he had left the hut, and carefully threaded the end of his
+      lariat through the trigger guards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Looks like we stuck up a government supply mule, Red,&rdquo; he remarked, as he
+      fastened the whole collection to his saddle. &ldquo;Fourteen colts, six
+      Merwin-Hulbert's, three Prescott, an' one puzzle,&rdquo; he added, examining the
+      puzzle. &ldquo;Made in Germany, it says, and it shore looks like it. It's got
+      little pins stickin' out of th' cylinder, like you had to swat it with a
+      hammer or a rock, or somethin' to make it go off. Must be damn dangerous,
+      to most anybody around. Looks more like a cactus than a six-shooter-gosh,
+      it's a ten-shooter! I allus said them Dutchmen was bloody-minded cusses.
+      Think of bein' able to shoot yoreself ten times before th' blame thing
+      stops!&rdquo; Then looking at the line-up for the owner of the weapon, he
+      laughed at the woeful countenances displayed. &ldquo;Did they sidle in by
+      companies or squads?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By twos, mostly. Then they parade-rested an' got discharged from duty. I
+      had eleven, but one got homesick, or disgusted, or something, an'
+      deserted. It was that cussed flapjack,&rdquo; confessed and explained Mr.
+      Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy in a loud voice. &ldquo;Got away! Well, we'll have to
+      make our get-away plumb sudden or we'll never go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant the escaped man again began his bombardment from the
+      corner of the corral and Mr. Cassidy paused, indignant at the fusillade
+      which tore up the dust at his feet. He looked reproachfully at Mr. Connors
+      and then circled out on the plain until he caught a glimpse of a fleeing
+      cow-puncher, whose back rapidly grew smaller in the fast-increasing
+      distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's yore friend, Red,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy as he returned from his
+      reconnaissance. &ldquo;He's that short-horn yearling. Mebby he'll come back
+      again,&rdquo; he added hopefully. &ldquo;Anyhow, we've got to move. He'll collect
+      reinforcements an' mebby they all won't shoot like him. Get up on yore
+      Clarinda an' hold th' fort for me,&rdquo; he ordered, pushing the farther horse
+      over to his friend. Mr. Connors proved that an agile man can mount a
+      restless horse and not lose the drop, and backed off three hundred yards,
+      deftly substituting his Winchester for the Colts. Then Mr. Cassidy
+      likewise mounted with his attention riveted elsewhere and backed off to
+      the side of his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bombardment commenced again from the corral, but this time Mr.
+      Connors' rifle slid around in his lap and exploded twice. The bellicose
+      gentleman of the corral yelled in pain and surprise and vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Purty good for a Winchester,&rdquo; said Mr. Cassidy in doubtful
+      congratulation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's why I got him,&rdquo; snapped Mr. Connors in brief reply, and then he
+      laughed. &ldquo;Is them th' vigilantes what never let a man get away?&rdquo; He
+      scornfully asked, backing down the street and patting his Winchester.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Red, they wasn't all there. They was only twelve all told,&rdquo; excused
+      Mr. Cassidy. &ldquo;An' then we was two,&rdquo; he explained, as he wished the
+      collection of six-shooters was on Mr. Connors' horse so they wouldn't bark
+      his shin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An we still are,&rdquo; corrected Mr. Connors, as they wheeled and galloped for
+      Alkaline.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the sun sank low on the horizon Mr. Peters finished ordering provisions
+      at the general store, the only one Alkaline boasted, and sauntered to the
+      saloon where he had left his men. He found diem a few dollars richer, as
+      they had borrowed ten dollars from the bartender on their reputations as
+      poker players and had used the money to stake Mr. McAllister in a game
+      against the local poker champion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has Hopalong an' Red showed up yet?&rdquo; Asked Mr. Peters, frowning at the
+      delay already caused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope,&rdquo; replied Johnny Nelson, as he paused from tormenting Billy
+      Williams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that minute the doorway was darkened and Mr. Cassidy and Mr. Connors
+      entered and called for refreshments. Mr. Cassidy dropped a huge bundle of
+      six-shooters on the floor, making caustic remarks regarding their utility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's th' matter?&rdquo; Inquired Mr. Peters of Mr. Cassidy. &ldquo;Yu looks mad an'
+      anxious. An' where in blazes did yu corral them guns?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy drank deep and then reported with much heat what had occurred
+      at Cactus Springs and added that he wanted to go back and wipe out the
+      town, said desire being luridly endorsed by Mr. Connors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, shore,&rdquo; said Mr. Peters, &ldquo;we'll all go. Such doings must be stopped
+      instanter.&rdquo; Then he turned to the assembled outfits and asked for a vote,
+      which was unanimous for war.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shortly afterward eighteen angry cowpunchers rode to the east, two
+      red-haired gentlemen well in front and urging speed. It was 8 P.M. when
+      they left Alkaline, and the cool of the night was so delightful that the
+      feeling of ease which came upon them made them lax and they lost three
+      hours in straying from the dim trail. At eight o'clock the next morning
+      they came in sight of their destination and separated into two squads, Mr.
+      Cassidy leading the northern division and Mr. Connors the one which
+      circled to the south. The intention was to attack from two directions,
+      thus taking the town from front and rear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cactus Springs lay gasping in the excessive heat and the vigilantes who
+      had toed Mr. Connors' line the day before were lounging in the shade of
+      the &ldquo;Palace&rdquo; saloon, telling what they would do if they ever faced the
+      same man again. Half a dozen sympathizers offered gratuitous condolence
+      and advice and all were positive that they knew where Mr. Cassidy and Mr.
+      Connors would go when they died.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The rolling thunder of madly pounding hoofs disturbed their post-mortem
+      and they arose in a body to flee from half their number, who, guns in
+      hands, charged down upon them through clouds of sickly white smoke.
+      Travennes' Terrors were minus many weapons and they could not be expected
+      to give a glorious account of themselves. Windows rattled and fell in and
+      doors and walls gave off peculiar sounds as they grew full of holes. Above
+      the riot rattled the incessant crack of Colt's and Winchester, emphasized
+      at close intervals by the assertive roar of buffalo guns. Off to the south
+      came another rumble of hoofs and Mr. Connors, leading the second squad,&mdash;arrived
+      to participate in the payment of the debt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smoke spurted from windows and other points of vantage and hung wavering
+      in the heated air. The shattering of woodwork told of heavy slugs finding
+      their rest, and the whines that grew and diminished in the air sang the
+      course of .45s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the fight raged hottest Mr. Nelson sprang from his horse and ran to
+      the &ldquo;Palace,&rdquo; where he collected and piled a heap of tinder like wood, and
+      soon the building burst out in flames, which, spreading, swept the town
+      from end to end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy fired slowly and seemed to be waiting for something. Mr.
+      Connors laid aside his hot Winchester and devoted his attention to his
+      Colts. A spurt of flame and smoke leaped from the window of a 'dobe hut
+      and Mr. Connors sat down, firing as he went. A howl from the window
+      informed him that he had made a hit, and Mr. Cassidy ran out and dragged
+      him to the shelter of a near-by bowlder and asked how much he was hurt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much&mdash;in the calf,&rdquo; grunted Mr. Connors. &ldquo;He was a bad shot&mdash;must
+      have been the cuss that got away yesterday,&rdquo; speculated the injured man as
+      he slowly arose to his feet. Mr. Cassidy dissented from force of habit and
+      returned to his station. Mr. Travennes, who was sleeping late that
+      morning, coughed and fought for air in his sleep, awakened in smoke,
+      rubbed his eyes to make sure and, scorning trousers and shirt, ran clad in
+      his red woolen undergarments to the corral, where he mounted his scared
+      horse and rode for the desert and safety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy, swearing at the marksmanship of a man who fired at his head
+      and perforated his sombrero, saw a crimson rider sweep down upon him, said
+      rider being heralded by a blazing .44.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gosh!&rdquo; ejaculated Mr. Cassidy, scarcely believing his eyes. &ldquo;Oh, it's my
+      friend Slim going to hades,&rdquo; he remarked to himself in audible and
+      relieved explanation. Mr. Cassidy's Colts cracked a protest and then he
+      joined Mr. Peters and the others and with them fought his way out of the
+      flame-swept town of Cactus Springs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour later Mr. Connors glanced behind him at the smoke silhouetted on
+      the horizon and pushed his way to where Mr. Cassidy rode in silence. Mr.
+      Connors grinned at his friend of the red hair, who responded in the same
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu see Slim?&rdquo; Casually inquired Mr. Connors, looking off to the
+      south.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cassidy sat upright in his saddle and felt of his Colts. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he
+      replied, &ldquo;I saw him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Connors thereupon galloped on in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. Rustlers on the Range
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The affair at Cactus Springs had more effect on the life at the Bar-20
+      than was realized by the foreman. News travels rapidly, and certain men,
+      whose attributes were not of the sweetest, heard of it and swore
+      vengeance, for Slim Travennes had many friends, and the result of his
+      passing began to show itself. Outlaws have as their strongest defense the
+      fear which they inspire, and little time was lost in making reprisals, and
+      these caused Buck Peters to ride into Buckskin one bright October morning
+      and then out the other side of the town. Coming to himself with a start he
+      looked around shamefacedly and retraced his course. He was very much
+      troubled, for, as foreman of the Bar-20, he had many responsibilities, and
+      when things ceased to go aright he was expected not only to find the cause
+      of the evil, but also the remedy. That was what he was paid seventy
+      dollars a month for and that was what he had been endeavoring to do. As
+      yet, however, he had only accomplished what the meanest cook's assistant
+      had done. He knew the cause of his present woes to be rustlers (cattle
+      thieves), and that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Riding down the wide, quiet street, he stopped and dismounted before the
+      ever-open door of a ramshackle, one-story frame building. Tossing the
+      reins over the flattened ears of his vicious pinto he strode into the
+      building and leaned easily against the bar, where he drummed with his
+      fingers and sank into a reverie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A shining bald pate, bowed over an open box, turned around and revealed a
+      florid face, set with two small, twinkling blue eyes, as the proprietor,
+      wiping his hands on his trousers, made his way to Buck's end of the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin', Buck. How's things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The foreman, lost in his reverie, continued to stare out the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin',&rdquo; repeated the man behind the bar. &ldquo;How's things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; ejaculated the foreman, smiling, &ldquo;purty cussed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anything flew?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' C-80 lost another herd last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, but the
+      latter shook his head. &ldquo;Not this mornin'&mdash;I'll try one of them vile
+      cigars, however.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them cigars are th' very best that&mdash;&rdquo; began the proprietor,
+      executing the order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, heck!&rdquo; exclaimed Buck with weary disgust. &ldquo;Yu don't have to palaver
+      none: I shore knows all that by heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them cigars&mdash;&rdquo; repeated the proprietor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yas, yas; them cigars&mdash;I know all about them cigars. Yu gets them
+      for twenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a hundred,&rdquo;
+       replied the foreman, biting off the end 'of his weed. Then he stared
+      moodily and frowned. &ldquo;I wonder why it is?&rdquo; He asked. &ldquo;We punchers like
+      good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What do we get? Why,
+      cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol an' extract for our
+      drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a sumptious layout, pays less an'
+      gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one of them K. C. cigars yu'd shore have
+      to ask what it was, an' as for the liquor, why, yu'd think St. Peter asked
+      yu to have one with him. It's shore wrong somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have more trade in K. C.,&rdquo; suggested the proprietor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,
+      mahogany an' French mirrors,&rdquo; countered the foreman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have more trade,&rdquo; reiterated the man with the cigars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forty men spend thirty dollars apiece with yu every month.&rdquo; The
+      proprietor busied himself under the bar. &ldquo;Yu'll feel better to-morrow.
+      Anyway, what do yu care, yu won't lose yore job,&rdquo; he said, emerging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck looked at him and frowned, holding back the words which formed in
+      anger. What was the use, he thought, when every man judged the world in
+      his own way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have yu seen any of th' boys?&rdquo; He asked, smiling again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nary a boy. Who do yu reckon's doin' all this rustlin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm reckonin', not shoutin',&rdquo; responded the foreman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor looked out the window and grinned: &ldquo;Here comes one of yourn
+      now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The newcomer stopped his horse in a cloud of dust, playfully kicked the
+      animal in the ribs and entered, dusting the alkali from him with a huge
+      sombrero. Then he straightened up and sniffed: &ldquo;What's burnin'?&rdquo; he asked,
+      simulating alarm. Then he noticed the cigar between the teeth of his
+      foreman and grinned: &ldquo;Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Hopalong,&rdquo; said the foreman. &ldquo;Want a smoke?&rdquo; Waving his hand
+      toward the box on the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette: &ldquo;Shore,
+      but I'll burn my own&mdash;I know what it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was yu doin' to my cayuse afore yu come in?&rdquo; Asked Buck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin',&rdquo; replied the newcomer. &ldquo;That was mine what I kicked in th'
+      corrugations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is it yore ridin' the calico?&rdquo; Asked the foreman. &ldquo;I thought yu was
+      dead stuck on that piebald.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That piebald's a goat; he's beein livin' off my pants lately,&rdquo; responded
+      Hopalong. &ldquo;Every time I looks th' other way he ambles over and takes a
+      bite at me. Yu just wait 'til this rustler business is roped, an' branded,
+      an' yu'll see me eddicate that blessed scrapheap into eatin' grass again.&rdquo;
+       He swiped Billy's shirt th' other day&mdash;took it right off th' corral
+      wall, where Billy's left it to dry. Then, seeing Buck raise his eyebrows,
+      he explained: &ldquo;Shore, he washed it again. That makes three times since
+      last fall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor laughed and pushed out the ever-ready bottle, but Hopalong
+      shoved it aside and told the reason: &ldquo;Ever since I was up to K. C. I've
+      been spoiled. I'm drinkin' water an' slush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Pete's sake, has any more of yu fellers been up to K. C.?&rdquo; queried
+      the proprietor in alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore: Red an' Billy was up there, too.&rdquo; responded Hopalong. &ldquo;Red's got a
+      few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer. Yu better send for some
+      decent stuff afore he comes to town,&rdquo; he warned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar. Then he turned
+      to Hopalong. &ldquo;What did you find?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain&mdash;then
+      nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shore beats me,&rdquo; soliloquized the foreman. &ldquo;It shore beats me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think it was Tamale Jose's old gang?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it was they took th' wrong trail home&mdash;that ain't th' way to
+      Mexico.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong tossed aside his half-smoked cigarette. &ldquo;Well, come on home;
+      what's th' use stewin' over it? It'll come out all O.K. in th' wash.&rdquo; Then
+      he laughed: &ldquo;There won't be no piebald waitin' for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Evading Buck's playful blow he led the way to the door, and soon they were
+      a cloud of dust on the plain. The proprietor, despairing of customers
+      under the circumstances, absent-mindedly wiped oil on the bar, and sought
+      his chair for a nap, grumbling about the way his trade had fallen off, for
+      there were few customers, and those who did call were heavy with loss of
+      sleep, and with anxiety, and only paused long enough to toss off their
+      drink. On the ranges there were occurrences which tried men's souls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For several weeks cattle had been disappearing from the ranges and the
+      losses had long since passed the magnitude of those suffered when Tamale
+      Jose and his men had crossed the Rio Grande and repeatedly levied heavy
+      toll on the sleek herds of the Pecos Valley. Tamale Jose had raided once
+      too often, and prosperity and plenty had followed on the ranches and the
+      losses had been forgotten until the fall round-ups clearly showed that
+      rustlers were again at work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the ingenuity of the ranch owners and the unceasing vigilance and
+      night rides of the cow-punchers, the losses steadily increased until there
+      was promised a shortage which would permit no drive to the western
+      terminals of the railroad that year. For two weeks the banks of the Rio
+      Grande had been patrolled and sharp-eyed men searched daily for trails
+      leading southward, for it was not strange to think that the old raiders
+      were again at work, notwithstanding the fact that they had paid dearly for
+      their former depredations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The patrols failed to discover anything out of the ordinary and the
+      searchers found no trails. Then it was that the owners and foremen of the
+      four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon and sat closeted together for
+      all of one hot afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the ranches
+      represented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode north, his
+      destination being far-away Montana. All the ranches within a radius of a
+      hundred miles received letters and blanks and one week later the Pecos
+      Valley Cattle-Thief Elimination Association was organized and working,
+      with Buck as Chief Ranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the outcomes of Buck's appointment was a sudden and marked
+      immigration into the affected territory. Mr. Connors returned from Montana
+      with Mr. Frenchy McAllister, the foreman of the Tin-Cup, who was
+      accompanied by six of his best and most trusted men. Mr. McAllister and
+      party were followed by Mr. You-bet Somes, foreman of the Two-X-Two of
+      Arizona, and five of his punchers, and later on the same day Mr. Pie
+      Willis, accompanied by Mr. Billy Jordan and his two brothers, arrived from
+      the Panhandle. The O-Bar-O, situated close to the town of Muddy Wells,
+      increased its payroll by the addition of nine men, each of whom bore the
+      written recommendation of the foreman of the Bar-20. The C-80, Double
+      Arrow and the Three Triangle also received heavy reinforcements, and even
+      Carter, owner of the Barred Horseshoe, far removed from the zone of the
+      depredations, increased his outfits by half their regular strength.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck believed that if a thing was worth doing at all that it was worth
+      doing very well, and his acquaintances were numerous and loyal. The
+      collection of individuals that responded to the call were noteworthy
+      examples of &ldquo;gun-play&rdquo; and their aggregate value was at par with twice
+      their numbers in cavalry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each ranch had one large ranch-house and numerous line-houses scattered
+      along the boundaries. These latter, while intended as camps for the
+      outriders, had been erected in the days, none too remote, when Apaches,
+      Arrapahoes, and even Cheyennes raided southward, and they had been
+      constructed with the idea of defense paramount. Upon more than one
+      occasion a solitary line-rider had retreated within their adobe walls and
+      had successfully resisted all the cunning and ferocity of a score of
+      paint-bedaubed warriors and, when his outfit had rescued him, emerged none
+      the worse for his ordeal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the Bar-20, Buck placed these houses in condition to withstand seige.
+      Twin barrels of water stood in opposite corners, provisions were stored on
+      the hanging shelves and the bunks once again reveled in untidiness. Spare
+      rifles, in pattern ranging from long-range Sharp's and buffalo guns to
+      repeating rifles, leaned against the walls, and unbroken boxes of
+      cartridges were piled above the bunks. Instead of the lonesome outrider,
+      he placed four men to each house, two of whom were to remain at home and
+      hold the house while their companions rode side by side on their
+      multi-mile beat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were six of these houses and, instead of returning each night to the
+      same line-house, the outriders kept on and made the circuit, thus keeping
+      every one well informed and breaking the monotony. These measures were
+      expected to cause the rustling operations to cease at once, but the effect
+      was to shift the losses to the Double Arrow, the line-houses of which
+      boasted only one puncher each. Unreasonable economy usually defeats its
+      object.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Double Arrow was restricted on the north by the Staked Plain, which in
+      itself was considered a superb defense. The White Sand Hills formed its
+      eastern boundary and were thought to be second only to the northern
+      protection. The only reason that could be given for the hitherto
+      comparative immunity from the attacks of the rustlers was that its cattle
+      clung to the southern confines where there were numerous springs, thus
+      making imperative the crossing of its territory to gain the herds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in line-house No. 3, most remote of all, that Johnny Redmond fought
+      his last fight and was found face down in the half ruined house with a
+      hole in the back of his head, which proved that one man was incapable of
+      watching all the loop holes in four walls at once. There must have been
+      some casualties on the other side, for Johnny was reputed to be very
+      painstaking in his &ldquo;gunplay,&rdquo; and the empty shells which lay scattered on
+      the floor did not stand for as many ciphers, of that his foreman was
+      positive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was buried the day he was found, and the news of his death ran quickly
+      from ranch to ranch and made more than one careless puncher arise and pace
+      the floor in anger. More men came to the Double Arrow and its sentries
+      were doubled. The depredations continued, however, and one night a week
+      later Frank Swift reeled into the ranch-house and fell exhausted across
+      the supper table. Rolling hoof-beats echoed flatly and died away on the
+      plain, but the men who pursued them returned empty handed. The wounds of
+      the unfortunate were roughly dressed and in his delirium he recounted the
+      fight. His companion was found literally shot to pieces twenty paces from
+      the door. One wall was found blown in, and this episode, when coupled with
+      the use of dynamite, was more than could be tolerated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Buck had been informed of this he called to him Hopalong Cassidy, Red
+      Connors and Frenchy McAllister, and the next day the three men rode north
+      and the contingents of the ranches represented in the Association were
+      divided into two squads, one of which was to remain at home and guard the
+      ranches; the other, to sleep fully dressed and armed and never to stray
+      far from their ranch-houses and horses. These latter would be called upon
+      to ride swiftly and far when the word came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Trendley Assumes Added Importance
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      That the rustlers were working under a well organized system was evident.
+      That they were directed by a master of the game was ceaselessly beaten
+      into the consciousness of the Association by the diversity, dash and
+      success of their raids. No one, save the three men whom they had
+      destroyed, had ever seen them. But, like Tamale Jose, they had raided once
+      too often.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Trendley, more familiarly known to men as &ldquo;Slippery,&rdquo; was the
+      possessor of a biased conscience, if any at all. Tall, gaunt and
+      weather-beaten and with coal-black eyes set deep beneath hairless
+      eyebrows, he was sinister and forbidding. Into his forty-five years of
+      existence he had crowded a century of experience, and unsavory rumors
+      about him existed in all parts of the great West. From Canada to Mexico
+      and from Sacramento to Westport his name stood for brigandage. His
+      operations had been conducted with such consummate cleverness that in all
+      the accusations there was lacking proof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only once had he erred, and then in the spirit of pure deviltry and in the
+      days of youthful folly, and his mistake was a written note. He was even
+      thought by some to have been concerned in the Mountain Meadow Massacre;
+      others thought him to have been the leader of the band of outlaws that had
+      plundered along the Santa Fe Trail in the late '60's. In Montana and
+      Wyoming he was held responsible for the outrages of the band that had
+      descended from the Hole-in-the-Wall territory and for over a hundred miles
+      carried murder and theft that shamed as being weak the most assiduous
+      efforts of zealous Cheyennes. It was in this last raid that he had made
+      the mistake and it was in this raid that Frenchy McAllister had lost his
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Frenchy had first been approached by Buck as to his going in search
+      of the rustlers he had asked to go alone. This had been denied by the
+      foreman of the Bar-20 because the men whom he had selected to accompany
+      the scout were of such caliber that their presence could not possibly form
+      a hindrance. Besides being his most trusted friends they were regarded by
+      him as being the two best exponents of &ldquo;gun-play&rdquo; that the West afforded.
+      Each was a specialist: Hopalong, expert beyond belief with his Colt's
+      six-shooters, was only approached by Red, whose Winchester was renowned
+      for its accuracy. The three made a perfect combination, as the rashness of
+      the two younger men would be under the controlling influence of a man who
+      could retain his coolness of mind under all circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Buck and Frenchy looked into each other's eyes there sprang into the
+      mind of each the same name&mdash;Slippery Trendley. Both had spent the
+      greater part of a year in fruitless search for that person, the foreman of
+      the Tin-Cup in vengeance for the murder of his wife, the blasting of his
+      prospects and the loss of his herds; Buck, out of sympathy for his friend
+      and also because they had been partners in the Double Y. Now that the
+      years had passed and the long-sought-for opportunity was believed to be at
+      hand, there was promised either a cessation of the outrages or that Buck
+      would never again see his friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the three mounted and came to him for final instructions Buck forced
+      himself to be almost repellent in order to be capable of coherent speech.
+      Hopalong glanced sharply at him and then understood, Red was all attention
+      and eagerness and remarked nothing but the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have yu ever heard of Slippery Trendley?&rdquo; Harshly inquired the foreman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They nodded, and on the faces of the younger men a glint of hatred showed
+      itself, but Frenchy wore his poker countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck continued: &ldquo;Th' reason I asked yu was because I don't want yu to
+      think yore goin' on no picnic. I ain't shore it's him, but I've had some
+      hopeful information. Besides, he is th' only man I knows of who's capable
+      of th' plays that have been made. It's hardly necessary for me to tell yu
+      to sleep with one eye open and never to get away from yore guns. Now I'm
+      goin' to tell yu th' hardest part: yu are goin' to search th' Staked Plain
+      from one end to th' other, an' that's what no white man's ever done to my
+      knowledge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, listen to this an' don't forget it. Twenty miles north from Last
+      Stand Rock is a spring; ten miles south of that bend in Hell Arroyo is
+      another. If yu gets lost within two days from th' time yu enters th'
+      Plain, put yore left hand on a cactus sometime between sun-up an' noon,
+      move around until yu are over its shadow an' then ride straight ahead&mdash;that's
+      south. If you goes loco beyond Last Stand Rock, follow th' shadows made
+      before noon&mdash;that's th' quickest way to th' Pecos. Yu all knows what
+      to do in a sand-storm, so I won't bore you with that. Repeat all I've told
+      yu,&rdquo; he ordered and they complied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm tellin' yu this,&rdquo; continued the foreman, indicating the two
+      auxiliaries, &ldquo;because yu might get separated from Frenchy. Now I suggests
+      that yu look around near the' Devils Rocks: I've heard that there are
+      several water holes among them, an' besides, they might be turned into
+      fair corrals. Mind yu, I know what I've said sounds damned idiotic for
+      anybody that has had as much experience with th' Staked Plain as I have,
+      but I've had every other place searched for miles around. Th' men of all
+      th' ranches have been scoutin' an' th' Plain is th' only place left. Them
+      rustlers has got to be found if we have to dig to hell for them. They've
+      taken th' pot so many times that they reckons they owns it, an' we've got
+      to at least make a bluff at drawin' cards. Mebby they're at th' bottom of
+      th' Pecos,&rdquo; here he smiled faintly, &ldquo;but wherever they are, we've got to
+      find them. I want to holler 'Keno.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you finds where they hangs out come away instanter,&rdquo; here his face
+      hardened and his eyes narrowed, &ldquo;for it'll take more than yu three to deal
+      with them th' way I'm a-hankerin' for. Come right back to th' Double
+      Arrow, send me word by one of their punchers an' get all the rest you can
+      afore I gets there. It'll take me a day to get th' men together an' to
+      reach yu. I'm goin' to use smoke signals to call th' other ranches, so
+      there won't be no time lost. Carry all th' water yu can pack when yu
+      leaves th' Double Arrow an' don't depend none on cactus juice. Yu better
+      take a pack horse to carry it, an' yore grub&mdash;yu can shoot it if yu
+      have to hit th' trail real hard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The three riders felt of their accouterments, said &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; and cantered
+      off for the pack horse and extra ammunition. Then they rode toward the
+      Double Arrow, stopping at Cowan's long enough to spend some money, and
+      reached the Double Arrow at nightfall. Early the next morning they passed
+      the last line-house and, with the profane well-wishes of its occupants
+      ringing in their ears, passed onto one of Nature's worst blunders&mdash;the
+      Staked Plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. The Search Begins
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As the sun arose it revealed three punchers riding away from civilization.
+      On all sides, stretching to the evil-appearing horizon, lay vast blotches
+      of dirty-white and faded yellow alkali and sand. Occasionally a dwarfed
+      mesquite raised its prickly leaves and rustled mournfully. With the
+      exception of the riders and an occasional Gila monster, no life was
+      discernible. Cacti of all shapes and sizes reared aloft their forbidding
+      spines or spread out along the sand. All was dead, ghastly; all was
+      oppressive, startlingly repellent in its sinister promise; all was the
+      vastness of desolation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong knew this portion of the desert for ten miles inward&mdash;he had
+      rescued straying cattle along its southern rim&mdash;but once beyond that
+      limit they would have to trust to chance and their own abilities. There
+      were water holes on this skillet, but nine out of ten were death traps,
+      reeking with mineral poisons, colored and alkaline. The two mentioned by
+      Buck could not be depended on, for they came and went, and more than one
+      luckless wanderer had depended on them to allay his thirst, and had died
+      for his trust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the scouts rode on in silence, noting the half-buried skeletons of
+      cattle which were strewn plentifully on all sides. Nearly three per cent,
+      of the cattle belonging to the Double Arrow yearly found death on this
+      tableland, and the herds of that ranch numbered many thousand heads. It
+      was this which made the Double Arrow the poorest of the ranches, and it
+      was this which allowed insufficient sentries in its line-houses. The
+      skeletons were not all of cattle, for at rare intervals lay the sand-worn
+      frames of men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the morning of the second day the oppression increased with the wind
+      and Red heaved a sigh of restlessness. The sand began to skip across the
+      plain, in grains at first and hardly noticeable. Hopalong turned in his
+      saddle and regarded the desert with apprehension. As he looked he saw that
+      where grains had shifted handfuls were now moving. His mount evinced signs
+      of uneasiness and was hard to control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A gust of wind, stronger than the others, pricked his face and grains of
+      sand rolled down his neck. The leather of his saddle emitted strange
+      noises as if a fairy tattoo was being beaten upon it and he raised his
+      hand and pointed off toward the east. The others looked and saw what had
+      appeared to be a fog rise out of the desert and intervene between them and
+      the sun. As far as eye could reach small whirlwinds formed and broke and
+      one swept down and covered them with stinging sand. The day became
+      darkened and their horses whinnied in terror and the clumps of mesquite
+      twisted and turned to the gusts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each man knew what was to come upon them and they dismounted, hobbled
+      their horses and threw them bodily to the earth, wrapping a blanket around
+      the head of each. A rustling as of paper rubbing together became
+      noticeable and they threw themselves flat upon the earth, their heads
+      wrapped in their coats and buried in the necks of their mounts. For an
+      hour they endured the tortures of hell and then, when the storm had
+      passed, raised their heads and cursed Creation. Their bodies burned as
+      though they had been shot with fine needles and their clothes were meshes
+      where once was tough cloth. Even their shoes were perforated and the
+      throat of each ached with thirst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong fumbled at the canteen resting on his hip and gargled his mouth
+      and throat, washing down the sand which wouldn't come up. His friends did
+      likewise and then looked around. After some time had elapsed the loss of
+      their pack horse was noticed and they swore again. Hopalong took the lead
+      in getting his horse ready for service and then rode around in a circle
+      half a mile in diameter, but returned empty handed. The horse was gone and
+      with it went their main supply of food and drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy scowled at the shadow of a cactus and slowly rode toward the
+      northeast, followed closely by his friends. His hand reached for his
+      depleted canteen, but refrained&mdash;water was to be saved until the last
+      minute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm goin' to build a shack out here an' live in it, I am!&rdquo; exploded
+      Hopalong in withering irony as he dug the sand out of his ears and also
+      from his sixshooter. &ldquo;I just nachurally dotes on this, I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others were too miserable to even grunt and he neatly severed the head
+      of a Gila monster from its scaly body as it opened it venomous jaws in
+      rage at this invasion of its territory. &ldquo;Lovely place!&rdquo; he sneered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You better save them cartridges, Hoppy,&rdquo; interposed Red as his companion
+      fired again, feeling that he must say something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what for?&rdquo; blazed his friend. &ldquo;To plug sand storms? Anybody what we
+      find on this God-forsaken lay-out won't have to be shot&mdash;they will
+      commit suicide an' think it's fun! Tell yu what, if them rustlers hangs
+      out on this sand range they're better men than I reckons they are. Anybody
+      what hides up here shore earns all he steals.&rdquo; Hopalong grumbled from
+      force of habit and because no one else would. His companions understood
+      this and paid no attention to him, which increased his disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are we up here for?&rdquo; He asked, belligerently. &ldquo;Why, because them
+      Double Arrow idiots can't even watch a desert! We have to do their work
+      for them an' they hangs around home an' gets slaughtered! Yes, sir!&rdquo; he
+      shouted, &ldquo;they can't even take care of themselves when they're in
+      line-houses what are forts. Why, that time we cleaned out them an' th'
+      C-80 over at Buckskin they couldn't help runnin' into singin' lead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; drawled Red, whose recollection of that fight was vivid. &ldquo;Yas, an'
+      why?&rdquo; He asked, and then replied to his own question. &ldquo;Because yu sat up
+      in a barn behind them, Buck played his gun on th' side window, Pete an'
+      Skinny lay behind a rock to one side of Buck, me an' Lanky was across th'
+      Street in front of them, an' Billy an' Johnny was in th' arroyo on th'
+      other side. Cowan laid on his stummick on th' roof of his place with a
+      buffalo gun, an' the whole blamed town was agin them. There wasn't five
+      seconds passed that lead wasn't rippin' through th' walls of their shack.
+      Th' Houston House wasn't made for no fort, an' besides, they wasn't like
+      th' gang that's punchin' now. That's why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong became cheerful again, for here was a chance to differ from his
+      friend. The two loved each other the better the more they squabbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yas!&rdquo; responded Hopalong with sarcasm. &ldquo;Yas!&rdquo; he reiterated, drawling it
+      out. &ldquo;Yu was in front of them, an' with what? Why, an' old, white-haired,
+      interfering Winchester, that's what! Me an' my Sharp's&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu and yore Sharp's!&rdquo; exploded Red, whose dislike for that rifle was very
+      pronounced. &ldquo;Yu and yore Sharp's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me an' my Sharp's, as I was palaverin' before bein' interrupted,&rdquo;
+       continued Hopalong, &ldquo;did more damage in five min&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Says yu!&rdquo; snapped Red with heat. &ldquo;All yu an yore Sharp's could do was to
+      cut yore initials in th' back door of their shack, an'&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did more damage in five minutes,&rdquo; continued Hopalong, &ldquo;than all th'
+      blasted Winchesters in th' whole damned town. Why&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' then they was cut blamed poor. Every time that cannon of yourn
+      exploded I shore thought th'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Cowan an' his buffalo did more damage (Cowan was reputed to be a
+      very poor shot) than yu an&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought th' artillery was comin' into th' disturbance. I could see yore
+      red head&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MY red head!&rdquo; exclaimed Hopalong, sizing up the crimson warlock of his
+      companion. &ldquo;MY red head!&rdquo; he repeated, and then turned to Frenchy: &ldquo;Hey,
+      Frenchy, who's got th' reddest hair, me or Red?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy slowly turned in his saddle and gravely scrutinized them. Being
+      strictly impartial and truthful, he gave up the effort of differentiating
+      and smiled. &ldquo;Why, if the tops of yore heads were poked through two holes
+      in a board an' I didn't know which was which, I'd shore make a mistake if
+      I tried to name 'em&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Red had the last word. &ldquo;Anyhow, you didn't have a Sharp's in that
+      fight&mdash;you had a .45-70 Winchester, just like mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon the discussion was directed at the judge, and the forenoon
+      passed very pleasantly, Frenchy even smiling in his misery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. Hopalong's Decision
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Shortly after noon, Hopalong, who had ridden with his head bowed low in
+      meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh. Then he looked at Red and
+      grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look ahere, Red,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;there ain't no rustlers with their
+      headquarters on this God-forsaken sand heap, an' there never was. They
+      have to have water an' lots of it, too, an' th' nearest of any account is
+      th' Pecos, or some of them streams over in th' Panhandle. Th' Panhandle is
+      th' best place. There are lots of streams an' lakes over there an' they're
+      right in a good grass country. Why, an' army could hide over there an'
+      never be found unless it was hunted for blamed good. Then, again, it's
+      close to the railroad. Up north aways is th' south branch of th' Santa Fe
+      Trail an' it's far enough away not to bother anybody in th' middle
+      Panhandle. Then there's Fort Worth purty near, an' other trails. Didn't
+      Buck say he had all th' rest of th' country searched? He meant th' Pecos
+      Valley an th' Davis Mountains country. All th' rustlers would have to do
+      if they were in th' Panhandle would be to cross th' Canadian an th'
+      Cimarron an' hit th' trail for th' railroad. Good fords, good grass an'
+      water all th' way, cattle fat when they are delivered an plenty of room.
+      Th' more I thinks about it th' more I cottons to the Panhandle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it shore does sound good,&rdquo; replied Red, reflectively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do yu mean th' Cunningham Lake region or farther north?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just th' other side of this blasted desert: anywhere where there's
+      water,&rdquo; responded Hopalong, enthusiastically. &ldquo;I've been doin' some hot
+      reckonin' for th' last two hours an' this is th' way it looks to me: they
+      drives th' cows up on this skillet for a ways, then turns east an' hits
+      th' trail for home an' water. They can get around th' ca on near
+      Thatcher's Lake by a swing of th' north. I tell yu that's th' only way
+      out'n this. Who could tell where they turned with th' wind raisin' th'
+      deuce with the trail? Didn't we follow a trail for a ways, an' then what?
+      Why, there wasn't none to follow. We can ride north 'till we walk behind
+      ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I am in favor of headin' for th'
+      Sulphur Spring Creek district. We can spend a couple of weeks, if we has
+      to, an' prospect that whole region without havin' to cut our' water down
+      to a smell an' a taste an live on jerked beef. If we investigates that
+      country we'll find something else than sand storms, poisoned water holes
+      an' blisters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?&rdquo; Inquired Red, doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Along th' Canadian an' th' edges, yas; in th' middle, no,&rdquo; explained
+      Hopalong. &ldquo;They hang close together on account of th' war-whoops, an' they
+      like th' trails purty well because of there allus bein' somebody passin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Buck ought to send some of th' Panhandle boys up there,&rdquo; suggested Red.
+      &ldquo;There's Pie Willis an' th' Jordans&mdash;they knows th' Panhandle like yu
+      knows poker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy had paid no apparent attention to the conversation up to this
+      point, but now he declared himself. &ldquo;Yu heard what Buck said, didn't yu?&rdquo;
+       He asked. &ldquo;We were told to search th' Staked Plains from one end to th'
+      other an' I'm goin' to do it if I can hold out long enough. I ain't goin'
+      to palaver with yu because what yu say can't be denied as far as wisdom is
+      concerned. Yu may have hit it plumb center, but I knows what I was ordered
+      to do, an' yu can't get me to go over there if you shouts all night. When
+      Buck says anything, she goes. He wants to know where th' cards are stacked
+      an' why he can't holler 'Keno,' an' I'm goin' to find out if I can. Yu can
+      go to Patagonia if yu wants to, but yu go alone as far as I am concerned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's better if yu don't go with us,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, taking it
+      for granted that Red would accompany him. &ldquo;Yu can prospect this end of th'
+      game an' we'll be takin' care of th' other. It's two chances now where we
+      only had one afore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu go east an' I'll hunt around as ordered,&rdquo; responded Frenchy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;East nothin',&rdquo; replied Hopalong. &ldquo;Yu don't get me to wallow in hot alkali
+      an' lose time ridin' in ankle-deep sand when I can hit th' south trail,
+      skirt th' White Sand Hills an' be in God's country again. I ain't goin' to
+      wrastle with no ca on this here trip, none whatever. I'm goin' to travel
+      in style, get to Big Spring by ridin' two miles to where I could only make
+      one on this stove. Then I'll head north along Sulpher Spring Creek an'
+      have water an' grass all th' way, barrin' a few stretches. While you are
+      bein' fricasseed I'll be streakin' through cottonwood groves an' ridin' in
+      the creek.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu'll have to go alone, then,&rdquo; said Red, resolutely. &ldquo;Frenchy ain't
+      a-goin' to die of lonesomeness on this desert if I knows what I'm about,
+      an' I reckon I do, some. Me an' him'll follow out what Buck said, hunt
+      around for a while an' then Frenchy can go back to th' ranch to tell Buck
+      what's up an' I'll take th' trail yu are a-scared of an' meet yu at th'
+      east end of Cunningham Lake three days from now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu better come with me,&rdquo; coaxed Hopalong, not liking what his friend had
+      said about being afraid of the trail past the ca on and wishing to have
+      some one with whom to talk on his trip. &ldquo;I'm goin' to have a nice long
+      swim to-morrow night,&rdquo; he added, trying bribery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' I'm goin' to try to keep from hittin' my blisters,&rdquo; responded Red. &ldquo;I
+      don't want to go swimmin' in no creek full of moccasins&mdash;I'd rather
+      sleep with rattlers or copperheads. Every time I sees a cotton-mouth I
+      feels like I had just sit down on one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll flip a coin to see whether yu comes or not,&rdquo; proposed Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If yu wants to gamble so bad I'll flip yu to see who draws our pay next
+      month, but not for what you said,&rdquo; responded Red, choking down the desire
+      to try his luck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong grinned and turned toward the south. &ldquo;If I sees Buck afore yu do,
+      I'll tell him yu an' Frenchy are growin' watermelons up near Last Stand
+      Rock an' are waitin' for rain. Well, so long,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu tell Buck we're obeyin' orders!&rdquo; shouted Red, sorry that he was not
+      going with his bunkie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy and Red rode on in silence, the latter feeling strangely lonesome,
+      for he and the departed man had seldom been separated when journeys like
+      this were to be taken. And when in search of pleasure they were nearly
+      always together. Frenchy, while being very friendly with Hopalong, a
+      friendship that would have placed them side by side against any odds, was
+      not accustomed to his company and did not notice his absence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red looked off toward the south for the tenth time and for the tenth time
+      thought that his friend might return. &ldquo;He's a son-of-a-gun,&rdquo; he
+      soliloquized.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His companion looked up: &ldquo;He shore is, an' he's right about this rustler
+      business, too. But we'll look around for a day or so an' then yu raise
+      dust for th' Lake. I'll go back to th' ranch an' get things primed, so
+      there'll be no time lost when we get th' word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry I went an' said what I did about me takin' th' trail he was
+      a-scared of,&rdquo; confessed Red, after a pause. &ldquo;Why, he ain't a-scared of
+      nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He got back at yu about them watermelons, so what's th' difference?&rdquo;
+       Asked Frenchy. &ldquo;He don't owe yu nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour later they searched the Devil's Rocks, but found no rustlers.
+      Filling their canteens at a tiny spring and allowing their mounts to drink
+      the remainder of the water, they turned toward Hell Arroyo, which they
+      reached at nightfall. Here, also, their search availed them nothing and
+      they paused in indecision. Then Frenchy turned toward his companion and
+      advised him to ride toward the Lake in the night when it was comparatively
+      cool.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red considered and then decided that the advice was good. He rolled a
+      cigarette, wheeled and faced the east and spurred forward: &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; he
+      called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long,&rdquo; replied Frenchy, who turned toward the south and departed for
+      the ranch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The foreman of the Bar-20 was cleaning his rifle when he heard the
+      hoof-beats of a galloping horse and he ran around the corner of the house
+      to meet the newcomer, whom he thought to be a courier from the Double
+      Arrow. Frenchy dismounted and explained why he returned alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck listened to the report and then, noting the fire which gleamed in his
+      friend's eyes, nodded his approval to the course. &ldquo;I reckon it's Trendley,
+      Frenchy&mdash;I've heard a few things since yu left. An' yu can bet that
+      if Hopalong an' Red have gone for him he'll be found. I expect action any
+      time now, so we'll light th' signal fire.&rdquo; Then he hesitated; &ldquo;Yu light it&mdash;yu've
+      been waiting a long time for this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other balls at
+      different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to feed the numbers
+      of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next twenty-four hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three Triangle,
+      followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O. The outfits of the
+      Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all, came next and had
+      scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the Double Arrow, fretting
+      at the delay, rode up. With the sixteen from the Bar-20 the force numbered
+      seventy-five resolute and pugnacious cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out
+      the indignities suffered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. A Problem Solved
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus
+      cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He camped
+      that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his journey. It
+      was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an hour later he
+      passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow. Half an hour later
+      he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad. Thinking that an investigation
+      would not be out of place, he rode after the rider and overtook him, when
+      that person paused and retraced his course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Hopalong!&rdquo; shouted the puncher and he came near enough to
+      recognize his pursuer. &ldquo;Thought yu was farmin' up on th' Staked Plain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, Pie,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, recognizing Pie Willis. &ldquo;What was yu
+      chasin' so hard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Coyote&mdash;damn 'em, but can't they go some? They're gettin' so thick
+      we'll shore have to try strichnine an' thin 'em out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought anybody that had been raised in th' Panhandle would know
+      better'n to chase greased lightnin',&rdquo; rebuked Hopalong. &ldquo;Yu has got about
+      as much show catchin' one of them as a tenderfoot has of bustin' an
+      outlawed cayuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore; I know it,&rdquo; responded Pie, grinning. &ldquo;But it's fun seem' them hunt
+      th' horizon. What are yu doin' down here an' where are yore pardners?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon Hopalong enlightened his inquisitive companion as to what had
+      occurred and as to his reasons for riding south.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pie immediately became enthusiastic and announced his intention of
+      accompanying Hopalong on his quest, which intention struck that gentleman
+      as highly proper and wise. Then Pie hastily turned and played at chasing
+      coyotes in the direction of the line-house, where he announced that his
+      absence would be accounted for by the fact that he and Hopalong were going
+      on a journey of investigation into the Panhandle. Billy Jordan who shared
+      with Pie the accommodations of the house, objected and showed, very
+      clearly, why he was eminently better qualified to take up the proposed
+      labors than his companions. The suggestions were fast getting tangled up
+      with the remarks, when Pie, grabbing a chunk of jerked beef, leaped into
+      his saddle and absolutely refused to heed the calls of his former
+      companion and return. He rode to where Hopalong was awaiting him as if he
+      was afraid he wasn't going to live long enough to get there. Confiding to
+      his companion that Billy was a &ldquo;locoed sage hen,&rdquo; he led the way along the
+      base of the White Sand Hills and asked many questions. Then they turned
+      toward the east and galloped hard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had been Hopalong's intention to carry out what he had told Red and to
+      go to Big Spring first and thence north along Sulphur Spring Creek, but to
+      this his guide strongly dissented. There was a short cut, or several of
+      them for that matter, was Pie's contention, and any one of them would save
+      a day's hard riding. Hopalong made no objection to allowing his companion
+      to lead the way over any trail he saw fit, for he knew that Pie had been
+      born and brought up in the Panhandle, the Cunningham Lake district having
+      been his back yard, as it were. So they followed the short cut having the
+      most water and grass, and pounded out a lively tattoo as they raced over
+      the stretches of sand which seemed to slide beneath them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do yu know about this here business?&rdquo; Inquired Pie, as they raced
+      past a chaparral and onto the edge of a grassy plain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin' more'n yu do, only Buck said he thought Slippery Trendley is at
+      th' bottom of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; ejaculated Pie in surprise. &ldquo;Him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore on. An' between yu an' me an' th' Devil, I wouldn't be a heap
+      surprised if Deacon Rankin is with him, neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pie whistled: &ldquo;Are him an' th' Deacon pals?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; replied Hopalong, buttoning up his vest and rolling a cigarette.
+      &ldquo;Didn't they allus hang out together! One watched that th' other didn't
+      get plugged from behind. It was a sort of
+      yu-scratch-my-back-an'-I'll-scratch-yourn arrangement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if they still hangs out together, I know where to hunt for our
+      cows,&rdquo; responded Pie. &ldquo;Th' Deacon used to range along th' headwaters of
+      th' Colorado&mdash;it ain't far from Cunningham Lake. Thunderation!&rdquo; he
+      shouted, &ldquo;I knows th' very ground they're on&mdash;I can take yu to th'
+      very shack!&rdquo; Then to himself he muttered: &ldquo;An' that doodlebug Billy Jordan
+      thinkin' he knowed more about th' Panhandle than me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong showed his elation in an appropriate manner and his companion
+      drank deeply from the proffered flask; Thereupon they treated their mounts
+      to liberal doses of strap-oil and covered the ground with great speed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They camped early, for Hopalong was almost worn out from the exertions of
+      the past few days and the loss of sleep he had sustained. Pie, too excited
+      to sleep and having had unbroken rest for a long period, volunteered to
+      keep guard, and his companion eagerly consented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early the next morning they broke camp and the evening of the same day
+      found them fording Sulphur Spring Creek, and their quarry lay only an hour
+      beyond, according to Pie. Then they forded one of the streams which form
+      the headwaters of the Colorado, and two hours later they dismounted in a
+      cottonwood grove. Picketing their horses, they carefully made their way
+      through the timber, which was heavily grown with brush, and, after half an
+      hour's maneuvering, came within sight of the further edge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dropping down on all fours, they crawled to the last line of brush and
+      looked out over an extensive bottoms. At their feet lay a small river, and
+      in a clearing on the farther side was a rough camp, consisting of about a
+      dozen leanto shacks and log cabins in the main collection, and a few
+      scattered cabins along the edge. A huge fire was blazing before the main
+      collection of huts, and to the rear of these was an indistinct black mass,
+      which they knew to be the corral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a rude table before the fire more than a score of men were eating
+      supper and others could be heard moving about and talking at different
+      points in the background. While the two scouts were learning the lay of
+      the land, they saw Mr. Trendley and Deacon Rankin walk out of the cabin
+      most distant from the fire, and the latter limped. Then they saw two men
+      lying on rude cots, and they wore bandages. Evidently Johnny Redmond had
+      scored in his fight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The odor of burning cowhide came from the corral, accompanied by the
+      squeals of cattle, and informed them that brands were being blotted out.
+      Hopalong longed to charge down and do some blotting out of another kind,
+      but a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder and he silently wormed his way
+      after Pie as that person led the way back to the horses. Mounting, they
+      picked their way out of the grove and rode over the plain at a walk. When
+      far enough away to insure that the noise made by their horses would not
+      reach the ears of those in the camp they cantered toward the ford they had
+      taken on the way up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After emerging from the waters of the last forded stream, Pie raised his
+      hand and pointed off toward the northwest, telling his companion to take
+      that course to reach Cunningham Lake. He himself would ride south, taking,
+      for the saving of time, a yet shorter trail to the Double Arrow, from
+      where he would ride to Buck. He and the others would meet Hopalong and Red
+      at the split rock they had noticed on their way up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong shook hands with his guide and watched him disappear into the
+      night. He imagined he could still catch whiffs of burning cowhide and
+      again the picture of the camp came to his mind. Glancing again at the
+      point where Pie had disappeared, he stuffed his sombrero under a strap on
+      his saddle and slowly rode toward the lake. A coyote slunk past him on a
+      time-destroying lope and an owl hooted at the foolishness of men. He
+      camped at the base of a cottonwood and at daylight took up his journey
+      after a scanty breakfast from his saddle-bags.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shortly before noon he came in sight of the lake and looked for his
+      friend. He had just ridden around a clump of cotton-woods when he was hit
+      on the back with something large and soft. Turning in his saddle, with his
+      Colts ready, he saw Red sitting on a stump, a huge grin extending over his
+      features. He replaced the weapon, said something about fools and
+      dismounted, kicking aside the bundle of grass his friend had thrown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore easy,&rdquo; remarked Red, tossing aside his cold cigarette.
+      &ldquo;Suppose I was Trendley, where would yu be now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diggin' a hole to put yu in,&rdquo; pleasantly replied Hopalong. &ldquo;If I didn't
+      know he wasn't around this part of the country I wouldn't a rode as I
+      did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man on the stump laughed and rolled a fresh cigarette. Lighting it, he
+      inquired where Mr. Trendley was, intimating by his words that the rustler
+      had not been found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About thirty miles to th' southeast,&rdquo; responded the other. &ldquo;He's figurin'
+      up how much dust he'll have when he gets our cows on th' market. Deacon
+      Rankin is with him, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' deuce!&rdquo; exclaimed Red, in profound astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore right,&rdquo; replied his companion. Then he explained all the
+      arrangements and told of the camp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red was for riding to the rendezvous at once, but his friend thought
+      otherwise and proposed a swim, which met with approval. After enjoying
+      themselves in the lake they dressed and rode along the trail Hopalong had
+      made in coming for his companion, it being the intention of the former to
+      learn more thoroughly the lay of the land immediately surrounding the
+      camp. Red was pleased with this, and while they rode he narrated all that
+      had taken place since the separation on the Plain, adding that he had
+      found the trail left by the rustlers after they had quitted the desert and
+      that he had followed it for the last two hours of his journey. It was well
+      beaten and an eighth of a mile wide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At dark they came within sight of the grove and picketed their horses at
+      the place used by Pie and Hopalong. Then they moved forward and the same
+      sight greeted their eyes that had been seen the night before. Keeping well
+      within the edge of the grove and looking carefully for sentries, they went
+      entirely around the camp and picked out several places which would be of
+      strategic value later on. They noticed that the cabin used by Slippery
+      Trendley was a hundred paces from the main collection of huts and that the
+      woods came to within a tenth part of that distance of its door. It was
+      heavily built, had no windows and faced the wrong direction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moving on, they discovered the storehouse of the enemy, another tempting
+      place. It was just possible, if a siege became necessary, for several of
+      the attacking force to slip up to it and either destroy it by fire or take
+      it and hold it against all comers. This suggested a look at the enemy's
+      water supply, which was the river. A hundred paces separated it from the
+      nearest cabin and any rustler who could cross that zone under the fire of
+      the besiegers would be welcome to his drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was very evident that the rustlers had no thought of defense, thinking,
+      perhaps, that they were immune from attack with such a well covered trail
+      between them and their foes. Hopalong mentally accused them of harboring
+      suicidal inclinations and returned with his companion to the horses. They
+      mounted and sat quietly for a while, and then rode slowly away and at dawn
+      reached the split rock, where they awaited the arrival of their friends,
+      one sleeping while the other kept guard. Then they drew a rough map of the
+      camp, using the sand for paper, and laid out the plan of attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the evening of the next day came on they saw Pie, followed by many
+      punchers, ride over a rise a mile to the south and they rode out to meet
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the force arrived at the camp of the two scouts they were shown the
+      plan prepared for them. Buck made a few changes in the disposition of the
+      men and then each member was shown where he was to go and was told why.
+      Weapons were put in a high state of efficiency, canteens were refilled and
+      haversacks were somewhat depleted. Then the newcomers turned in and slept
+      while Hopalong and Red kept guard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. The Call
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At three o'clock the next morning a long line of men slowly filed into the
+      cottonwood grove, being silently swallowed up by the dark. Dismounting,
+      they left their horses in the care of three of their number and
+      disappeared into the brush. Ten minutes later forty of the force were
+      distributed along the edge of the grove fringing on the bank of the river
+      and twenty more minutes gave ample time for a detachment of twenty to
+      cross the stream and find concealment in the edge of the woods which ran
+      from the river to where the corral made an effective barrier on the south.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eight crept down on the western side of the camp and worked their way
+      close to Mr. Trendley's cabin door, and the seven who followed this
+      detachment continued and took up their positions at the rear of the
+      corral, where, it was hoped, some of the rustlers would endeavor to escape
+      into the woods by working their way through the cattle in the corral and
+      then scaling the stockade wall. These seven were from the Three Triangle
+      and the Double Arrow, and they were positive that any such attempt would
+      not be a success from the view-point of the rustlers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two of those who awaited the pleasure of Mr. Trendley crept forward, and a
+      rope swished through the air and settled over the stump which lay most
+      convenient on the other side of the cabin door. Then the slack moved
+      toward the woods, raised from the ground as it grew taut and, with the
+      stump for its axis, swung toward the door, where it rubbed gently against
+      the rough logs. It was made of braided horsehair, was half an inch in
+      diameter and was stretched eight inches above the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As it touched the door, Lanky Smith, Hopalong and Red stepped out of the
+      shelter of the woods and took up their positions behind the cabin, Lanky
+      behind the northeast corner where he would be permitted to swing his right
+      arm. In his gloved right hand he held the carefully arranged coils of a
+      fifty-foot lariat, and should the chief of the rustlers escape tripping he
+      would have to avoid the cast of the best roper in the southwest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two others took the northwest corner and one of them leaned slightly
+      forward and gently twitched the tripping-rope. The man at the other end
+      felt the signal and whispered to a companion, who quietly disappeared in
+      the direction of the river and shortly afterward the mournful cry of a
+      whip-poor-will dirged out on the early morning air. It had hardly died
+      away when the quiet was broken by one terrific crash of rifles, and the
+      two camp guards asleep at the fire awoke in another world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Trendley, sleeping unusually well for the unjust, leaped from his bed
+      to the middle of the floor and alighted on his feet and wide awake.
+      Fearing that a plot was being consummated to deprive him of his
+      leadership, he grasped the Winchester which leaned at the head of his bed
+      and, tearing open the door, crashed headlong to the earth. As he touched
+      the ground, two shadows sped out from the shelter of the cabin wall and
+      pounced upon him. Men who can rope, throw and tie a wild steer in thirty
+      seconds flat do not waste time in trussing operations, and before a minute
+      had elapsed he was being carried into the woods, bound and helpless. Lanky
+      sighed, threw the rope over one shoulder and departed after his friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Mr. Trendley came to his senses he found himself bound to a tree in
+      the grove near the horses. A man sat on a stump not far from him, three
+      others were seated around a small fire some distance to the north, and
+      four others, one of whom carried a rope, made their way into the brush. He
+      strained at his bonds, decided that the effort was useless and watched the
+      man on the stump, who struck a match and lit a pipe. The prisoner watched
+      the light flicker up and go out and there was left in his mind a picture
+      that he could never forget. The face which had been so cruelly, so
+      grotesquely revealed was that of Frenchy McAllister, and across his knees
+      lay a heavy caliber Winchester. A curse escaped from the lips of the
+      outlaw; the man on the stump spat at a firefly and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the south came the crack of rifles, incessant and sharp. The reports
+      rolled from one end of the clearing to the other and seemed to sweep in
+      waves from the center of the line to the ends. Faintly in the infrequent
+      lulls in the firing came an occasional report from the rear of the corral,
+      where some desperate rustler paid for his venture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck went along the line and spoke to the riflemen, and after some time
+      had passed and the light had become stronger, he collected the men into
+      groups of five and six. Taking one group and watching it closely, it could
+      be seen that there was a world of meaning in this maneuver. One man
+      started firing at a particular window in an opposite hut and then laid
+      aside his empty gun and waited. When the muzzle of his enemy's gun came
+      into sight and lowered until it had nearly gained its sight level, the
+      rifles of the remainder of the group crashed out in a volley and usually
+      one of the bullets, at least, found its intended billet. This volley
+      firing became universal among the besiegers and the effect was marked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two men sprinted from the edge of the woods near Mr. Trendley's cabin and
+      gained the shelter of the storehouse, which soon broke out in flames. The
+      burning brands fell over the main collection of huts, where there was much
+      confusion and swearing. The early hour at which the attack had been
+      delivered at first led the besieged to believe that it was an Indian
+      affair, but this impression was soon corrected by the volley firing, which
+      turned hope into despair. It was no great matter to fight Indians, that
+      they had done many times and found more or less enjoyment in it; but there
+      was a vast difference between brave and puncher, and the chances of their
+      salvation became very small. They surmised that it was the work of the
+      cow-men on whom they had preyed and that vengeful punchers lay hidden
+      behind that death-fringe of green willow and hazel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red, assisted by his inseparable companion, Hopalong, laboriously climbed
+      up among the branches of a black walnut and hooked one leg over a
+      convenient limb. Then he lowered his rope and drew up the Winchester which
+      his accommodating friend fastened to it. Settling himself in a comfortable
+      position and sheltering his body somewhat by the tree, he shaded his eyes
+      by a hand and peered into the windows of the distant cabins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is she, Red?&rdquo; Anxiously inquired the man on the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully: want to come up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nope. I'm goin' to catch yu when yu lets go,&rdquo; replied Hopalong with a
+      grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which same I ain't goin' to,&rdquo; responded the man in the tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He swung his rifle out over a forked limb and let it settle in the crotch.
+      Then he slew his head around until he gained the bead he wished. Five
+      minutes passed before he caught sight of his man and then he fired.
+      Jerking out the empty shell he smiled and called out to his friend: &ldquo;One.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong grinned and went off to tell Buck to put all the men in trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Night came on and still the firing continued. Then an explosion shook the
+      woods. The storehouse had blown up and a sky full of burning timber fell
+      on the cabins and soon three were half consumed, their occupants dropping
+      as they gained the open air. One hundred paces makes fine pot-shooting, as
+      Deacon Rankin discovered when evacuation was the choice necessary to avoid
+      cremation. He never moved after he touched the ground and Red called out:
+      &ldquo;Two,&rdquo; not knowing that his companion had departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning of the next day found a wearied and hopeless garrison, and
+      shortly before noon a soiled white shirt was flung from a window in the
+      nearest cabin. Buck ran along the line and ordered the firing to cease and
+      caused to be raised an answering flag of truce. A full minute passed and
+      then the door slowly opened and a leg protruded, more slowly followed by
+      the rest of the man, and Cheyenne Charley strode out to the bank of the
+      river and sat down. His example was followed by several others and then an
+      unexpected event occurred. Those in the cabins who preferred to die
+      fighting, angered at this desertion, opened fire on their former comrades,
+      who barely escaped by rolling down the slightly inclined bank into the
+      river. Red fired again and laughed to himself. Then the fugitives swam
+      down the river and landed under the guns of the last squad. They were
+      taken to the rear and, after being bound, were placed under a guard. There
+      were seven in the party and they looked worn out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the huts were burning the fiercest the uproar in the corral arose to
+      such a pitch as to drown all other sounds. There were left within its
+      walls a few hundred cattle whose brands had not yet been blotted out, and
+      these, maddened to frenzy by the shooting and the flames, tore from one
+      end of the enclosure to the other, crashing against the alternate walls
+      with a noise which could be heard far out on the plain. Scores were
+      trampled to death on each charge and finally the uproar subsided in sheer
+      want of cattle left with energy enough to continue. When the corral was
+      investigated the next day there were found the bodies of four rustlers,
+      but recognition was impossible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several of the defenders were housed in cabins having windows in the rear
+      walls, which the occupants considered fortunate. This opinion was revised,
+      however, after several had endeavored to escape by these openings. The
+      first thing that occurred when a man put his head out was the hum of a
+      bullet, and in two cases the experimenters lost all need of escape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The volley firing had the desired effect, and at dusk there remained only
+      one cabin from which came opposition. Such a fire was concentrated on it
+      that before an hour had passed the door fell in and the firing ceased.
+      There was a rush from the side, and the Barred Horseshoe men who swarmed
+      through the cabins emerged without firing a shot. The organization that
+      had stirred up the Pecos Valley ranches had ceased to exist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. The Showdown
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A fire burned briskly in front of Mr. Trendley's cabin that night and
+      several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways. Two men leaned
+      against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and the range.
+      One of them, Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, sang in his sweet tenor, and
+      other men gradually strolled up and seated themselves on the ground, where
+      the fitful gleam of responsive pipes and cigarettes showed like fireflies.
+      The songs followed one after another, first a lover's plea in soft Spanish
+      and then a rollicking tale of the cow-towns and men. Supper had long since
+      been enjoyed and all felt that life was, indeed, well worth living.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A shadow loomed against the cabin wall and a procession slowly made its
+      way toward the open door. The leader, Hopalong, disappeared within and was
+      followed by Mr. Trendley, bound and hobbled and tied to Red, the rear
+      being brought up by Frenchy, whose rifle lolled easily in the crotch of
+      his elbow. The singing went on uninterrupted and the hum of voices between
+      the selections remained unchanged. Buck left the crowd around the fire and
+      went into the cabin, where his voice was heard assenting to something.
+      Hopalong emerged and took a seat at the fire, sending two punchers to take
+      his place. He was joined by Frenchy and Red, the former very quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the center of a distant group were seven men who were not armed. Their
+      belts, half full of cartridges, supported empty holsters. They sat and
+      talked to the men around them, swapping notes and experiences, and in
+      several instances found former friends and acquaintances. These men were
+      not bound and were apparently members of Buck's force. Then one of them
+      broke down, but quickly regained his nerve and proposed a game of cards. A
+      fire was started and several games were immediately in progress. These
+      seven men were to die at daybreak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the night grew older man after man rolled himself in his blanket and
+      lay down where he sat, sinking off to sleep with a swiftness that bespoke
+      tired muscles and weariness. All through the night, however, there were
+      twelve men on guard, of whom three were in the cabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At daybreak a shot from one of the guards awakened every man within
+      hearing, and soon they romped and scampered down to the river's edge to
+      indulge in the luxury of a morning plunge. After an hour's horseplay they
+      trooped back to the cabin and soon had breakfast out of the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Waffles, foreman of the O-Bar-O, and You-bet Somes strolled over to the
+      seven unfortunates who had just completed a choking breakfast and nodded a
+      hearty &ldquo;Good morning.&rdquo; Then others came up and finally all moved off
+      toward the river. Crossing it, they disappeared into the grove and all
+      sounds of their advance grew into silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Trendley, escorted outside for the air, saw the procession as it
+      became lost to sight in the brush. He sneered and asked for a smoke, which
+      was granted. Then his guards were changed and the men began to straggle
+      back from the grove.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Trendley, with his back to the cabin, scowled defiantly at the crowd
+      that hemmed him in. The coolest, most damnable murderer in the West was
+      not now going to beg for mercy. When he had taken up crime as a means of
+      livelihood he had decided that if the price to be paid for his course was
+      death, he would pay like a man. He glanced at the cottonwood grove,
+      wherein were many ghastly secrets, and smiled. His hairless eyebrows
+      looked like livid scars and his lips quivered in scorn and anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he sneered at Buck there was a movement in the crowd before him and a
+      pathway opened for Frenchy, who stepped forward slowly and deliberately,
+      as if on his way to some bar for a drink. There was something different
+      about the man who had searched the Staked Plain with Hopalong and Red: he
+      was not the same puncher who had arrived from Montana three weeks before.
+      There was lacking a certain air of carelessness and he chilled his
+      friends, who looked upon him as if they had never really known him. He
+      walked up to Mr. Trendley and gazed deeply into the evil eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Twenty years before, Frenchy McAllister had changed his identity from a
+      happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care cow-puncher and became a machine. The grief
+      that had torn his soul was not of the kind which seeks its outlet in tears
+      and wailing; it had turned and struck inward, and now his deliberate
+      ferocity was icy and devilish. Only a glint in his eyes told of
+      exultation, and his words were sharp and incisive; one could well imagine
+      one heard the click of his teeth as they bit off the consonants: every
+      letter was clear-cut, every syllable startling in its clearness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty years and two months ago to-day,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;you arrived at the
+      ranchhouse of the Double Y, up near the Montana-Wyoming line. Everything
+      was quiet, except, perhaps, a woman's voice, singing. You entered, and
+      before you left you pinned a note to that woman's dress. I found it, and
+      it is due.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The air of carelessness disappeared from the members of the crowd and the
+      silence became oppressive. Most of those present knew parts of Frenchy's
+      story, and all were in hearty accord with anything he might do. He reached
+      within his vest and brought forth a deerskin bag. Opening it, he drew out
+      a package of oiled silk and from that he took a paper. Carefully replacing
+      the silk and the bag, he slowly unfolded the sheet in his hand and handed
+      it to Buck, whose face hardened. Two decades had passed since the foreman
+      of the Bar-20 had seen that precious sheet, but the scene of its finding
+      would never fade from his memory. He stood as if carved from stone, with a
+      look on his face that made the crowd shift uneasily and glance at
+      Trendley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy turned to the rustler and regarded him evilly. &ldquo;You are the
+      hellish brute that wrote that note,&rdquo; pointing to the paper in the hand of
+      his friend. Then, turning again, he spoke: &ldquo;Buck, read that paper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The foreman cleared his throat and read distinctly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;McAllister: Yore wife is too blame good to live.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                                         TRENDLEY.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      There was a shuffling sound, but Buck and Frenchy, silently backed up by
+      Hopalong and Red, intervened, and the crowd fell back, where it surged in
+      indecision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said Frenchy, &ldquo;I want you to vote on whether any man here has
+      more right to do with Slippery Trendley as he sees fit than myself. Any
+      one who thinks so, or that he should be treated like the others, step
+      forward. Majority rules.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no advance and he spoke again: &ldquo;Is there any one here who
+      objects to this man dying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong and Red awkwardly bumped their knuckles against their guns and
+      there was no response.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prisoner was bound with cowhide to the wall of the cabin and four men
+      sat near and facing him. The noonday meal was eaten in silence, and the
+      punchers rode off to see about rounding up the cattle that grazed over the
+      plain as far as eye could see. Supper-time came and passed, and busy men
+      rode away in all directions. Others came and relieved the guards, and at
+      midnight another squad took up the vigil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Day broke and the thunder of hoofs as the punchers rounded up the cattle
+      became very noticeable. One herd swept past toward the south, guarded and
+      guided by fifteen men. Two hours later and another followed, taking a
+      slightly different trail so as to avoid the close-cropped grass left by
+      the first. At irregular intervals during the day other herds swept by,
+      until six had passed and denuded the plain of cattle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck, perspiring and dusty, accompanied by Hopalong and Red, rode up to
+      where the guards smoked and joked. Frenchy came out of the cabin and
+      smiled at his friends. Swinging in his left hand was a newly filled Colt's
+      .45, which was recognized by his friends as the one found in the cabin and
+      it bore a rough &ldquo;T&rdquo; gouged in the butt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck looked around and cleared his throat: &ldquo;We've got th' cows on th' home
+      trail, Frenchy,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yas?&rdquo; Inquired Frenchy. &ldquo;Are there many?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yas,&rdquo; replied Buck, waving his hand at the guards, ordering them to
+      follow their friends. &ldquo;It's a good deal for us: we've done right smart
+      this hand. An' it's a good thing we've got so many punchers: we got a lot
+      of cattle to drive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About five times th' size of th' herd that blamed near made angels out'en
+      me an' yu,&rdquo; responded Frenchy with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope almighty hard that we don't have no stampedes on this here drive.
+      If th' last herds go wild they'll pick up th' others, an' then there'll be
+      th' devil to pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy smiled again and shot a glance at where Mr. Trendley was bound to
+      the cabin wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck looked steadily southward for some time and then flecked a foam-sud
+      from the flank of his horse. &ldquo;We are goin' south along th' Creek until we
+      gets to Big Spring, where we'll turn right smart to th' west. We won't be
+      able to average more'n twelve miles a day, 'though I'm goin' to drive them
+      hard. How's yore grub?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grub to burn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got yore rope?&rdquo; Asked the foreman of the Bar-20, speaking as if the
+      question had no especial meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy smiled: &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong absent-mindedly jabbed his spurs into his mount with the result
+      that when the storm had subsided the spell was broken and he said &ldquo;So
+      long,&rdquo; and rode south, followed by Buck and Red. As they swept out of
+      sight behind a grove Red turned in his saddle and waved his hat. Buck
+      discussed with assiduity the prospects of a rainfall and was very cheerful
+      about the recovery of the stolen cattle. Red could see a tall,
+      broad-shouldered man standing with his feet spread far apart, swinging a
+      Colt's .45, and Hopalong swore at everything under the sun. Dust arose in
+      streaming clouds far to the south and they spurred forward to overtake the
+      outfits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck Peters, riding over the starlit plain, in his desire to reach the
+      first herd, which slept somewhere to the west of him under the care of
+      Waffles, thought of the events of the past few weeks and gradually became
+      lost in the memories of twenty years before, which crowded up before his
+      mind like the notes of a half-forgotten song. His nature, tempered by two
+      decades of a harsh existence, softened as he lived again the years that
+      had passed and as he thought of the things which had been. He was so
+      completely lost in his reverie that he failed to hear the muffled
+      hoofbeats of a horse that steadily gained upon him, and when Frenchy
+      McAllister placed a friendly hand on his shoulder he started as if from a
+      deep sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two looked at each other and their hands met. The question which
+      sprang into Buck's eyes found a silent answer in those of his friend. They
+      rode on side by side through the clear night and together drifted back to
+      the days of the Double Y.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After an hour had passed, the foreman of the Bar-20 turned to his
+      companion and then hesitated:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did, did&mdash;was he a cur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frenchy looked off toward the south and, after an interval, replied:
+      &ldquo;Yas.&rdquo; Then, as an after thought, he added, &ldquo;Yu see, he never reckoned it
+      would be that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck nodded, although he did not fully understand, and the subject was
+      forever closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. Mr. Cassidy Meets a Woman
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The work of separating the cattle into herds of the different brands was
+      not a big contract, and with so many men it took but a comparatively short
+      time, and in two days all signs of the rustlers had faded. It was then
+      that good news went the rounds and the men looked forward to a week of
+      pleasure, which was all the sharper accentuated by the grim mercilessness
+      of the expedition into the Panhandle. Here was a chance for unlimited
+      hilarity and a whole week in which to give strict attention to celebrating
+      the recent victory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So one day Mr. Hopalong Cassidy rode rapidly over the plain, thinking
+      about the joys and excitement promised by the carnival to be held at Muddy
+      Wells. With that rivalry so common to Western towns the inhabitants
+      maintained that the carnival was to break all records, this because it was
+      to be held in their town. Perry's Bend and Buckskin had each promoted a
+      similar affair, and if this year's festivities were to be an improvement
+      on those which had gone before, they would most certainly be worth riding
+      miles to see. Perry's Bend had been unfortunate m being the first to hold
+      a carnival, inasmuch as it only set a mark to be improved upon, and
+      Buckskin had taken advantage of this and had added a brass band, and now
+      in turn was to be eclipsed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The events slated were numerous and varied, the most important being those
+      which dealt directly with the everyday occupations of the inhabitants of
+      that section of the country. Broncho busting, steer-roping and tying,
+      rifle and revolver shooting, trick riding and fancy roping made up the
+      main features of the programme and were to be set off by horse and foot
+      racing and other county fair necessities. Altogether, the proud citizens
+      of the town looked forward with keen anticipation to the coming
+      excitements, and were prone to swagger a bit and to rub their hands in
+      condescending egoism, while the crowded gambling halls and saloons, and
+      the three-card-monte men on the street corners enriched themselves at the
+      cost of venturesome know-it-ails.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong was firmly convinced that his day of hard riding was well worth
+      while, for the Bar-20 was to be represented in strength. Probably a
+      clearer insight into his idea of a carnival can be gained by his
+      definition, grouchily expressed to Red Connors on the day following the
+      last affair: &ldquo;Raise cain, go broke, wake up an' begin punching cows all
+      over again.&rdquo; But that was the day after and the day after is always filled
+      with remorse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong and Red, having twice in succession won the revolver and rifle
+      competitions, respectively, hoped to make it 'Three straight.' Lanky
+      Smith, the Bar-20 rope expert, had taken first prize in the only contest
+      he had entered. Skinny Thompson had lost and drawn with Lefty Allen, of
+      the O-Bar-O, in the broncho-busting event, but as Skinny had improved
+      greatly in the interval, his friends confidently expected him to &ldquo;yank
+      first place&rdquo; for the honor of his ranch. These expectations were backed
+      with all the available Bar-20 money, and, if they were not realized,
+      something in the nature of a calamity would swoop down upon and wrap that
+      ranch in gloom. Since the O-Bar-O was aggressively optimistic the betting
+      was at even money, hats and guns, and the losers would begin life anew so
+      far as earthly possessions were concerned. No other competitors were
+      considered in this event, as Skinny and Lefty had so far outclassed all
+      others that the honor was believed to lie between these two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong, blissfully figuring out the chances of the different
+      contestants, galloped around a clump of mesquite only fifteen miles from
+      Muddy Wells and stiffened in his saddle, for twenty rods ahead of him on
+      the trail was a woman. As she heard him approach she turned and waited for
+      him to overtake her, and when she smiled he raised his sombrero and bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you please tell me where I am?&rdquo; She asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu are fifteen miles southeast of Muddy Wells,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But which is southeast?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right behind yu,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Th' town lies right ahead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going there?&rdquo; She asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will not care if I ride with you?&rdquo; She asked. &ldquo;I am a trifle
+      frightened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I'd be some pleased if yu do, 'though there ain't nothing out here
+      to be afraid of now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had no intention of getting lost,&rdquo; she assured him, &ldquo;but I dismounted
+      to pick flowers and cactus leaves and after a while I had no conception of
+      where I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is it yu are out here?&rdquo; He asked. &ldquo;Yu shouldn't get so far from
+      town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, papa is an invalid and doesn't like to leave his room, and the town
+      is so dull, although the carnival is waking it up somewhat. Having nothing
+      to do I procured a horse and determined to explore the country. Why, this
+      is like Stanley and Livingstone, isn't it? You rescued the explorer!&rdquo; And
+      she laughed heartily. He wondered who in thunder Stanley and Livingstone
+      were, but said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like the West, it is so big and free,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;But it is very
+      monotonous at times, especially when compared with New York. Papa swears
+      dreadfully at the hotel and declares that the food will drive him insane,
+      but I notice that he eats much more heartily than he did when in the city.
+      And the service!&mdash;it is awful. But when one leaves the town behind it
+      is splendid, and I can appreciate it because I had such a hard season in
+      the city last winter&mdash;so many balls, parties and theaters that I
+      simply wore myself out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never hankered much for them things,&rdquo; Hopalong replied. &ldquo;An' I don't
+      like th' towns much, either. Once or twice a year I gets as far as Kansas
+      City, but I soon tires of it an' hits th' back trail. Yu see, I don't like
+      a fence country&mdash;I wants lots of room an' air.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She regarded him intently: &ldquo;I know that you will think me very forward.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled and slowly replied: &ldquo;I think yu are all O. K.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There do not appear to be many women in this country,&rdquo; she suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, there ain't many,&rdquo; he replied, thinking of the kind to be found in
+      all of the cow-towns. &ldquo;They don't seem to hanker for this kind of life&mdash;they
+      wants parties an' lots of dancin' an' them kind of things. I reckon there
+      ain't a whole lot to tempt em to come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You evidently regard women as being very frivolous,&rdquo; she replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm speakin' from there not being any out here,&rdquo; he responded,
+      &ldquo;although I don't know much about them, to tell th' truth. Them what are
+      out here can't be counted.&rdquo; Then he flushed and looked away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She ignored the remark and placed her hand to her hair:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodness! My hair must look terrible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and looked: &ldquo;Yore hair is pretty&mdash;I allus did like brown
+      hair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed and put back the straggling locks: &ldquo;It is terrible! Just look
+      at it! Isn't it awful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no: I reckons not,&rdquo; he replied critically. &ldquo;It looks sort of free
+      an' easy thataway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's no matter, it cannot be helped,&rdquo; she laughed. &ldquo;Let's race!&rdquo;
+       she cried and was off like a shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He humored her until he saw that her mount was getting unmanageable, when
+      he quietly overtook her and closed her pony's nostrils with his hand, the
+      operation having a most gratifying effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe hadn't oughter let yu had this cayuse,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how do you know of whom I procured it?&rdquo; She asked. &ldquo;By th' brand:
+      it's a O-Bar-O, canceled, with J. H. over it. He buys all of his cayuses
+      from th' O-Bar-O.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She found out his name, and, after an interval of silence, she turned to
+      him with eyes full of inquiry: &ldquo;What is that thorny shrub just ahead?&rdquo; She
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's mesquite,&rdquo; he replied eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me all about it,&rdquo; she commanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, there ain't much to tell,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;only it's a valuable tree
+      out here. Th' Apaches use it a whole lot of ways. They get honey from th'
+      blossoms an' glue an' gum, an' they use th' bark for tannin' hide. Th'
+      dried pods an' leaves are used to feed their cattle, an' th' wood makes
+      corrals to keep 'em in. They use th' wood for making other things, too,
+      an' it is of two colors. Th' sap makes a dye what won't wash out, an' th'
+      beans make a bread what won't sour or get hard. Then it makes a barrier
+      that shore is a dandy-coyotes an' men can't get through it, an' it
+      protects a whole lot of birds an' things. Th' snakes hate it like poison,
+      for th' thorns get under their scales an' whoops things up for 'em. It
+      keeps th' sand from shiftin', too. Down South where there is plenty of
+      water, it often grows forty feet high, but up here it squats close to th'
+      ground so it can save th' moisture. In th' night th' temperature sometimes
+      falls thirty degrees, an' that helps it, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can it live without water?&rdquo; She asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It gets all th' water it wants,&rdquo; he replied, smiling. &ldquo;Th' tap roots go
+      straight down 'til they find it, sometimes fifty feet. That's why it don't
+      shrivel up in th' sun. Then there are a lot of little roots right under it
+      an' they protects th' tap roots. Th' shade it gives is th' coolest out
+      here, for th' leaves turn with th' wind an' lets th' breeze
+      through-they're hung on little stems.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How splendid!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Oh! Look there!&rdquo; she cried, pointing ahead
+      of them. A chaparral cock strutted from its decapitated enemy, a
+      rattlesnake, and disappeared in the chaparral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong laughed: &ldquo;Mr. Scissors-bill Road-runner has great fun with
+      snakes. He runs along th' sand-an' he can run, too&mdash;an' sees a snake
+      takin' a siesta. Snip! goes his bill an' th' snake slides over th' Divide.
+      Our fighting friend may stop some coyote's appetite before morning,
+      though, unless he stays where he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then a gray wolf blundered in sight a few rods ahead of them, and
+      Hopalong fired instantly. His companion shrunk from him and looked at him
+      reproachfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you do that!&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, because they costs us big money every year,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;There's a
+      bounty on them because they pull down calves, an' sometimes full grown
+      cows. I'm shore wonderin' why he got so close&mdash;they're usually just
+      out of range, where they stays.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promise me that you will shoot no more while I am with you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, shore: I didn't think yu'd care,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;Yu are like that
+      sky-pilot over to Las Cruces&mdash;he preached agin killin' things, which
+      is all right for him, who didn't have no cows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you go to the missions?&rdquo; She asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He replied that he did, sometimes, but forgot to add that it was usually
+      for the purpose of hilarity, for he regarded sky-pilots with humorous
+      toleration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me all about yourself&mdash;what you do for enjoyment and all about
+      your work,&rdquo; she requested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He explained in minute detail the art of punching cows, and told her more
+      of the West in half an hour than she could have learned from a year's
+      experience. She showed such keen interest in his words that it was a
+      pleasure to talk to her, and he monopolized the conversation until the
+      town intruded its sprawling collection of unpainted shacks and adobe huts
+      in their field of vision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. The Strategy of Mr. Peters
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong and his companion rode into Muddy Wells at noon, and Red Connors,
+      who leaned with Buck Peters against the side of Tom Lee's saloon, gasped
+      his astonishment. Buck looked twice to be sure, and then muttered
+      incredulously: &ldquo;What th' heck!&rdquo; Red repeated the phrase and retreated
+      within the saloon, while Buck stood his ground, having had much experience
+      with women, inasmuch as he had narrowly escaped marrying. He thought that
+      he might as well get all the information possible, and waited for an
+      introduction. It was in vain, however, for the two rode past without
+      noticing him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck watched them turn the corner and then called for Red to come out, but
+      that person, fearing an ordeal, made no reply and the foreman went in
+      after him. The timorous one was corraling bracers at the bar and nearly
+      swallowed down the wrong channel when Buck placed a heavy hand on his
+      broad shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'way!&rdquo; remarked Red. &ldquo;I don't want no introduction, none whatever,&rdquo; he
+      asserted. &ldquo;G'way!&rdquo; he repeated, backing off suspiciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better wait 'til yu are asked,&rdquo; suggested Buck. &ldquo;Better wait 'til yu sees
+      th' rope afore yu duck.&rdquo; Then he laughed: &ldquo;Yu bashful fellers make me
+      plumb disgusted. Why, I've seen yu face a bunch of guns an never turn a
+      hair, an' here yore all in because yu fear yu'll have to stand around an'
+      hide yore hands. She won't bite yu. Anyway, from what I saw, Hopalong is
+      due to be her grub&mdash;he never saw me at all, th' chump.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shore didn't see me, none,&rdquo; replied Red with distinct relief. &ldquo;Are
+      they gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shore,&rdquo; answered Buck. &ldquo;An' if they wasn't they wouldn't see us, not if
+      we stood in front of them an' yelled. She's a hummer-stands two hands
+      under him an' is a whole lot prettier than that picture Cowan has got over
+      his bar. There's nothing th' matter with his eyesight, but he's plumb
+      locoed, all th' same. He'll go an' get stuck on her an' then she'll hit
+      th' trail for home an' mamma, an' he won't be worth his feed for a year.&rdquo;
+       Then he paused in consternation: &ldquo;Thunder, Red: he's got to shoot
+      to-morrow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, suppose he has?&rdquo; Responded Red. &ldquo;I don't reckon she'll stampede his
+      gun-play none.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu don't reckon, eh?&rdquo; Queried Buck with much irony. &ldquo;No, an' that's
+      what's th' matter with yu. Why, do yu expect to see him to-morrow? Yu
+      won't if I knows him an' I reckon I do. Nope, he'll be follerin' her all
+      around.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's got sand to burn,&rdquo; remarked Red in awe. &ldquo;Wonder how he got to know
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu can gamble she did th' introducing part&mdash;he ain't got th' nerve
+      to do it himself. He saved her life, or she thinks he did, or some
+      romantic nonsense like that. So yu better go around an' get him away, an'
+      keep him away, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who, me?&rdquo; Inquired Red in indignation. &ldquo;Me go around an' tote him off? I
+      ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle of
+      next week for it. He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself,&rdquo;
+       responded Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu! Wait a minute!&rdquo; cried Red in consternation. Buck paused and Red
+      groped for an excuse: &ldquo;Why don't you send Billy?&rdquo; He blurted in
+      desperation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his thigh
+      in joy: &ldquo;Good boy!&rdquo; he laughed. &ldquo;Billy's th' man&mdash;good Lord, but
+      won't he give Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic soul
+      to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, &ldquo;Hey,
+      Billy!&rdquo; and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at his
+      lack of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the
+      accidental street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy
+      steps and was trying to sing many songs at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to
+      starboard: &ldquo;Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his displeasure
+      at this unwarranted action: &ldquo;I ain't no wife-deserter!&rdquo; he shouted.
+      &ldquo;Unrope me an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me!&rdquo; Then he
+      recognized his friend and grinned joyously: &ldquo;Shore I will, but only one.
+      Jus' one more, jus' one more. Yu see, m'friend, it was all Jimmy's fault.
+      He&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating
+      friend to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This yere,&rdquo; said Red in belligerent disgust, &ldquo;is th' dod-blasted hero
+      what's a-goin' to save Hopalong from a mournful future. What are we
+      a-goin' to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck slipped the Colt's from Billy's holster and yanked the erring one to
+      his feet: &ldquo;Fill him full of sweet oil, source him in th' trough, walk him
+      around for awhile an' see what it does,&rdquo; he ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two hours later Billy walked up to his foreman and weakly asked what was
+      wanted. He looked as though he had just been released from a six-months'
+      stay in a hospital.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu go over to th' hotel an' find Hopalong,&rdquo; said the foreman sternly.
+      &ldquo;Stay with him all th' time, for there is a plot on foot to wing him on
+      th' sly. If yu ain't mighty spry he'll be dead by night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having delivered the above instructions and prevarications, Buck throttled
+      the laugh which threatened to injure him and scowled at Red, who again
+      fled into the saloon for fear of spoiling it all with revealed mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The convalescent stared in open-mouthed astonishment:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's he doin' in th' hotel, an' who's goin' to plug him?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu leave that to me,&rdquo; replied Buck, &ldquo;All yu has to do is to get on th'
+      job with yore gun,&rdquo; handing the weapon to him, &ldquo;an' freeze to him like a
+      flea on a cow. Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't none
+      of yore funeral&mdash;yu do what I said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blast th' women!&rdquo; exploded Billy, moving off. When he had entered the
+      hotel Buck went in to Red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Pete's sake!&rdquo; moaned that person in senseless reiteration. &ldquo;Th' Lord
+      help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Gimme a drink an' let me tell th'
+      boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their
+      uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring the
+      desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6.
+      Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and
+      entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young woman, and
+      on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly white-whiskered
+      gentleman who was reading a magazine. Billy felt like a criminal for a few
+      seconds and then there came to him the thought that his was a mission of
+      great import and he braced himself to face any ordeal. &ldquo;Anyway,&rdquo; he
+      thought, &ldquo;th' prettier they are th' more dust they can raise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are yu doing here?&rdquo; Cried Hopalong in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right,&rdquo; averred the protector, confidentially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, everything,&rdquo; replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw the
+      armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth. He felt for his
+      spectacles, but did not need them, for he could see nothing but the Colt's
+      which Billy jabbed at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None of that!&rdquo; snapped Billy. &ldquo;'ands up!&rdquo; he ordered, and the hands went
+      up so quick that when they stopped the jerk shook the room. Peering over
+      the gentleman's leg, Billy saw the spectacles and backed to the wall as he
+      apologized: &ldquo;It's shore on me, Stranger&mdash;I reckoned yu was
+      contemplatin' some gun-play.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong, blazing with wrath, arose and shoved Billy toward the hail, when
+      Mr. Johnny Nelson, oozing fight and importance, intruded his person into
+      the zone of action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord!&rdquo; ejaculated the newcomer, staring at the vision of female
+      loveliness which so suddenly greeted him. &ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; he added under his
+      breath. Then he tore off his sombrero: &ldquo;Come out of this, Billy, yu
+      chump!&rdquo; he exploded, backing toward the door, being followed by the
+      protector.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong slammed the door and turned to his hostess, apologizing for the
+      disturbance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are they?&rdquo; Palpitated Miss Deane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the deuce are they doing up here!&rdquo; blazed her father. Hopalong
+      disclaimed any knowledge of them and just then Billy opened the door and
+      looked in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There he is again!&rdquo; cried Miss Deane, and her father gasped. Hopalong ran
+      out into the hall and narrowly missed kicking Billy into Kingdom Come as
+      that person slid down the stairs, surprised and indignant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Billy Williams, who sat at the top of the stairs, was feeling hungry
+      and thirsty when he saw his friend, Mr. Pete Wilson, the slow witted,
+      approaching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, Pete,&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;come up here an' watch this door while I rustles
+      some grub. Keep yore eyes open,&rdquo; he cautioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Pete began to feel restless the door opened and a dignified gentleman
+      with white whiskers came out into the hall and then retreated with great
+      haste and no dignity. Pete got the drop on the door and waited. Hopalong
+      yanked it open and kissed the muzzle of the weapon before he could stop,
+      and Pete grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Coming to th' fight?&rdquo; He loudly asked. &ldquo;It's going to be a shore 'nough
+      sumptious scrap&mdash;just th' kind yu allus like. Come on, th' boys are
+      waitin' for yu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep quiet!&rdquo; hissed Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; Asked Pete in surprise. &ldquo;Didn't yu say yu shore wanted to see
+      that scrap?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut yore face an' get scarce, or yu'll go home in cans!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Hopalong seated himself once more Red strolled up to the door and
+      knocked. Hopalong ripped it open and Red, looking as fierce and worried as
+      he could, asked Hopalong if he was all right. Upon being assured by
+      smoking adjectives that he was, the caller looked relieved and turned
+      thoughtfully away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, yu! Come here!&rdquo; called Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red waved his hand and said that he had to meet a man and clattered down
+      the stairs. Hopalong thought that he, also, had to meet a man and,
+      excusing himself, hastened after his friend and overtook him in the
+      Street, where he forced a confession. Returning to his hostess he told her
+      of the whole outrage, and she was angry at first, but seeing the humorous
+      side of it, she became convulsed with laughter. Her father re-read his
+      paragraph for the thirteenth time and then, slamming the magazine on the
+      floor, asked how many times he was expected to read ten lines before he
+      knew what was in them, and went down to the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Deane regarded her companion with laughing eyes and then became
+      suddenly sober as he came toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to your foreman and tell him that you will shoot to-morrow, for I will
+      see that you do, and I will bring luck to the Bar-20. Be sure to call for
+      me at one o'clock: I will be ready.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hesitated, bowed, and slowly departed, making his way to Tom Lee's,
+      where his entrance hushed the hilarity which had reigned. Striding to
+      where Buck stood, he placed his hands on his hips and searched the
+      foreman's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck smiled: &ldquo;Yu ain't mad, are yu?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong relaxed: &ldquo;No, but blame near it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red and the others grabbed him from the rear, and when he had been
+      &ldquo;buffaloed&rdquo; into good humor he threw them from him, laughed and waved his
+      hand toward the bar:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come up, yu sons-of-guns. Yore a cussed nuisance sometimes, but yore a
+      bully gang all th' same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a
+      dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro and
+      monte. The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was flush.
+      This pleasing opulence was due to his business ability, for he had
+      recently sold a claim for several thousand dollars. The first operation
+      was simple, being known in Western phraseology as &ldquo;jumping&rdquo;; and the
+      second, somewhat more complicated, was known as &ldquo;salting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The first of the money spent went for a complete new outfit, and he had
+      parted with just three hundred and seventy dollars to feed his vanity. He
+      desired something contrasty and he procured it. His sombrero, of gray felt
+      a quarter of an inch thick, flaunted a band of black leather, on which was
+      conspicuously displayed a solid silver buckle. His neck was protected by a
+      crimson kerchief of the finest, heaviest silk. His shirt, in pattern the
+      same as those commonly worn in the cow country, was of buckskin, soft as a
+      baby's cheek and impervious to water, and the Angora goatskin chaps, with
+      the long silken hair worn outside, were as white as snow. Around his waist
+      ran loosely a broad, black leather belt supporting a heavy black holster,
+      in which lay its walnut-handled burden, a .44 caliber six-shooter; and
+      thirty center-fire cartridges peeked from their loops, fifteen on a side.
+      His boots, the soles thin and narrow and the heels high, were black and of
+      the finest leather. Huge spurs, having two-inch rowels, were held in place
+      by buckskin straps, on which, also, were silver buckles. Protecting his
+      hands were heavy buckskin gloves, also waterproof, having wide, black
+      gauntlets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each dainty hock of his dainty eight-hundred-pound buckskin pony was
+      black, and a black star graced its forehead. Well groomed, with flowing
+      mane and tail, and with the brand on its flank being almost imperceptible,
+      the animal was far different in appearance from most of the cow-ponies.
+      Vicious and high-spirited, it cavorted just enough to show its lines to
+      the best advantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The saddle, a famous Cheyenne and forty pounds in weight, was black,
+      richly embossed, and decorated with bits of beaten silver which flashed
+      back the sunlight. At the pommel hung a thirty-foot coil of braided
+      horsehair rope, and at the rear was a Sharp's .50-caliber, breech-loading
+      rifle, its owner having small use for any other make. The color of the
+      bridle was the same as the saddle and it supported a heavy U bit which was
+      capable of a leverage sufficient to break the animal's jaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex was proud of his outfit, but his face wore a frown&mdash;not there
+      only on acount of his losses, but also by reason of his mission, for under
+      all his finery beat a heart as black as any in the cow country. For months
+      he had smothered hot hatred and he was now on his way to ease himself of
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He and Slim Travennes had once exchanged shots with Hopalong in Santa Fe,
+      and the month which he had spent in bed was not pleasing, and from that
+      encounter had sprung the hatred. That he had been in the wrong made no
+      difference with him. Some months later he had learned of the death of
+      Slim, and it was due to the same man. That Slim had again been in the
+      wrong also made no difference, for he realized the fact and nothing else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lately he had been told of the death of Slippery Trendley and Deacon
+      Rankin, and he accepted their passing as a personal affront. That they had
+      been caught red-handed in cattle stealing of huge proportions and received
+      only what was customary under the conditions formed no excuse in his mind
+      for their passing. He was now on his way to attend the carnival at Muddy
+      Wells, knowing that his enemy would be sure to be there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While passing through Las Cruces he met Porous Johnson and Silent Somes,
+      who were thirsty and who proclaimed that fact, whereupon he relieved them
+      of their torment and, looking forward to more treatment of a similar
+      nature, they gladly accompanied him without asking why or where.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they left the town in their rear Tex turned in his saddle and surveyed
+      them with a cynical smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have yu heard anything of Trendley?&rdquo; He asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They shook their heads.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Him an' th' Deacon was killed over in th' Panhandle,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; chorused the pair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jack Dorman, Shorty Danvers, Charley Teale, Stiffhat Bailey, Billy
+      Jackson, Terry Nolan an' Sailor Carson was lynched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; they shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fish O'Brien, Pinochle Schmidt, Tom Wilkins, Apache Gordon, Charley of
+      th' Bar Y, Penobscot Hughes an' about twenty others died fightin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Porous looked his astonishment: &ldquo;Cavalry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' I'm going after th' dogs who did it,&rdquo; he continued, ignoring the
+      question. &ldquo;Are yu with me?&mdash;Yu used to pal with some of them, didn't
+      yu?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We did, an' we're shore with yu!&rdquo; cried Porous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore right,&rdquo; endorsed Silent. &ldquo;But who done it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That gang what's punchin' for th' Bar-20-Hopalong Cassidy is th' one I'm
+      pining for. Yu fellers can take care of Peters an' Connors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two stiffened and exchanged glances of uncertainty and apprehension.
+      The outfit of the Bar-20 was too well known to cause exuberant joy to
+      spring from the idea of war with it, and well in the center of all the
+      tales concerning it were the persons Tex had named. To deliberately set
+      forth with the avowed intention of planting these was not at all
+      calculated to induce sweet dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex sneered his contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yore shore uneasy: yu ain't a-scared, are yu?&rdquo; He drawled. Porous relaxed
+      and made a show of subduing his horse: &ldquo;I reckon I ain't scared plumb to
+      death. Yu can deal me a hand,&rdquo; he asserted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll draw cards too,&rdquo; hastily announced Silent, buttoning his vest. &ldquo;Tell
+      us about that jamboree over in th' Panhandle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex repeated the story as he had heard it from a bibulous member of the
+      Barred Horseshoe, and then added a little of torture as a sauce to whet
+      their appetites for revenge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did Trendley cash in?&rdquo; Asked Porous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nobody knows except that bum from th' Tin-Cup. I'll get him later. I'd a
+      got Cassidy up in Santa Fe, too, if it wasn't for th' sun in my eyes. Me
+      an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see nothing with
+      him a-standin' against th' sun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's Slim now?&rdquo; Asked Porous. &ldquo;I ain't seen him for some time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slim's with Trendley,&rdquo; replied Tex. &ldquo;Cassidy handed him over to St. Pete
+      at Cactus Springs. Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an' his
+      vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town plumb off
+      th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own account. I'll
+      prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long. It's cost me seventeen
+      friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or make another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered Muddy Wells at sunrise on the day of the carnival and, eating
+      a hearty breakfast, sallied forth to do their share toward making the
+      festivities a success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first step considered necessary for the acquirement of case and polish
+      was begun at the nearest bar, and Tex, being the host, was so liberal that
+      his friends had reached a most auspicious state when they followed him to
+      Tom Lee's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex was too wise to lose his head through drink and had taken only enough
+      to make him careless of consequences. Porous was determined to sing &ldquo;Annie
+      Laurie,&rdquo; although he hung on the last word of the first line until out of
+      breath and then began anew. Silent, not wishing to be outdone, bawled at
+      the top of his lungs a medley of music-hall words to the air of a hymn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex, walking as awkwardly as any cow-puncher, approached Tom Lee's, his
+      two friends trailing erratically, arm in arm, in his rear. Swinging his
+      arm he struck the door a resounding blow and entered, hand on gun, as it
+      crashed back. Porous and Silent stood in the doorway and quarreled as to
+      what each should drink and, compromising, lurched in and seated themselves
+      on a table and resumed their vocal perpetrations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tex swaggered over to the bar and tossed a quarter upon it: &ldquo;Corn juice,&rdquo;
+       he laconically exclaimed. Tossing off the liquor and glancing at his
+      howling friends, he shrugged his shoulders and strode out by the rear
+      door, slamming it after him. Porous and Silent, recounting friends who had
+      &ldquo;cashed in&rdquo; fell to weeping and they were thus occupied when Hopalong and
+      Buck entered, closely followed by the rest of the outfit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Buck walked to the bar and was followed by Hopalong, who declined his
+      foreman's offer to treat. Tom Lee set a bottle at Buck's elbow and placed
+      his hands against the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friend of yourn just hit the back trail,&rdquo; he remarked to Hopalong. &ldquo;He
+      was primed some for trouble, too,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yaas?&rdquo; Drawled Hopalong with little interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor restacked the few glasses and wiped off the bar. &ldquo;Them's
+      his pardners,&rdquo; he said, indicating the pair on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong turned his head and gravely scrutinized them. Porous was
+      bemoaning the death of Slim Travennes and Hopalong frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't reckon he's no relation of mine,&rdquo; he grunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he ain't yore sister,&rdquo; replied Tom Lee, grinning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's his brand?&rdquo; Asked the puncher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he's a maverick, 'though yu put yore brand on him up to Santa Fe
+      a couple of years back. Since he's throwed back on yore range I reckon
+      he's yourn if yu wants him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon Tex is some sore,&rdquo; remarked Hopalong, rolling a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he is,&rdquo; replied the proprietor, tossing Buck's quarter in the
+      cash box. &ldquo;But, say, you should oughter see his rig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yaas?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's shore a cow-punch dude&mdash;my, but he's some sumptious an'
+      highfalutin'. An' bad? Why, he reckons th' Lord never brewed a more
+      high-toned brand of cussedness than his'n. He shore reckons he's the
+      baddest man that ever simmered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How'd he look as th' leadin' man in a necktie festival?&rdquo; Blazed Johnny
+      from across the room, feeling called upon to help the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'd be a howlin' success, son,&rdquo; replied Skinny Thompson, &ldquo;judgin' by his
+      friends what we elevated over in th' Panhandle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lanky Smith leaned forward with his elbow on the table, resting his chin
+      in the palm of his hand: &ldquo;Is Ewalt still a-layin' for yu, Hopalong?&rdquo; He
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong turned wearily and tossed his half-consumed cigarette into the
+      box of sand which did duty as a cuspidore: &ldquo;I reckon so; an' he shore can
+      hatch whenever he gets good an ready, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's probably a-broodin' over past grievances,&rdquo; offered Johnny, as he
+      suddenly pushed Lanky's elbow from the table, nearly causing a
+      catastrophe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yu'll be broodin' over present grievances if yu don't look out, yu
+      everlastin' nuisance yu,&rdquo; growled Lanky, planting his elbow in its former
+      position with an emphasis which conveyed a warning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These bantams ruflle my feathers,&rdquo; remarked Red. &ldquo;They go around braggin'
+      about th' egg they're goin' to lay an' do enough cacklin' to furnish music
+      for a dozen. Then when th' affair comes off yu'll generally find they's
+      been settin' on a door-knob.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu ever see a hen leave th' walks of peace an' bugs an' rustle
+      hell-bent across th' trail plumb in front of a cayuse?&rdquo; Asked Buck.
+      &ldquo;They'll leave off rustlin' grub an' become candidates for th' graveyard
+      just for cussedness. Well, a whole lot of men are th' same way. How many
+      times have I seen them swagger into a gin shop an' try to run things
+      sudden an' hard, an' that with half a dozen better men in th' same room?
+      There's shore a-plenty of trouble a-comin' to every man without rustlin'
+      around for more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Member that time yu an' Frenchy tried to run th' little town of Frozen
+      Nose, up in Montana?&rdquo; Asked Johnny, winking at the rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' we did run it, for a while,&rdquo; responded Buck. &ldquo;But that only goes to
+      show that most young men are chumps&mdash;we were just about yore age
+      then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red laughed at the youngster's discomfiture: &ldquo;That little squib of yourn
+      shore touched her off&mdash;I reckon we irrigates on yu this time, don't
+      we?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' more th' Kid talks, th' more money he needs,&rdquo; remarked Lanky, placing
+      his glass on the bar. &ldquo;He had to blow me an' Skinny twice last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got two more after yu left,&rdquo; added Skinny &ldquo;He shore oughter practice
+      keeping still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+At one o'clock sharp Hopalong walked up to the clerk of the hotel and
+grinned. The clerk looked up:
+
+ &ldquo;Hullo, Cassidy?&rdquo;  He exclaimed, genially. &ldquo;What was all that fuss
+about this mornin' when I was away? I haven't seen you for a long time,
+have I? How are you?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That fuss was a fool joke of Buck's, an' I wish they had been throwed
+      out,&rdquo; Hopalong replied. &ldquo;What I want to know is if Miss Deane is in her
+      room. Yu see, I have a date with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk grinned:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So she's roped you, too, has she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do yu mean?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong in surprise. &ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; laughed the
+      clerk. &ldquo;You punchers are easy. Any third-rate actress that looks good to
+      eat can rope you fellows, all right. Now look here, Laura, you keep shy of
+      her corral, or you'll be broke so quick you won't believe you ever had a
+      cent: that's straight. This is the third year that she's been here and I
+      know what I'm talking about. How did you come to meet her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong explained the meeting and his friend laughed again:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, she knows this country like a book. She can't get lost anywhere
+      around here. But she's blame clever at catching punchers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon I'd better take her, go broke or not,&rdquo; replied Hopalong.
+      &ldquo;Is she in her room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is, but she is not alone,&rdquo; responded the clerk. &ldquo;There is a dude
+      puncher up there with her and she left word here that she was indisposed,
+      which means that you are outlawed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo; Asked Hopalong, having his suspicions. &ldquo;That friend of yours:
+      Ewalt. He sported a wad this morning when she passed him, and she let him
+      make her acquaintance. He's another easy mark. He'll be busted wide open
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'll see Tex,&rdquo; suggested Hopalong, starting for the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come back, you chump!&rdquo; cried the clerk. &ldquo;I don't want any shooting here.
+      What do you care about it? Let her have him, for it's an easy way out of
+      it for you. Let him think he's cut you out, for he'll spend all the more
+      freely. Get your crowd and enlighten them&mdash;it'll be better than a
+      circus. This may sound like a steer, but it's straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong thought for a minute and then leaned on the cigar case:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'll take about a dozen of yore very best cigars, Charley. Got
+      any real high-toned brands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cortez panatella&mdash;two for a simoleon,&rdquo; Chancy replied. &ldquo;But, seein'
+      that it's you, I'll throw off a dollar on a dozen. They're a fool notion
+      of the old man, for we can't sell one in a month.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong dug up a handful and threw one on the counter, lighting another:
+      &ldquo;Yu light a Cortez panatella with me,&rdquo; he said, pocketing the remainder.
+      &ldquo;That's five simoleons she didn't get. So long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He journeyed to Tom Lee's and found his outfit making merry. Passing
+      around his cigars he leaned against the bar and delighted in the first
+      really good smoke he had since he came home from Kansas City.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnny Nelson blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling and paused with a
+      pleased expression on his face:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a lalapoloosa of a cigar,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Where'd yu get it, an' how
+      many's left?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got it from Charley, an' there's more than yu can buy at fifty a shot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll just take a few for luck,&rdquo; Johnny responded, running out into
+      the street. Returning in five minutes with both hands full of cigars he
+      passed them around and grinned: &ldquo;They're birds, all right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hopalong smiled, turned to Buck and related his conversation with Chancy.
+      &ldquo;What do yu think of that?&rdquo; He asked as he finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think Charley oughter be yore guardian,&rdquo; replied the foreman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was,&rdquo; replied Hopalong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If we sees Tex we'll all grin hard,&rdquo; laughed Red, making for the door.
+      &ldquo;Come on to th' contests&mdash;Lanky's gone already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Muddy Wells streamed to the carnival grounds and relieved itself of its
+      enthusiasm and money at the booths on the way. Cow-punchers rubbed elbows
+      with Indians and Mexicans, and the few tourists that were present were
+      delighted with the picturesque scene. The town was full of fakirs and
+      before one of them stood a group of cow-punchers, apparently drinking in
+      the words of a barker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right this way, gents, and see the woman who don't eat. Lived for two
+      years without food, gents. Right this way, gents. Only a quarter of a
+      dollar. Get your tickets, gents, and see&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Red pushed forward:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did yu say, pard?&rdquo; He asked. &ldquo;I'm a little off in my near ear.
+      What's that about eatin' a woman for two years?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The greatest wonder of the age, gents. The wom&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any discount for th' gang?&rdquo; Asked Buck, gawking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't yu quit smokin' an' buy th' lady a meal?&rdquo; Asked Johnny from the
+      center of the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Th' cane yu ring th' cane yu get!&rdquo; came from the other side of the street
+      and Hopalong purchased rings for the outfit. Twenty-four rings got one
+      cane, and it was divided between them as they wended their way toward the
+      grounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That makes six wheels she didn't get,&rdquo; murmured Hopalong. As they passed
+      the snake charmer's booth they saw Tex and his companion ahead of them in
+      the crowd, and they grinned broadly. &ldquo;I like th' front row in th'
+      balcony,&rdquo; remarked Johnny, who had been to Kansas City. &ldquo;Don't cry in th'
+      second act&mdash;it ain't real,&rdquo; laughed Red. &ldquo;We'll hang John Brown on a
+      sour appletree&mdash;in th' Panhandle,&rdquo; sang Skinny as they passed them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arriving at the grounds they hunted up the registration committee and
+      entered in the contests. As Hopalong signed for the revolver competition
+      he was rudely pushed aside and Tex wrote his name under that of his enemy.
+      Hopalong was about to show quick resentment for the insult, but thought of
+      what Charley had said, and he grinned sympathetically. The seats were
+      filling rapidly, and the outfit went along the ground looking for friends.
+      A bugle sounded and a hush swept over the crowd as the announcement was
+      made for the first event.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Broncho-busting-Red Devil, never ridden: Frenchy McAllister, Tin-Cup,
+      Montana; Meteor, killed his man: Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, Texas; Vixen,
+      never ridden: Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, Texas.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All eyes were focused on the plain where the horse was being led out for
+      the first trial. After the usual preliminaries had been gone through
+      Frenchy walked over to it, vaulted in the saddle and the bandage was torn
+      from the animal's eyes. For ten minutes the onlookers were held spellbound
+      by the fight before them, and then the horse kicked and galloped away and
+      Frenchy was picked up and carried from the field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too bad!&rdquo; cried Buck, running from the outfit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did yu see it?&rdquo; asked Johnny excitedly, &ldquo;Th' cinch busted.&rdquo; Another horse
+      was led out and Skinny Thompson vaulted to the saddle, and after a fight
+      of half an hour rode the animal from the enclosure to the clamorous shouts
+      of his friends. Lefty Allen also rode his mount from the same gate, but
+      took ten minutes more in which to do it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped forward:
+      &ldquo;First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten seconds; second,
+      Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven seconds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if he had
+      just won a championship. They made way for him, and Johnny, who could not
+      restrain his enthusiasm pounded him on the back and cried: &ldquo;Yu old
+      son-of-a-gun!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The announcer again came forward and gave out the competitors for the next
+      contest, steer-roping and tying. Lanky Smith arose and, coiling his rope
+      carefully, disappeared into the crowd. The fun was not so great in this,
+      but when he returned to his outfit with the phenomenal time of six minutes
+      and eight seconds for his string of ten steers, with twenty-two seconds
+      for one of them, they gave him vociferous greeting. Three of his steers
+      had gotten up after he had leaped from his saddle to tie them, but his
+      horse had taken care of that. His nearest rival was one minute over him
+      and Lanky retained the championship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red Connors shot with such accuracy in the rifle contest as to run his
+      points twenty per cent higher than Waffles, of the O-Bar-O, and won the
+      new rifle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The main interest centered in the revolver contest, for it was known that
+      the present champion was to defend his title against an enemy and fears
+      were expressed in the crowd that there would be an &ldquo;accident.&rdquo; Buck Peters
+      and Red stood just behind the firing line with their hands on hips, and
+      Tex, seeing the precautions, smiled grimly as he advanced to the line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Six bottles, with their necks an inch above a board, stood twenty paces
+      from him, and he broke them all in as many shots, taking twelve seconds in
+      which to do it. Hopalong followed him and tied the score. Three tin balls
+      rolling erratically in a blanket supported by two men were sent flying
+      into the air in four shots, Tex taking six seconds. His competitor sent
+      them from the blanket in three shots and in the same time. In slow
+      shooting from sights Tex passed his rival in points and stood to win.
+      There was but one more event to be contested and in it Hopalong found his
+      joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shooting from the hip when the draw is timed is not the sport of even good
+      shots, and when Tex made sixty points out of a possible hundred, he felt
+      that he had shot well. When Hopalong went to the line his friends knew
+      that they would now see shooting such as would be almost unbelievable,
+      that the best draw-and-shoot marksman in their State was the man who
+      limped slightly as he advanced and who chewed reflectively on his
+      fifty-cent cigar. He wore two guns and he stepped with confidence before
+      the marshal of the town, who was also judge of the contest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The iron ball which lay on the ground was small enough for the use of a
+      rifle and could hardly be seen from the rear seats of the amphitheater.
+      There was a word spoken by the timekeeper, and a gloved hand flashed down
+      and up, and the ball danced and spun and leaped and rolled as shot after
+      shot followed it with a precision and speed which brought the audience to
+      a heavy silence. Taking the gun which Buck tossed to him and throwing it
+      into the empty holster, he awaited the signal, and then smoke poured from
+      his hips and the ball jumped continuously. Both guns emptied in the
+      two-hand shooting, he wheeled and jerked loose the guns which the marshal
+      wore, spinning around without a pause, the target hardly ceasing in its
+      rolling. Under his arms he shot, backward and between his legs; leaping
+      from side to side, ducking and dodging, following the ball wherever it
+      went. Reloading the weapons quickly, he stepped forward and followed the
+      ball until once more his guns were empty. Then he turned and walked back
+      to the side of the marshal, smiling a little. His friends, and there were
+      many in the crowd, torn from their affected nonchalance by shooting the
+      like of which they had not attributed even to him, roared and shouted and
+      danced in a frenzy of delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Red also threw his guns to Hopalong, who caught them in the air and
+      turning, faced Tex, who stood white of face and completely lost in the
+      forgetfulness of admiration and amazement. The guns jerked again and a
+      button flew from the buckskin shirt of his enemy; another tore a flower
+      from his breast and another drove it into the ground at his feet as others
+      stirred his hair and cut the buckle off his pretty sombrero. Tex, dazed,
+      but wise enough to stand quiet, felt his belt tear loose and drop to his
+      feet, felt a spur rip from its strap and saw his cigarette leap from his
+      lips. Throwing the guns to Red, Hopalong laughed and abruptly turned and
+      was lost in the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For several seconds there was silence, but when the dazed minds realized
+      what their eyes had seen, there arose a roar which shook the houses in the
+      town. Roar after roar thundered forth and was sent crashing back again by
+      the distant walls, sweeping down on the discomfited dude and causing him
+      to slink into the crowd to find a place less conspicuous. He was white yet
+      and keen fear gripped his heart as he realized that he had come to the
+      carnival with the expressed purpose of killing his enemy in fair combat.
+      The whole town knew it, for he had taken pains to spread the news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman he had been with knew it from words which she had overheard
+      while on her way to the grounds with him. His friends knew it and would
+      laugh him into forgetfulness as the fool who boasted. Now he understood
+      why he had lost so many friends: they had attempted what he had sworn to
+      attempt. Look where he would he could see only a smoke-wrapped demon who
+      moved and shot with a speed incredible. There was reason why Slim had
+      died. There was reason why Porous and Silent had paled when they learned
+      of their mission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He hated his conspicuous clothes and his pretty broncho, and the woman who
+      had gotten him to squander his money, and who was doubtless convulsed with
+      laughter at his expense. He worked himself into a passion which knew no
+      fear and he ran for the streets of the town, there to make good his boast
+      or to die. When he found his enemy he felt himself grasped with a grip of
+      steel and Buck Peters swung him around and grinned maliciously in his
+      face:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You plaything!&rdquo; hoarsely whispered the foreman. &ldquo;Why don't yu get away
+      while yu can? Why do yu want to throw yoreself against certain death? I
+      don't want my pleasure marred by a murder, an' that is what it will be if
+      yu makes a gun-play at Hopalong. He'll shoot yu as he did yore buttons.
+      Take yore pretty clothes an' yore pretty cayuse an' go where this is not
+      known, an' if ever again yu feels like killing Hopalong, get drunk an'
+      forget it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />&lt;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by
+Clarence Edward Mulford
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by 
+Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
+       Bar-20
+
+Author: Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+Release Date: March, 2001  [Etext #2546]
+Posting Date: November 13, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPALONG CASSIDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Heath
+
+
+
+
+
+HOPALONG CASSIDY'S RUSTLER ROUND-UP
+
+or
+
+BAR-20
+
+
+By Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. Buckskin
+
+The town lay sprawled over half a square mile of alkali plain, its main
+Street depressing in its width, for those who were responsible for its
+inception had worked with a generosity born of the knowledge that they
+had at their immediate and unchallenged disposal the broad lands of
+Texas and New Mexico on which to assemble a grand total of twenty
+buildings, four of which were of wood. As this material was scarce, and
+had to be brought from where the waters of the Gulf lapped against the
+flat coast, the last-mentioned buildings were a matter of local pride,
+as indicating the progressiveness of their owners.
+
+These creations of hammer and saw were of one story, crude and
+unpainted; their cheap weather sheathing, warped and shrunken by the
+pitiless sun, curled back on itself and allowed unrestricted entrance to
+alkali dust and air. The other shacks were of adobe, and reposed in that
+magnificent squalor dear to their owners, Indians and Mexicans.
+
+It was an incident of the Cattle Trail, that most unique and stupendous
+of all modern migrations, and its founders must have been inspired with
+a malicious desire to perpetrate a crime against geography, or else they
+reveled in a perverse cussedness, for within a mile on every side lay
+broad prairies, and two miles to the east flowed the indolent waters of
+the Rio Pecos itself. The distance separating the town from the river
+was excusable, for at certain seasons of the year the placid stream
+swelled mightily and swept down in a broad expanse of turbulent, yellow
+flood.
+
+Buckskin was a town of one hundred inhabitants, located in the valley of
+the Rio Pecos fifty miles south of the Texas-New Mexico line. The
+census claimed two hundred, but it was a well-known fact that it was
+exaggerated. One instance of this is shown by the name of Tom Flynn.
+Those who once knew Tom Flynn, alias Johnny Redmond, alias Bill Sweeney,
+alias Chuck Mullen, by all four names, could find them in the census
+list. Furthermore, he had been shot and killed in the March of the
+year preceding the census, and now occupied a grave in the young but
+flourishing cemetery. Perry's Bend, twenty miles up the river, was
+cognizant of this and other facts, and, laughing in open derision at
+the padded list, claimed to be the better town in all ways, including
+marksmanship.
+
+One year before this tale opens, Buck Peters, an example for the more
+recent Billy the Kid, had paid Perry's Bend a short but busy visit. He
+had ridden in at the north end of Main Street and out at the south. As
+he came in he was fired at by a group of ugly cowboys from a ranch known
+as the C 80. He was hit twice, but he unlimbered his artillery, and
+before his horse had carried him, half dead, out on the prairie, he had
+killed one of the group. Several citizens had joined the cowboys
+and added their bullets against Buck. The deceased had been the best
+bartender in the country, and the rage of the suffering citizens can
+well be imagined. They swore vengeance on Buck, his ranch, and his
+stamping ground.
+
+The difference between Buck and Billy the Kid is that the former never
+shot a man who was not trying to shoot him, or who had not been warned
+by some action against Buck that would call for it. He minded his own
+business, never picked a quarrel, and was quiet and pacific up to
+a certain point. After that had been passed he became like a raging
+cyclone in a tenement house, and storm-cellars were much in demand.
+
+"Fanning" is the name of a certain style of gun play not unknown among
+the bad men of the West. While Buck was not a bad man, he had to rub
+elbows with them frequently, and he believed that the sauce for the
+goose was the sauce for the gander. So be bad removed the trigger of his
+revolver and worked the hammer with the thumb of the "gun hand" or the
+heel of the unencumbered hand. The speed thus acquired was greater than
+that of the more modern double-action weapon. Six shots in a few seconds
+was his average speed when that number was required, and when it is
+thoroughly understood that at least some of them found their intended
+bullets it is not difficult to realize that fanning was an operation of
+danger when Buck was doing it.
+
+He was a good rider, as all cowboys are, and was not afraid of anything
+that lived. At one time he and his chums, Red Connors and Hopalong
+Cassidy, had successfully routed a band of fifteen Apaches who wanted
+their scalps. Of these, twelve never hunted scalps again, nor anything
+else on this earth, and the other three returned to their tribe with
+the report that three evil Spirits had chased them with "wheel guns"
+(cannons).
+
+So now, since his visit to Perry's Bend, the rivalry of the two towns
+had turned to hatred and an alert and eager readiness to increase the
+inhabitants of each other's graveyard. A state of war existed, which for
+a time resulted in nothing worse than acrimonious suggestions. But the
+time came when the score was settled to the satisfaction of one side, at
+least.
+
+Four ranches were also concerned in the trouble. Buckskin was surrounded
+by two, the Bar 20 and the Three Triangle. Perry's Bend was the
+common point for the C 80 and the Double Arrow. Each of the two ranch
+contingents accepted the feud as a matter of course, and as a matter
+of course took sides with their respective towns. As no better class of
+fighters ever lived, the trouble assumed Homeric proportions and insured
+a danger zone well worth watching.
+
+Bar-20's northern line was C 80's southern one, and Skinny Thompson took
+his turn at outriding one morning after the season's round-up. He was to
+follow the boundary and turn back stray cattle. When he had covered the
+greater part of his journey he saw Shorty Jones riding toward him on a
+course parallel to his own and about long revolver range away. Shorty
+and he had "crossed trails" the year before and the best of feelings did
+not exist between them.
+
+Shorty stopped and stared at Skinny, who did likewise at Shorty. Shorty
+turned his mount around and applied the spurs, thereby causing his
+indignant horse to raise both heels at Skinny. The latter took it all
+in gravely and, as Shorty faced him again, placed his left thumb to his
+nose, wiggling his fingers suggestively. Shorty took no apparent notice
+of this but began to shout:
+
+"Yu wants to keep yore busted-down cows on yore own side. They was all
+over us day afore yisterday. I'm goin' to salt any more what comes over,
+and don't yu fergit it, neither."
+
+Thompson wigwagged with his fingers again and shouted in reply: "Yu c'n
+salt all yu wants to, but if I ketch yu adoin' it yu won't have to work
+no more. An' I kin say right here thet they's more C 80 cows over here
+than they's Bar-20's over there."
+
+Shorty reached for his revolver and yelled, "Yore a liar!"
+
+Among the cowboys in particular and the Westerners in general at that
+time, the three suicidal terms, unless one was an expert in drawing
+quick and shooting straight with one movement, were the words "liar,"
+"coward," and "thief." Any man who was called one of these in earnest,
+and he was the judge, was expected to shoot if he could and save his
+life, for the words were seldom used without a gun coming with them. The
+movement of Shorty's hand toward his belt before the appellation reached
+him was enough for Skinny, who let go at long range--and missed.
+
+
+The two reports were as one. Both urged their horses nearer and fired
+again. This time Skinny's sombrero gave a sharp jerk and a hole appeared
+in the crown. The third shot of Skinny's sent the horse of the other to
+its knees and then over on its side. Shorty very promptly crawled behind
+it and, as he did so, Skinny began a wide circle, firing at intervals as
+Shorty's smoke cleared away.
+
+Shorty had the best position for defense, as he was in a shallow coule,
+but he knew that he could not leave it until his opponent had either
+grown tired of the affair or had used up his ammunition. Skinny knew it,
+too. Skinny also knew that he could get back to the ranch house and lay
+in a supply of food and ammunition and return before Shorty could cover
+the twelve miles he had to go on foot.
+
+Finally Thompson began to head for home. He had carried the matter as
+far as he could without it being murder. Too much time had elapsed now,
+and, besides, it was before breakfast and he was hungry. He would go
+away and settle the score at some time when they would be on equal
+terms.
+
+He rode along the line for a mile and chanced to look back. Two C 80
+punchers were riding after him, and as they saw him turn and discover
+them they fired at him and yelled. He rode on for some distance and
+cautiously drew his rifle out of its long holster at his right leg.
+Suddenly he turned around in the saddle and fired twice. One of his
+pursuers fell forward on the neck of his horse, and his comrade turned
+to help him. Thompson wig-wagged again and rode on, reaching the ranch
+as the others were finishing their breakfast.
+
+At the table Red Connors remarked that the tardy one had a hole in his
+sombrero, and asked its owner how and where he had received it.
+
+"Had a argument with C 80 out'n th' line."
+
+"Go 'way! Ventilate enny?"
+
+"One."
+
+"Good boy, sonny! Hey, Hopalong, Skinny perforated C 80 this mawnin'!"
+
+Hopalong Cassidy was struggling with a mouthful of beef. He turned his
+eyes toward Red without ceasing, and grinning as well as he could under
+the circumstances managed to grunt out "Gu--," which was as near to
+"Good" as the beef would allow.
+
+Lanky Smith now chimed in as he repeatedly stuck his knife into a
+reluctant boiled potato, "How'd yu do it, Skinny?"
+
+"Bet he sneaked up on him," joshed Buck Peters; "did yu ask his pardin,
+Skinny?"
+
+"Ask nuthin'," remarked Red, "he jest nachurly walks up to C 80 an' sez,
+'Kin I have the pleasure of ventilatin' yu?' an' C So he sez, 'If yu do
+it easy like,' sez he. Didn't he, Thompson?"
+
+"They'll be some ventilatin' under th' table if yu fellows don't lemme
+alone; I'm hungry," complained Skinny.
+
+"Say, Hopalong, I bets yu I kin clean up C 80 all by my lonesome,"
+announced Buck, winking at Red.
+
+"Yah! Yu onct tried to clean up the Bend, Buckie, an' if Pete an' Billy
+hadn't afound yu when they come by Eagle Pass that night yu wouldn't be
+here eatin' beef by th' pound," glancing at the hard-working Hopalong.
+"It was plum lucky fer yu that they was acourtin' that time, wasn't it,
+Hopalong?" suddenly asked Red. Hopalong nearly strangled in his efforts
+to speak. He gave it up and nodded his head.
+
+"Why can't yu git it straight, Connors? I wasn't doin' no courtin', it
+was Pete. I runned into him on th' other side o' th' pass. I'd look fine
+acourtin', wouldn't I?" asked the downtrodden Williams.
+
+Pete Wilson skillfully flipped a potato into that worthy's coffee,
+spilling the beverage of the questionable name over a large expanse of
+blue flannel shirt. "Yu's all right, yu are. Why, when I meets yu, yu
+was lost in th' arms of yore ladylove. All I could see was yore feet. Go
+an' git tangled up with a two hundred and forty pound half-breed squaw
+an' then try to lay it onter me! When I proposed drownin' yore
+troubles over at Cowan's, yu went an' got mad over what yu called th'
+insinooation. An' yu shore didn't look any too blamed fine, neither."
+
+"All th' same," volunteered Thompson, who had taken the edge from his
+appetite, "we better go over an' pay C 80 a call. I don't like what
+Shorty said about saltin' our cattle. He'll shore do it, unless I camps
+on th' line, which same I hain't hankerin' after."
+
+"Oh, he wouldn't stop th' cows that way, Skinny; he was only afoolin',"
+exclaimed Connors meekly.
+
+"Foolin' yore gran'mother! That there bunch'll do anything if we wasn't
+lookin'," hotly replied Skinny.
+
+"That's shore nuff gospel, Thomp. They's sore fer mor'n one thing. They
+got aplenty when Buck went on th' warpath, an they's hankerin' to git
+square," remarked Johnny Nelson, stealing the pie, a rare treat, of his
+neighbor when that unfortunate individual was not looking. He had
+it halfway to his mouth when its former owner, Jimmy Price, a boy of
+eighteen, turned his head and saw it going.
+
+"Hi-yi! Yu clay-bank coyote, drap thet pie! Did yu ever see such a
+son-of-a-gun fer pie?" he plaintively asked Red Connors, as he grabbed
+a mighty handful of apples and crust. "Pie'll kill yu some day, yu
+bob-tailed jack! I had an uncle that died onct. He et too much pie an'
+he went an' turned green, an so'll yu if yu don't let it alone."
+
+"Yu ought'r seed th' pie Johnny had down in Eagle Flat," murmured Lanky
+Smith reminiscently. "She had feet that'd stop a stampede. Johnny
+was shore loco about her. Swore she was the finest blossom that
+ever growed." Here he choked and tears of laughter coursed down his
+weather-beaten face as he pictured her. "She was a dainty Mexican, about
+fifteen han's high an' about sixteen han's around. Johnny used to chalk
+off when he hugged her, usen't yu, Johnny? One night when he had got
+purty well around on th' second lap he run inter a feller jest startin'
+out on his fust. They hain't caught that Mexican yet."
+
+Nelson was pelted with everything in sight. He slowly wiped off the
+pie crust and bread and potatoes. "Anybody'd think I was a busted grub
+wagon," he grumbled. When he had fished the last piece of beef out of
+his ear he went out and offered to stand treat. As the round-up was
+over, they slid into their saddles and raced for Cowan's saloon at
+Buckskin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. The Rashness of Shorty
+
+Buckskin was very hot; in fact it was never anything else. Few people
+were on the streets and the town was quiet. Over in the Houston hotel
+a crowd of cowboys was lounging in the barroom. They were very quiet--a
+condition as rare as it was ominous. Their mounts, twelve in all, were
+switching flies from their quivering skins in the corral at the rear.
+Eight of these had a large C 80 branded on their flanks; the other four,
+a Double Arrow.
+
+In the barroom a slim, wiry man was looking out of the dirty window
+up the street at Cowan's saloon. Shorty was complaining, "They shore
+oughter be here now. They rounded up last week." The man nearest assured
+him that they would come. The man at the window turned and said, "They's
+yer now."
+
+
+In front of Cowan's a crowd of nine happy-go-lucky, daredevil riders
+were sliding from their saddles. They threw their reins over the heads
+of their mounts and filed in to the bar. Laughter issued from the open
+door and the clink of glasses could be heard. They stood in picturesque
+groups, strong, self-reliant, humorous, virile. Their expensive
+sombreros were pushed far back on their heads and their hairy chaps were
+covered with the alkali dust from their ride.
+
+Cowan, bottle in hand, pushed out several more glasses. He kicked a dog
+from under his feet and looked at Buck. "Rounded up yet?" he inquired.
+
+"Shore, day afore yisterday," came the reply. The rest were busy
+removing the dust from their throats, and gradually drifted into groups
+of two or three. One of these groups strolled over to the solitary card
+table, and found Jimmy Price resting in a cheap chair, his legs on the
+table.
+
+"I wisht yu'd extricate yore delicate feet from off'n this hyar table,
+James," humbly requested Lanky Smith, morally backed up by those with
+him.
+
+"Ya-as, they shore is delicate, Mr. Smith," responded Jimmy without
+moving.
+
+"We wants to play draw, Jimmy," explained Pete.
+
+"Yore shore welcome to play if yu wants to. Didn't I tell yu when yu
+growed that mustache that yu didn't have to ask me any more?" queried
+the placid James, paternally.
+
+"Call 'em off, sonny. Pete sez he kin clean me out. Anyhow, yu kin have
+the fust deal," compromised Lanky.
+
+"I'm shore sorry fer Pete if he cayn't. Yu don't reckon I has to have
+fust deal to beat yu fellers, do yu? Go way an' lemme alone; I never
+seed such a bunch fer buttin' in as yu fellers."
+
+Billy Williams returned to the bar. Then he walked along it until he
+was behind the recalcitrant possessor of the table. While his aggrieved
+friends shuffled their feet uneasily to cover his approach, he tiptoed
+up behind Jimmy and, with a nod, grasped that indignant individual
+firmly by the neck while the others grabbed his feet. They carried him,
+twisting and bucking, to the middle of the street and deposited him in
+the dust, returning to the now vacant table.
+
+Jimmy rested quietly for a few seconds and then slowly arose, dusting
+the alkali from him.
+
+"Th' wall-eyed piruts," he muttered, and then scratched his head for
+a way to "play hunk." As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a
+snicker from behind him. He, thinking it was one of his late tormentors,
+paid no attention to it. Then a cynical, biting laugh stung him. He
+wheeled, to see Shorty leaning against a tree, a sneering leer on his
+flushed face. Shorty's right hand was suspended above his holster,
+hooked to his belt by the thumb--a favorite position of his when
+expecting trouble.
+
+"One of yore reg'lar habits?" he drawled.
+
+Jimmy began to dust himself in silence, but his lips were compressed to
+a thin white line.
+
+"Does they hurt yu?" pursued the onlooker.
+
+Jimmy looked up. "I heard tell that they make glue outen cayuses,
+sometimes," he remarked.
+
+Shorty's eyes flashed. The loss of the horse had been rankling in his
+heart all day.
+
+"Does they git yu frequent?" he asked. His voice sounded hard.
+
+"Oh, 'bout as frequent as yu lose a cayuse, I reckon," replied Jimmy
+hotly.
+
+Shorty's hand streaked to his holster and Jimmy followed his lead.
+Jimmy's Colt was caught. He had bucked too much. As he fell Shorty ran
+for the Houston House.
+
+Pistol shots were common, for they were the universal method of
+expressing emotions. The poker players grinned, thinking their victim
+was letting off his indignation. Lanky sized up his hand and remarked
+half audibly, "He's a shore good kid."
+
+The bartender, fearing for his new beveled, gilt-framed mirror, gave a
+hasty glance out the window. He turned around, made change and remarked
+to Buck, "Yore kid, Jimmy, is plugged." Several of the more credulous
+craned their necks to see, Buck being the first. "Judas!" he shouted,
+and ran out to where Jimmy lay coughing, his toes twitching. The saloon
+was deserted and a crowd of angry cowboys surrounded their chum-aboy.
+Buck had seen Shorty enter the door of the Houston House and he swore.
+"Chase them C 80 and Arrow cayuses behind the saloon, Pete, an' git
+under cover."
+
+Jimmy was choking and he coughed up blood. "He's shore--got me. My--gun
+stuck," he added apologetically. He tried to sit up, but was not able
+and he looked surprised. "It's purty-damn hot-out here," he suggested.
+Johnny and Billy carried him in the saloon and placed him by the table,
+in the chair he had previously vacated. As they stood up he fell across
+the table and died.
+
+Billy placed the dead boy's sombrero on his head and laid the refractory
+six-shooter on the table. "I wonder who th' dirty killer was." He looked
+at the slim figure and started to go out, followed by Johnny. As he
+reached the threshold a bullet zipped past him and thudded into the
+frame of the door. He backed away and looked surprised. "That's Shorty's
+shootin'--he allus misses 'bout that much." He looked out and saw Buck
+standing behind the live oak that Shorty had leaned against, firing at
+the hotel. Turning around he made for the rear, remarking to Johnny that
+"they's in th' Houston." Johnny looked at the quiet figure in the chair
+and swore softly. He followed Billy. Cowan, closing the door and taking
+a buffalo gun from under the bar, went out also and slammed the rear
+door forcibly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. The Argument
+
+Up the street two hundred yards from the Houston House Skinny and Pete
+lay hidden behind a bowlder. Three hundred yards on the other side of
+the hotel Johnny and Billy were stretched out in an arroyo. Buck was
+lying down now, and Hopalong, from his position in the barn belonging to
+the hotel, was methodically dropping the horses of the besieged, a job
+he hated as much as he hated poison. The corral was their death trap.
+Red and Lanky were emitting clouds of smoke from behind the store,
+immediately across the street from the barroom. A buffalo gun roared
+down by the plaza and several Sharps cracked a protest from different
+points. The town had awakened and the shots were dropping steadily.
+
+Strange noises filled the air. They grew in tone and volume and then
+dwindled away to nothing. The hum of the buffalo gun and the sobbing
+pi-in-in-ing of the Winchesters were liberally mixed with the sharp
+whines of the revolvers.
+
+There were no windows in the hotel now. Raw furrows in the bleached wood
+showed yellow, and splinters mysteriously sprang from the casings. The
+panels of the door were producing cracks and the cheap door handle
+flew many ways at once. An empty whisky keg on the stoop boomed out
+mournfully at intervals and finally rolled down the steps with a
+rumbling protest. Wisps of smoke slowly climbed up the walls and seemed
+to be waving defiance to the curling wisps in the open.
+
+
+Pete raised his shoulder to refill the magazine of his smoking rifle and
+dropped the cartridges all over his lap. He looked sheepishly at Skinny
+and began to load with his other hand.
+
+"Yore plum loco, yu are. Don't yu reckon they kin hit a blue shirt
+at two hundred?" Skinny cynically inquired. "Got one that time," he
+announced a second later.
+
+"I wonder who's got th' buffalo," grunted Pete. "Mus' be Cowan," he
+replied to his own question and settled himself to use his left hand.
+
+"Don't yu git Shorty; he's my meat," suggested Skinny.
+
+"Yu better tell Buck--he ain't got no love fer Shorty," replied Pete,
+aiming carefully.
+
+The panic in the corral ceased and Hopalong was now sending his regrets
+against the panels of the rear door. He had cut his last initial in the
+near panel and was starting a wobbly "H" in its neighbor. He was in a
+good position. There were no windows in the rear wall, and as the door
+was a very dangerous place he was not fired at.
+
+He began to get tired of this one-sided business and crawled up on the
+window ledge, dangling his feet on the outside. He occasionally sent a
+bullet at a different part of the door, but amused himself by annoying
+Buck.
+
+"Plenty hot down there?" he pleasantly inquired, and as he received no
+answer he tried again. "Better save some of them cartridges fer some
+other time, Buck."
+
+Buck was sending 45-70's into the shattered window with a precision that
+presaged evil to any of the defenders who were rash enough to try to
+gain the other end of the room.
+
+Hopalong bit off a chew of tobacco and drowned a green fly that was
+crawling up the side of the barn. The yellow liquid streaked downward a
+short distance and was eagerly sucked up by the warped boards.
+
+A spurt of smoke leaped from the battered door and the bored Hopalong
+promptly tumbled back inside. He felt of his arm, and then, delighted
+at the notice taken of his artistic efforts, shot several times from
+a crack on his right. "This yer's shore gittin' like home," he gravely
+remarked to the splinter that whizzed past his head. He shot again at
+the door and it sagged outward, accompanied by the thud of a falling
+body. "Pies like mother used to make," he announced to the loft as he
+slipped the magazine full of .45-70'S. "An' pills like popper used to
+take," he continued when he had lowered the level of the water in his
+flask.
+
+He rolled a cigarette and tossed the match into the air, extinguishing
+it by a shot from his Colt.
+
+"Got any cigarettes, Hoppy?" said a voice from below.
+
+"Shore," replied the joyous puncher, recognizing Pete; "how'd yu git
+here?"
+
+"Like a cow. Busy?"
+
+"None whatever. Comin' up?"
+
+"Nope. Skinny wants a smoke too."
+
+Hopalong handed tobacco and papers down the hole. "So long."
+
+"So long," replied the daring Pete, who risked death twice for a smoke.
+
+The hot afternoon dragged along and about three o'clock Buck held up an
+empty cartridge belt to the gaze of the curious Hopalong. That observant
+worthy nodded and threw a double handful of cartridges, one by one, to
+the patient and unrelenting Buck, who filled his gun and piled the few
+remaining ones up at his side. "Th' lives of mice and men gang aft all
+wrong," he remarked at random.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun's talkin' Shakespeare," marveled Hopalong. "Satiate
+any, Buck?" he asked as that worthy settled down to await his chance.
+
+"Two," he replied, "Shorty an' another. Plenty damn hot down here," he
+complained. A spurt of alkali dust stung his face, but the hand that
+made it never made another. "Three," he called. "How many, Hoppy?"
+
+ "One. That's four.  Wonder if th' others got any?"
+
+"Pete said Skinny got one," replied the intent Buck.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun, he never said nothin' about it, an' me a fillin' his
+ornery paws with smokin'." Hopalong was indignant.
+
+"Bet yu ten we don't git 'em afore dark," he announced.
+
+"Got yu. Go yu ten more I gits another," promptly responded Buck.
+
+"That's a shore cinch. Make her twenty."
+
+"She is."
+
+"Yu'll have to square it with Skinny, he shore wanted Shorty plum' bad,"
+Hopalong informed the unerring marksman.
+
+"Why didn't he say suthin' about it? Anyhow, Jimmy was my bunkie."
+
+Hopalong's cigarette disintegrated and the board at his left received
+a hole. He promptly disappeared and Buck laughed. He sat up in the loft
+and angrily spat the soaked paper out from between his lips.
+
+"All that trouble fer nothin', th' white-eyed coyote," he muttered.
+Then he crawled around to one side and fired at the center of his "C."
+Another shot hurtled at him and his left arm fell to his side. "That's
+funny--wonder where th' damn pirut is?" He looked out cautiously and saw
+a cloud of smoke over a knothole which was situated close up under the
+eaves of the barroom; and it was being agitated. Some one was blowing at
+it to make it disappear. He aimed very carefully at the knot and fired.
+He heard a sound between a curse and a squawk and was not molested any
+further from that point.
+
+"I knowed he'd git hurt," he explained to the bandage, torn from the
+edge of his kerchief, which he carefully bound around his last wound.
+
+Down in the arroyo Johnny was complaining.
+
+"This yer's a no good bunk," he plaintively remarked.
+
+"It shore ain't--but it's th' best we kin find," apologized Billy.
+
+"That's th' sixth that feller sent up there. He's a damn poor shot,"
+observed Johnny; "must be Shorty."
+
+"Shorty kin shoot plum' good--tain't him," contradicted Billy.
+
+"Yas--with a six-shooter. He's off'n his feed with a rifle," explained
+Johnny.
+
+"Yu wants to stay down from up there, yu ijit," warned Billy as the
+disgusted Johnny crawled up the bank. He slid down again with a welt on
+his neck.
+
+"That's somebody else now. He oughter a done better'n that," he said.
+
+Billy had fired as Johnny started to slide and he smoothed his aggrieved
+chum. "He could onct, yu means."
+
+"Did yu git him?" asked the anxious Johnny, rubbing his welt. "Plum'
+center," responded the business-like Billy. "Go up agin, mebby I kin git
+another," he suggested tentatively.
+
+"Mebby you kin go to blazes. I ain't no gallery," grinned the now
+exuberant owner of the welt.
+
+"Who's got the buffalo?" he inquired as the great gun roared.
+
+"Mus' be Cowan. He's shore all right. Sounds like a bloomin' cannon,"
+replied Billy. "Lemme alone with yore fool questions, I'm busy," he
+complained as his talkative partner started to ask another. "Go an' git
+me some water--I'm alkalied. An' git some .45's, mine's purty near gone."
+
+Johnny crawled down the arroyo and reappeared at Hopalong's barn.
+
+As he entered the door a handful of empty shells fell on his hat and
+dropped to the floor. He shook his head and remarked, "That mus' be that
+fool Hopalong."
+
+"Yore shore right. How's business?" inquired the festive Cassidy.
+
+"Purty fair. Billy's got one. How many's gone?"
+
+"Buck's got three, I got two and Skinny's got one. That's six, an' Billy
+is seven. They's five more," he replied.
+
+"How'd yu know?" queried Johnny as he filled his flask at the horse
+trough.
+
+"Because they's twelve cayuses behind the hotel. That's why."
+
+"They might git away on 'em," suggested the practical Johnny.
+
+"Can't. They's all cashed in."
+
+"Yu said that they's five left," ejaculated the puzzled water carrier.
+
+"Yah; yore a smart cuss, ain't yu?"
+
+Johnny grinned and then said, "Got any smokin'?" Hopalong looked
+grieved. "I ain't no store. Why don't yu git generous and buy some?"
+
+He partially filled Johnny's hand, and as he put the sadly depleted bag
+away he inquired, "Got any papers?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Got any matches?" he asked cynically.
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Kin yu smoke 'em?" he yelled, indignantly.
+
+"Shore nuff," placidly replied the unruffled Johnny. "Billy wants some
+.45-70's."
+
+Hopalong gasped. "Don't he want my gun, too?"
+
+"Nope. Got a better one. Hurry up, he'll git mad." Hopalong was a very
+methodical person. He was the only one of his crowd to carry a second
+cartridge strap. It hung over his right shoulder and rested on his
+left hip. His waist belt held thirty cartridges for the revolvers. He
+extracted twenty from that part of the shoulder strap hardest to get at,
+the back, by simply pulling it over his shoulder and plucking out the
+bullets as they came into reach.
+
+"That's all yu kin have. I'm Buck's ammernition jackass," he explained.
+"Bet yu ten we gits 'em afore dark"--he was hedging.
+
+"Any fool knows that. I'll take yu if yu bets th' other way," responded
+Johnny, grinning. He knew Hopalong's weak spot.
+
+"Yore on," promptly responded Hopalong, who would bet on anything.
+
+
+"Well, so long," said Johnny as he crawled away.
+
+"Hey, yu, Johnny!" called out Hopalong, "don't yu go an' tell anybody I
+got any pills left. I ain't no ars'nal."
+
+Johnny replied by elevating one foot and waving it. Then he disappeared.
+
+Behind the store, the most precarious position among the besiegers,
+Red Connors and Lanky Smith were ensconced and commanded a view of the
+entire length of the barroom. They could see the dark mass they knew to
+be the rear door and derived a great amount of amusement from the spots
+of light which were appearing in it.
+
+They watched the "C" (reversed to them) appear and be completed. When
+the wobbly "H" grew to completion they laughed heartily. Then the
+hardwood bar had been dragged across the field of vision and up to the
+front windows, and they could only see the indiscriminate holes which
+appeared in the upper panels at frequent intervals.
+
+Every time they fired they had to expose a part of themselves to a
+return shot, with the result that Lanky's forearm was seared its entire
+length. Red had been more fortunate and only had a bruised ear.
+
+They laboriously rolled several large rocks out in the open, pushing
+them beyond the shelter of the store with their rifles. When they had
+crawled behind them they each had another wound. From their new position
+they could see Hopalong sitting in his window. He promptly waved his
+sombrero and grinned.
+
+They were the most experienced fighters of all except Buck, and were
+saving their shots. When they did shoot they always had some portion of
+a man's body to aim at, and the damage they inflicted was considerable.
+They said nothing, being older than the rest and more taciturn, and
+they were not reckless. Although Hopalong's antics made them laugh, they
+grumbled at his recklessness and were not tempted to emulate him. It was
+noticeable, too, that they shoved their rifles out simultaneously and,
+although both were aiming, only one fired. Lanky's gun cracked so close
+to the enemy's that the whirr of the bullet over Red's head was merged
+in the crack of his partner's reply.
+
+When Hopalong saw the rocks roll out from behind the store he grew very
+curious. Then he saw a flash, followed instantly by another from the
+second rifle. He saw several of these follow shots and could sit in
+silence no longer. He waved his hat to attract attention and then
+shouted, "How many?" A shot was sent straight up in the air and he
+notified Buck that there were only four left.
+
+The fire of these four grew less rapid--they were saving their
+ammunition. A pot shot at Hopalong sent that gentleman's rifle hurtling
+to the ground. Another tore through his hat, removing a neat amount of
+skin and hair and giving him a lifelong part. He fell back inside
+and proceeded to shoot fast and straight with his revolvers, his head
+burning as though on fire. When he had vented the dangerous pressure
+of his anger he went below and tried to fish the rifle in with a long
+stick. It was obdurate, so he sent three more shots into the door, and,
+receiving no reply, ran out around the corner of his shelter and grasped
+the weapon. When half way back he sank to the ground. Before another
+shot could be fired at him with any judgment a ripping, spitting rifle
+was being frantically worked from the barn. The bullets tore the door
+into seams and gaps; the lowest panel, the one having the "H" in it,
+fell inward in chunks. Johnny had returned for another smoke.
+
+Hopalong, still grasping the rifle, rolled rapidly around the corner of
+the barn. He endeavored to stand, but could not. Johnny, hearing rapid
+and fluent swearing, came out.
+
+"Where'd they git yu?" he asked.
+
+ "In th' off leg.  Hurts like blazes.  Did yu git him?"
+
+"Nope. I jest come fer another cig; got any left?"
+
+"Up above. Yore gall is shore apallin'. Help me in, yu two-laigged
+jackass."
+
+"Shore. We'll shore pay our 'tentions to that door. She'll go purty
+soon--she's as full of holes as th' Bad Lan's," replied Johnny. "Git
+aholt an' hop along, Hopalong."
+
+He helped the swearing Hopalong inside, and then the lead they pumped
+into the wrecked door was scandalous. Another panel fell in and
+Hopalong's "C" was destroyed. A wide crack appeared in the one above it
+and grew rapidly. Its mate began to gape and finally both were driven
+in. The increase in the light caused by these openings allowed Red and
+Lanky to secure better aim and soon the fire of the defenders died out.
+
+Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and
+dashed for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening
+with a fusilade.
+
+As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly missed
+sudden death. As it was he staggered to the side, out of range, and
+dropped full length to the ground, flat on his face. Hopalong's rifle
+cracked incessantly, but to no avail. The man who had fired the shot was
+dead. Buck got him immediately after he had shot Johnny.
+
+Calling to Skinny and Red to cover him, Buck sprinted to where Johnny
+lay gasping. The bullet had struck his shoulder. Buck, Colt in hand,
+leaped through the door, but met with no resistance. He signaled to
+Hopalong, who yelled, "They's none left."
+
+The trees and rocks and gullies and buildings yielded men who soon
+crowded around the hotel. A young doctor, lately graduated, appeared. It
+was his first case, but he eased Johnny. Then he went over to Hopalong,
+who was now raving, and attended to him. The others were patched up
+as well as possible and the struggling young physician had his pockets
+crammed full of gold and silver coins.
+
+The scene of the wrecked barroom was indescribable. Holes, furrows,
+shattered glass and bottles, the liquor oozing down the walls of the
+shelves and running over the floor; the ruined furniture, a wrecked bar,
+seared and shattered and covered with blood; bodies as they had been
+piled in the corners; ropes, shells, hats; and liquor everywhere, over
+everything, met the gaze of those who had caused the chaos.
+
+Perry's Bend had failed to wipe out the score.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. The Vagrant Sioux
+
+
+Buckskin gradually readjusted itself to the conditions which had existed
+before its sudden leap into the limelight as a town which did things.
+The soiree at the Houston House had drifted into the past, and was
+now substantially established as an epoch in the history of the
+town. Exuberant joy gave way to dignity and deprecation, and to solid
+satisfaction; and the conversations across the bar brought forth
+parallels of the affair to be judged impartially--and the impartial
+judgment was, unanimously, that while there had undoubtedly been good
+fights before Perry's Bend had disturbed the local quiet, they were not
+quite up to the new standard of strenuous hospitality. Finally the heat
+blistered everything back into the old state, and the shadows continued
+to be in demand.
+
+One afternoon, a month after the reception of the honorable delegation
+from Perry's Bend, the town of Buckskin seemed desolated, and the earth
+and the buildings thereon were as huge furnaces radiating a visible
+heat, but when the blazing sun had begun to settle in the west it awoke
+with a clamor which might have been laid to the efforts of a zealous
+Satan. At this time it became the Mecca of two score or more joyous
+cowboys from the neighboring ranches, who livened things as those
+knights of the saddle could.
+
+In the scant but heavy shadow of Cowan's saloon sat a picturesque figure
+from whom came guttural, resonant rumblings which mingled in a spirit of
+loneliness with the fretful sighs of a flea-tormented dog. Both dog and
+master were vagrants, and they were tolerated because it was a matter of
+supreme indifference as to who came or how long they stayed as long as
+the ethics and the unwritten law of the cow country were inviolate. And
+the breaking of these caused no unnecessary anxiety, for justice was
+both speedy and sure.
+
+When the outcast Sioux and his yellow dog had drifted into town some few
+months before they had caused neither expostulation nor inquiry, as the
+cardinal virtue of that whole broad land was to ask a man no questions
+which might prove embarrassing to all concerned; judgment was of
+observation, not of history, and a man's past would reveal itself
+through actions. It mattered little whether he was an embezzler or the
+wild chip from some prosperous eastern block, as men came to the range
+to forget and to lose touch with the pampered East; and the range
+absorbed them as its own.
+
+
+
+A man was only a man as his skin contained the qualities necessary; and
+the illiterate who could ride and shoot and live to himself was far more
+esteemed than the educated who could not do those things. The more a man
+depends upon himself and the closer is his contact to a quick judgment
+the more laconic and even-poised he becomes. And the knowledge that he
+is himself a judge tends to create caution and judgment. He has no court
+to uphold his honor and to offer him protection, so he must be quick to
+protect himself and to maintain his own standing. His nature saved him,
+or it executed; and the range absolved him of all unpaid penalties of a
+careless past.
+
+He became a man born again and he took up his burden, the exactions of
+a new environment, and he lived as long as those exactions gave him the
+right to live. He must tolerate no restrictions of his natural rights,
+and he must not restrict; for the one would proclaim him a coward,
+the other a bully; and both received short shrifts in that land of the
+self-protected. The basic law of nature is the survival of the fittest.
+
+So, when the wanderers found their level in Buckskin they were not even
+asked by what name men knew them. Not caring to hear a name which might
+not harmonize with their idea of the fitness of things, the cowboys of
+the Bar-20 had, with a freedom born of excellent livers and fearless
+temperaments, bestowed names befitting their sense of humor and
+adaptability. The official title of the Sioux was By-and-by; the dog was
+known as Fleas. Never had names more clearly described the objects to be
+represented, for they were excellent examples of cowboy discernment and
+aptitude.
+
+In their eyes By-and-by was a man. He could feel and he could resent
+insults. They did not class him as one of themselves, because he did not
+have energy enough to demand and justify such classification. With them
+he had a right to enjoy his life as he saw fit so long as he did not
+trespass on or restrict the rights of others. They were not analytic
+in temperament, neither were they moralists. He was not a menace to
+society, because society had superb defenses. So they vaguely recognized
+his many poor qualities and clearly saw his few good ones. He could
+shoot, when permitted, with the best; no horse, however refractory, had
+ever been known to throw him; he was an adept at following the trails
+left by rustlers, and that was an asset; he became of value to the
+community; he was an economic factor.
+
+His ability to consume liquor with indifferent effects raised him
+another notch in their estimation. He was not always talking when some
+one else wished to--another count. There remained about him that stoical
+indifference to the petty; that observant nonchalance of the Indian;
+and there was a suggestion, faint, it was true, of a dignity common to
+chieftains. He was a log of grave deference which tossed on their sea of
+mischievous hilarity.
+
+He wore a pair of corduroy trousers, known to the care-free as "pants,"
+which were held together by numerous patches of what had once been
+brilliantly colored calico. A pair of suspenders, torn into two separate
+straps, made a belt for himself and a collar for his dog. The trousers
+had probably been secured during a fit of absent-mindedness on his part
+when their former owner had not been looking. Tucked at intervals in
+the top of the corduroys (the exceptions making convenient shelves for
+alkali dust) was what at one time had been a stiff-bosomed shirt. This
+was open down the front and back, the weight of the trousers on the belt
+holding it firmly on the square shoulders of the wearer, thus precluding
+the necessity of collar buttons. A pair of moccasins, beautifully worked
+with wampum, protected his feet from the onslaughts of cacti and the
+inquisitive and pugnacious sand flies; and lying across his lap was
+a repeating Winchester rifle, not dangerous because it was empty, a
+condition due to the wisdom of the citizens in forbidding any one to
+sell, trade or give to him those tubes of concentrated trouble, because
+he could get drunk.
+
+The two were contented and happy. They had no cares nor duties, and
+their pleasures were simple and easily secured, as they consisted of
+sleep and a proneness to avoid moving. Like the untrammeled coyote,
+their bed was where sleep overtook them; their food, what the night
+wrapped in a sense of security, or the generosity of the cowboys of the
+Bar-20. No tub-ridden Diogenes ever knew so little of responsibility or
+as much unadulterated content. There is a penalty even to civilization
+and ambition.
+
+When the sun had cast its shadows beyond By-and-by's feet the air became
+charged with noise; shouts, shots and the rolling thunder of madly
+pounding hoofs echoed flatly throughout the town. By-and-by yawned,
+stretched and leaned back, reveling in the semi-conscious ecstasy of the
+knowledge that he did not have to immediately get up. Fleas opened one
+eye and cocked an ear in inquiry, and then rolled over on his back,
+squirmed and sighed contentedly and long. The outfit of the Bar-20 had
+come to town.
+
+The noise came rapidly nearer and increased in volume as the riders
+turned the corner and drew rein suddenly, causing their mounts to slide
+on their haunches in ankle-deep dust.
+
+"Hullo, old Buck-with-th'-pants, how's yore liver?"
+
+"Come up an irrigate, old tank!"
+
+"Chase th' flea ranch an' trail along!"
+
+These were a few of the salutations discernible among the medley of
+playful yells, the safety valves of supercharged good-nature.
+
+"Skr-e-e!" yelled Hopalong Cassidy, letting off a fusillade of shots in
+the vicinity of Fleas, who rapidly retreated around the corner, where he
+wagged his tail in eager expectation. He was not disappointed, for a cow
+pony tore around in pursuit and Hopalong leaned over and scratched the
+yellow back, thumping it heartily, and, tossing a chunk of beef into the
+open jaws of the delighted dog, departed as he had come. The advent of
+the outfit meant a square meal, and the dog knew it.
+
+In Cowan's, lined up against the bar, the others were earnestly and
+assiduously endeavoring, with a promise of success, to get By-and-by
+drunk, which endeavors coincided perfectly with By-and-by's idea of the
+fitness of things. The fellowship and the liquor combined to thaw
+out his reserve and to loosen his tongue. After gazing with an air of
+injured surprise at the genial loosening of his knees he gravely handed
+his rifle with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, to the cowboy nearest
+him, and wrapped his arms around the recipient to insure his balance.
+The rifle was passed from hand to hand until it came to Buck Peters, who
+gravely presented it to its owner as a new gun.
+
+By-and-by threw out his stomach in an endeavor to keep his head in line
+with his heels, and grasping the weapon with both hands turned to Cowan,
+to whom he gave it.
+
+"Yu hab this un. Me got two. Me keep new un, mebby so." Then he loosened
+his belt and drank long and deep.
+
+A shadow darkened the doorway and Hopalong limped in. Spying By-and-by
+pushing the bottle into his mouth, while Red Connors propped him,
+he grinned and took out five silver dollars, which he jingled under
+By-and-by's eyes, causing that worthy to lay aside the liquor and
+erratically grab for the tantalizing fortune.
+
+"Not yet, sabe?" said Hopalong, changing the position of the money. "If
+yu wants to corral this here herd of simoleons yu has to ride a cayuse
+what Red bet me yu can't ride. Yu has got to grow on that there saddle
+and stayed growed for five whole minutes by Buck's ticker. I ain't
+a-goin' to tell yu he's any saw-horse, for yu'd know better, as yu
+reckons Red wouldn't bet on no losin' proposition if he knowed better,
+which same he don't. Yu straddles that four-laigged cloudburst an' yu
+gets these, sabe? I ain't seen th' cayuse yet that yu couldn't freeze
+to, an' I'm backin' my opinions with my moral support an' one month's
+pay."
+
+By-and-by's eyes began to glitter as the meaning of the words
+sifted through his befuddled mind. Ride a horse--five dollars--ride a
+five-dollars horse--horses ride dollars--then he straightened up and
+began to speak in an incoherent jumble of Sioux and bad English. He,
+the mighty rider of the Sioux; he, the bravest warrior and the greatest
+hunter; could he ride a horse for five dollars? Well, he rather thought
+he could. Grasping Red by the shoulder, he tacked for the door and
+narrowly missed hitting the bottom step first, landing, as it happened,
+in the soft dust with Red's leg around his neck. Somewhat sobered by the
+jar, he stood up and apologized to the crowd for Red getting in the way,
+declaring that Red was a "Heap good un," and that he didn't mean to do
+it.
+
+The outfit of the Bar-20 was, perhaps, the most famous of all from
+Canada to the Rio Grande. The foreman, Buck Peters, controlled a crowd
+of men (who had all the instincts of boys) that had shown no quarter
+to many rustlers, and who, while always carefree and easy-going (even
+fighting with great good humor and carelessness), had established the
+reputation of being the most reckless gang of daredevil gun-fighters
+that ever pounded leather. Crooked gaming houses, from El Paso
+to Cheyenne and from Phoenix to Leavenworth, unanimously and
+enthusiastically damned them from their boots to their sombreros, and
+the sheriffs and marshals of many localities had received from their
+hands most timely assistance--and some trouble. Wiry, indomitable,
+boyish and generous, they were splendid examples of virile manhood; and,
+surrounded as they were with great dangers and a unique civilization,
+they should not, in justice, be judged by opinions born of the
+commonplace.
+
+They were real cowboys, which means, public opinion to the contrary
+notwithstanding, that they were not lawless, nor drunken, shooting
+bullies who held life cheaply, as their kin has been unjustly pictured;
+but while these men were naturally peaceable they had to continually
+rub elbows with men who were not. Gamblers, criminals, bullies and the
+riffraff that fled from the protected East had drifted among them in
+great numbers, and it was this class that caused the trouble.
+
+The hardworking "cow-punchers" lived according to the law of the land,
+and they obeyed that greatest of all laws, that of self-preservation.
+Their fun was boisterous, but they paid for all the damage they
+inflicted; their work was one continual hardship, and the reaction of
+one extreme swings far toward the limit of its antithesis. Go back to
+the Apple if you would trace the beginning of self-preservation and the
+need.
+
+Buck Peters was a man of mild appearance, somewhat slow of speech and
+correspondingly quick of action, who never became flurried. His was the
+master hand that controlled, and his Colts enjoyed the reputation of
+never missing when a hit could have been expected with reason. Many
+floods, stampedes and blizzards had assailed his nerves, but he yet
+could pour a glass of liquor, held at arm's length, through a knothole
+in the floor without wetting the wood.
+
+Next in age came Lanky Smith, a small, undersized man of retiring
+disposition. Then came Skinny Thompson, six feet four on his bared
+soles, and true to his name; Hopalong described him as "th' shadow of a
+chalk mark." Pete Wilson, the slow-witted and very taciturn, and
+Billy Williams, the wavering pessimist, were of ordinary height and
+appearance. Red Connors, with hair that shamed the name, was the
+possessor of a temper which was as dry as tinder; his greatest weakness
+was his regard for the rifle as a means of preserving peace. Johnny
+Nelson was the protege, and he could do no wrong.
+
+The last, Hopalong Cassidy, was a combination of irresponsibility,
+humor, good nature, love of fighting, and nonchalance when face to face
+with danger. His most prominent attribute was that of always getting
+into trouble without any intention of so doing; in fact, he was much
+aggrieved and surprised when it came. It seemed as though when any "bad
+man" desired to add to his reputation he invariably selected Hopalong as
+the means (a fact due, perhaps, to the perversity of things in general).
+Bad men became scarce soon after Hopalong became a fixture in any
+locality. He had been crippled some years before in a successful
+attempt to prevent the assassination of a friend, Sheriff Harris, of
+Albuquerque, and he still possessed a limp.
+
+When Red had relieved his feelings and had dug the alkali out of his
+ears and eyes, he led the Sioux to the rear of the saloon, where a
+"pinto" was busily engaged in endeavoring to pitch a saddle from his
+back, employing the intervals in trying to see how much of the picket
+rope he could wrap around his legs.
+
+When By-and-by saw what he was expected to ride he felt somewhat
+relieved, for the pony did not appear to have more than the ordinary
+amount of cussedness. He waved his hand, and Johnny and Red bandaged the
+animal's eyes, which quieted him at once, and then they untangled
+the rope from around his legs and saw that the cinches were secure.
+Motioning to By-and-by that all was ready, they jerked the bandage off
+as the Indian settled himself in the saddle.
+
+Had By-and-by been really sober he would have taken the conceit out of
+that pony in chunks, and as it was he experienced no great difficulty in
+holding his seat; but in his addled state of mind he grasped the end of
+the cinch strap in such a way that when the pony jumped forward in
+its last desperate effort the buckle slipped and the cinch became
+unfastened; and By-and-by, still seated in the saddle, flew head
+foremost into the horse trough, where he spilled much water.
+
+As this happened Cowan turned the corner, and when he saw the wasted
+water (which he had to carry, bucketful at a time, from the wells a good
+quarter of a mile away) his anger blazed forth, and yelling, he ran
+for the drenched Sioux, who was just crawling out of his bath. When the
+unfortunate saw the irate man bearing down on him he sputtered in rage
+and fear, and, turning, he ran down the street, with Cowan thundering
+flatfootedly behind on a fat man's gallop, to the hysterical cheers of
+the delighted outfit, who saw in it nothing but a good joke.
+
+When Cowan returned from his hopeless task, blowing and wheezing, he
+heard sundry remarks, sotto voce, which were not calculated to increase
+his opinion of his physical condition.
+
+"Seems to me," remarked the irrepressible Hopalong, "that one of those
+cayuses has got th' heaves."
+
+"It shore sounds like it," acquiesced Johnny, red in the face from
+holding in his laughter, "an' say, somebody interferes."
+
+"All knock-kneed animals do, yu heathen," supplied Red.
+
+"Hey, yu, let up on that and have a drink on th' house," invited
+Cowan. "If I gits that durn war whoop I'll make yu think there's been
+a cyclone. I'll see how long that bum hangs around this here burg, I
+will."
+
+Red's eyes narrowed and his temper got the upper hand. "He ain't no bum
+when yu gives him rotgut at a quarter of a dollar a glass, is he? Any
+time that 'bum' gits razzled out for nothin' more'n this, why, I goes
+too; an' I ain't sayin' nothin' about goin' peaceable--like, neither."
+
+"I knowed somethin' like this 'ud happen," dolefully sang out Billy
+Williams, strong on the side of his pessimism.
+
+"For th' Lord's sake, have you broke out?" asked Red, disgustedly. "I'm
+goin' to hit the trail--but just keep this afore yore mind: if By-and-by
+gits in any accidents or ain't in sight when I comes to town again, this
+here climate'll be a heep sight hotter'n it is now. No hard feelings,
+sabe? It's just a casual bit of advice. Come on, fellows, let's
+amble--I'm hungry."
+
+As they raced across the plain toward the ranch a pair of beady eyes,
+snapping with a drunken rage, watched them from an arroyo; and when
+Cowan entered the saloon the next morning he could not find By-and-by's
+rifle, which he had placed behind the bar. He also missed a handful of
+cartridges from the box near the cash drawer; and had he looked closely
+at his bottled whisky he would have noticed a loss there. A horse was
+missing from a Mexican's corral and there were rumors that several
+Indians had been seen far out on the plain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. The Law of the Range
+
+
+"Phew! I'm shore hungry," said Hopalong, as he and Red dismounted at the
+ranch the next morning for breakfast. "Wonder what's good for it?"
+
+"They's three things that's good for famine," said Red, leading the way
+to the bunk house. "Yu can pull in yore belt, yu can drink, an yu can
+eat. Yore getting as bad as Johnny--but he's young yet."
+
+The others met their entrance with a volley of good-humored banter, some
+of which was so personal and evoked such responses that it sounded like
+the preliminary skirmish to a fight. But under all was that soft accent,
+that drawl of humorous appreciation and eyes twinkling in suppressed
+merriment. Here they were thoroughly at home and the spirit of
+comradeship manifested itself in many subtle ways; the wit became more
+daring and sharp, Billy lost some of his pessimism, and the alertness
+disappeared from their manner.
+
+Skinny left off romping with Red and yawned. "I wish that cook'ud wake
+up an' git breakfast. He's the cussedest hombre I ever saw--he kin go to
+sleep standin' up an' not know it. Johnny's th' boy that worries him--th'
+kid comes in an' whoops things up till he's gorged himself."
+
+"Johnny's got th' most appallin' feel for grub of anybody I knows,"
+added Red. "I wonder what's keepin' him--he's usually hangin' around here
+bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got th'
+fire goin'."
+
+"Mebby he rustled some grub out with him--I saw him tip-toein' out of th'
+gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs," remarked Hopalong,
+glancing at Billy.
+
+Billy groaned and made for the gallery. Emerging half a minute later he
+blurted out his tale of woe: "Every time I blows myself an' don't drink
+it all in town some slab-sided maverick freezes to it. It's gone," he
+added, dismally.
+
+"Too bad, Billy--but what is it?" asked Skinny.
+
+"What is it? Wha'd yu think it was, you emaciated match? Jewelry?
+Cayuses? It's whisky--two simoleons' worth. Some-thin's allus wrong. This
+here whole yearth's wrong, just like that cross-eyed sky pilot said over
+to--"
+
+"Will yu let up?" Yelled Red, throwing a sombrero at the grumbling
+unfortunate. "Yu ask Buck where yore tanglefoot is.
+
+"I'd shore look nice askin' th' boss if he'd rustled my whisky, wouldn't
+I? An' would yu mind throwin' somebody else's hat? I paid twenty wheels
+for that eight years ago, and I don't want it mussed none."
+
+"Gee, yore easy! Why, Ah Sing, over at Albuquerque, gives them away
+every time yu gits yore shirt washed," gravely interposed Hopalong as he
+went out to cuss the cook.
+
+"Well, what'd yu think of that?" Exclaimed Billy in an injured tone.
+
+"Oh, yu needn't be hikin' for Albuquerque--WasheeWashee'ud charge yu
+double for washin' yore shirt. Yu ought to fall in di' river some
+day--then he might talk business," called Hopalong over his shoulder
+as he heaved an old boot into the gallery. "Hey, yu hibernatin' son of
+morphine, if yu don't git them flapjacks in here pretty sudden-like
+I'll scatter yu all over di' landscape, sabe? Yu just wait till Johnny
+comes!"
+
+"Wonder where th' kid is?" asked Lanky, rolling a cigarette. "Off
+somewhere lookin' at di' sun through di' bottom of my bottle," grumbled
+Billy.
+
+Hopalong started to go out, but halted on the sill and looked steadily
+off toward the northwest. "That's funny. Hey, fellows, here comes Buck
+an' Johnny ridin' double--on a walk, too!" he exclaimed. "Wonder what
+th'--thunder! Red, Buck's carryun' him! Somethin's busted!" he yelled, as
+he dashed for his pony and made for the newcomers.
+
+"I told yu he was hittin' my bottle," pertly remarked Billy, as he
+followed the rest outside.
+
+"Did yu ever see Johnny drunk? Did yu ever see him drink more'n two
+glasses? Shut yore wailin' face--they's somethin' worse'n that in this
+here," said Red, his temper rising. "Hopalong an' me took yore cheap
+liquor--it's under Pete's bunk," he added.
+
+The trio approached on a walk and Johnny, delirious and covered with
+blood, was carried into the bunk house. Buck waited until all had
+assembled again and then, his face dark with anger, spoke sharply and
+without the usual drawl: "Skragged from behind, blast them! Get some
+grub an' water an' be quick. We'll see who the gent with th' grudge is."
+
+At this point the expostulations of the indignant cook, who, not
+understanding the cause, regarded the invasion of china shop bulls as
+sacrilegious, came to his ears. Striding quickly to the door, he grabbed
+the pan the Mexican was about to throw and, turning the now frightened
+man around, thundered, "Keep quiet an' get 'em some grub."
+
+When rifles and ammunition had been secured they mounted and followed
+him at a hard gallop along the back trail. No words were spoken, for
+none were necessary. All knew that they would not return until they
+had found the man for whom they were looking, even if the chase led
+to Canada. They did not ask Buck for any of the particulars, for the
+foreman was not in the humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong, whose
+curiosity was always on edge, recognized only two facts and cared for
+nothing else: Johnny had been ambushed and they were going to get the
+one who was responsible.
+
+They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail
+would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who or what
+he was--there was only one course to take with an assassin. So they said
+nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the seven ponies
+breast to breast in a close arc.
+
+Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap. As they
+approached it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body had
+lain there huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked alkali.
+The trail they followed was now single, Buck having ridden along the
+bank of the arroyo when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had orders. This
+trail was very irregular, as if the horse had wandered at will. Suddenly
+they came upon five tracks, all pointing one way, and four of these
+turned abruptly and disappeared in the northwest. Half a mile beyond the
+point of separation was a chaparral, which was an important factor to
+them.
+
+Each man knew just what had taken place as if he had been an eyewitness,
+for the trail was plain. The assassins had waited in the chaparral for
+Johnny to pass, probably having seen him riding that way. When he had
+passed and his back had been turned to them they had fired and wounded
+him severely at the first volley, for Johnny was of the stuff that
+fights back and his revolvers had showed full chambers and clean barrels
+when Red had examined them in the bunk house. Then they had given chase
+for a short distance and, from some inexplicable motive, probably fear,
+they had turned and ridden off without knowing how bad he was hit. It
+was this trail that led to the northwest, and it was this trail that
+they followed without pausing.
+
+When they had covered fifty miles they sighted the Cross Bar O ranch
+where they hoped to secure fresh mounts. As they rode up to the ranch
+house the owner, Bud Wallace, came around the corner and saw them.
+
+ "Hullo, boys! What deviltry are yu up to now?" he asked.  Buck
+leaped from his mount, followed by the others, and shoved his sombrero
+back on his head as he started to remove the saddle.
+
+"We're trailin' a bunch of murderers. They ambushed Johnny an' blame
+near killed him. I stopped here to get fresh cayuses."
+
+"Yu did right!" replied Wallace heartily. Then raising his voice he
+shouted to some of his men who were near the corral to bring up the
+seven best horses they could rope. Then he told the cook to bring out
+plenty of food and drink.
+
+"I got four punchers what ain't doin' nothin' but eat," he suggested.
+
+"Much obliged, Wallace, but there's only four of 'em, an' we'd rather
+get 'em ourselves--Johnny'ud feel better," replied Buck, throwing his
+saddle on the horse that was led up to him.
+
+"How's yore cartridges--got plenty?" Persisted Wallace.
+
+"Two hundred apiece," responded Buck, springing into his saddle and
+riding off. "So long," he called.
+
+"So long, an' plug blazes out of them," shouted Wallace as the dust
+swept over him.
+
+At five in the afternoon they forded the Black River at a point where it
+crossed the state line from New Mexico, and at dusk camped at the base
+of the Guadalupe Mountains. At daybreak they took up the chase, grim and
+merciless, and shortly afterward they passed the smoldering remains of
+a camp fire, showing that the pursued had been in a great hurry, for it
+should have been put out and masked. At noon they left the mountains to
+the rear and sighted the Barred Horeshoe, which they approached.
+
+The owner of the ranch saw them coming, and from their appearance
+surmised that something was wrong.
+
+"What is it?" He shouted. "Rustlers?"
+
+"Nope. Murderers. I wants to swap cayuses quick," answered Buck.
+
+"There they are. Th' boys just brought 'em in. Anything else I can let
+yu have?"
+
+"Nope," shouted Buck as they galloped off.
+
+"Somebody's goin' to get plugged full of holes," murmured the ranch
+owner as he watched them kicking up the dust in huge clouds.
+
+After they had forded a tributary of the Rio Penasco near the Sacramento
+Mountains and had surmounted the opposite bank, Hopalong spurred his
+horse to the top of a hummock and swept the plain with Pete's field
+glasses, which he had borrowed for the occasion, and returned to the
+rest, who had kept on without slacking the pace. As he took up his
+former position he grunted, "War-whoops," and unslung his rifle, an
+example followed by the others.
+
+The ponies were now running at top speed, and as they shot over a rise
+their riders saw their quarry a mile and a half in advance. One of the
+Indians looked back and discharged his rifle in defiance, and it now
+became a race worthy of the name--Death fled from Death. The fresher
+mounts of the cowboys steadily cut down the distance and, as the rifles
+of the pursuers began to speak, the hard-pressed Indians made for the
+smaller of two knolls, the plain leading to the larger one being too
+heavily strewn with bowlders to permit speed.
+
+As the fugitives settled down behind the rocks which fringed the edge of
+their elevation a shot from one of them disabled Billy's arm, but had no
+other effect than to increase the score to be settled. The pursuers
+rode behind a rise and dismounted, from where, leaving their mounts
+protected, they scattered out to surround the knoll.
+
+Hopalong, true to his curiosity, finally turned up on the highest point
+of the other knoll, a spur of the range in the west, for he always
+wanted to see all he could. Skinny, due to his fighting instinct,
+settled one hundred yards to the north and on the same spur. Buck lay
+hidden behind an enormous bowlder eight hundred yards to the northeast
+of Skinny, and the same distance southeast of Buck was Red Connors, who
+was crawling up the bed of an arroyo. Billy, nursing his arm, lay in
+front of the horses, and Pete, from his position between Billy and
+Hopalong, was crawling from rock to rock in an endeavor to get near
+enough to use his Colts, his favorite and most effective weapons.
+Intermittent puffs of smoke arising from a point between Skinny and Buck
+showed where Lanky Smith was improving each shining hour.
+
+There had been no directions given, each man choosing his own position,
+yet each was of strategic worth. Billy protected the horses, Hopalong
+and Skinny swept the knoll with a plunging fire, and Lanky and Buck lay
+in the course the besieged would most likely take if they tried a dash.
+Off to the east Red barred them from creeping down the arroyo, and from
+where Pete was he could creep up to within sixty yards if he chose the
+right rocks. The ranges varied from four hundred yards for Buck to sixty
+for Pete, and the others averaged close to three hundred, which allowed
+very good shooting on both sides.
+
+Hopalong and Skinny gradually moved nearer to each other for
+companionship, and as the former raised his head to see what the others
+were doing he received a graze on the ear.
+
+"Wow!" he yelled, rubbing the tingling member.
+
+Two puffs of smoke floated up from the knoll, and Skinny swore.
+
+"Where'd he get yu, Fat?" asked Hopalong.
+
+"G'wan, don't get funny, son," replied Skinny.
+
+
+Jets of smoke arose from the north and east, where Buck and Red were
+stationed, and Pete was half way to the knoll. So far he hadn't been hit
+as he dodged in and out, and, emboldened by his luck, he made a run of
+five yards and his sombrero was shot from his head. Another dash and his
+empty holster was ripped from its support. As he crouched behind a rock
+he heard a yell from Hopalong, and saw that interested individual waving
+his sombrero to cheer him on. An angry pang! from the knoll caused that
+enthusiastic rooter to drop for safety.
+
+"Locoed son-of-a-gun," complained Pete. "He'll shore git potted." Then
+he glanced at Billy, who was the center of several successive spurts of
+dust.
+
+"How's business, Billy?" he called pleasantly.
+
+"Oh, they'll git me yet," responded the pessimist. "Yu needn't git
+anxious. If that off buck wasn't so green he'd 'a' had me long ago."
+
+"Ya-hoo! Pete! Oh, Pete!" called Hopalong, sticking his head out at one
+side and grinning as the wondering object of his hail craned his neck to
+see what the matter was.
+
+"Huh?" grunted Pete, and then remembering the distance he shouted,
+"What's th' matter?"
+
+"Got any cigarettes?" asked Hopalong.
+
+"Yu poor sheep!" said Pete, and turning back to work he drove a .45 into
+a yellow moccasin.
+
+Hopalong began to itch and he saw that he was near an ant hill. Then the
+cactus at his right boomed out mournfully and a hole appeared in it. He
+fired at the smoke and a yell informed him that he had made a hit.
+"Go 'way!" he complained as a green fly buzzed past his nose. Then he
+scratched each leg with the foot of the other and squirmed incessantly,
+kicking out with both feet at once. A warning metallic whir-r-r! on his
+left caused to yank them in again, and turning his head quickly he the
+pleasure of lopping off the head of a rattlesnake with his Colt's.
+
+"Glad yu wasn't a copperhead," he exclaimed. "Somebody had ought 'a'
+shot that fool Noah. Blast the ants!" He drowned with a jet of tobacco
+juice a Gila monster that was staring at him and took a savage delight
+in its frantic efforts to bury itself.
+
+Soon he heard Skinny swear and he sung out: "What's the matter, Skinny?
+Git plugged again?"
+
+"Naw, bugs--ain't they mean?" Plaintively asked his friend. "They ain't
+none over here. What kind of bugs?"
+
+"Sufferin' Moses, I ain't no bugologist! All kinds!"
+
+But Hopalong got it at last. He had found tobacco and rolled a
+cigarette, and in reaching for a match exposed his shoulder to a shot
+that broke his collar bone. Skinny's rifle cracked in reply and the
+offending brave rolled out from behind a rock. From the fuss emanating
+from Hopalong's direction Skinny knew that his neighbor had been hit.
+
+"Don't yu care, Hoppy. I got th' cuss," he said consolingly. "Where'd he
+git yu?" he asked.
+
+"In di' heart, yu pie-faced nuisance. Come over here an' corral this
+cussed bandage an' gimme some water," snapped the injured man.
+
+Skinny wormed his way through the thorny chaparral and bound up the
+shoulder. "Anything else?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Shoot that bunch of warts an' blow that tobacco-eyed Gila to
+Cheyenne. This here's worse than the time we cleaned out th' C 80
+outfit!" Then he kicked the dead toad and swore at the sun.
+
+"Close yore yap; yore worse than a kid! Anybody'd think yu never got
+plugged afore," said Skinny indignantly.
+
+"I can cuss all I wants," replied Hopalong, proving his assertion as he
+grabbed his gun and fired at the dead Indian. A bullet whined above
+his head and Skinny fired at the smoke. He peeped out and saw that his
+friends were getting nearer to the knoll.
+
+"They's closin' in now. We'll soon be gittin' home," he reported.
+
+Hopalong looked out in time to see Buck make a dash for a bowlder that
+lay ten yards in front of him, which he reached in safety. Lanky also
+ran in and Pete added five more yards to his advance. Buck made
+another dash, but leaped into the air, and, coming down as if from an
+intentional high jump, staggered and stumbled for a few paces and then
+fell flat, rolling over and over toward the shelter of a split rock,
+where he lay quiet. A leering red face peered over the rocks on the
+knoll, but the whoop of exultation was cut short, for Red's rifle
+cracked and the warrior rolled down the steep bank, where another shot
+from the same gun settled him beyond question.
+
+Hopalong choked and, turning his face away, angrily dashed his knuckles
+into his eyes. "Blast 'em! Blast 'em! They've got Buck! They've got
+Buck, blast 'em! They've got Buck, Skinny! Good old Buck! They've got
+him! Jimmy's gone, Johnny's plugged, and now Buck's gone! Come on!"
+he sobbed in a frenzy of vengeance. "Come on, Skinny! We'll tear their
+cussed hides into a deeper red than they are now! Oh, blast it, I can't
+see--where's my gun?" He groped for the rifle and fought Skinny when the
+latter, red-eyed but cool, endeavored to restrain him. "Lemme go, curse
+yu! Don't yu know they got Buck? Lemme go!"
+
+"Down! Red's got di' skunk. Yu can't do nothin'--they'd drop yu afore
+yu took five steps. Red's got him, I tell yu! Do yu want me to lick yu?
+We'll pay 'em back with interest if yu'll keep yore head!" exclaimed
+Skinny, throwing the crazed man heavily.
+
+Musical tones, rising and falling in weird octaves, whining pityingly,
+diabolically, sobbing in a fascinating monotone and slobbering in
+ragged chords, calling as they swept over the plain, always calling and
+exhorting, they mingled in barbaric discord with the defiant barks of
+the six-shooters and the inquiring cracks of the Winchesters. High up in
+the air several specks sailed and drifted, more coming up rapidly from
+all directions. Buzzards know well where food can be found.
+
+As Hopalong leaned back against a rock he was hit in the thigh by a
+ricochet that tore its way out, whirling like a circular saw, a span
+above where it entered. The wound was very nasty, being ripped twice
+the size made by an ordinary shot, and it bled profusely. Skinny crawled
+over and attended to it, making a tourniquet of his neckerchief and
+clumsily bandaging it with a strip torn from his shirt.
+
+"Yore shore lucky, yu are," he grumbled as he made his way back to his
+post, where he vented his rancor by emptying the semi-depleted magazine
+of his Winchester at the knoll.
+
+Hopalong began to sing and shout and he talked of Jimmy and his
+childhood, interspersing the broken narrative with choice selections
+as sung in the music halls of Leavenworth and Abilene. He wound up by
+yelling and struggling, and Skinny had his hands full in holding him.
+
+"Hopalong! Cassidy! Come out of that! Keep quiet--yu'll shore git plugged
+if yu don't stop that plungin'. For gosh sake, did yu hear that?" A
+bullet viciously hissed between them and flattened out on a near-by
+rock; others cut their way through the chaparral to the sound of falling
+twigs, and Skinny threw himself on the struggling man and strapped
+Hopalong with his belt to the base of a honey mesquite that grew at his
+side.
+
+"Hold still, now, and let that bandage alone. Yu allus goes off di'
+range when yu gets plugged," he complained. He cut down a cactus and
+poured the sap over the wounded man's face, causing him to gurgle and
+look around. His eyes had a sane look now and Skinny slid off his chest.
+
+"Git that--belt loose; I ain't--no cow," brokenly blazed out the picketed
+Hopalong. Skinny did so, handed the irate man his Colts and returned to
+his own post, from where he fired twice, reporting the shots.
+
+"I'm tryin' to get him on th' glance' first one went high an' th' other
+fell flat," he explained.
+
+Hopalong listened eagerly, for this was shooting that he could
+appreciate. "Lemme see," he commanded. Skinny dragged him over to a
+crack and settled down for another try.
+
+"Where is he, Skinny?" Asked Hopalong.
+
+"Behind that second big one. No, over on this here side. See that smooth
+granite? If I can get her there on th' right spot he'll shore know it."
+He aimed carefully and fired.
+
+Through Pete's glasses Hopalong saw a leaden splotch appear on the rock
+and he notified the marksman that he was shooting high. "Put her on that
+bump closer down," he suggested. Skinny did so and another yell reached
+their ears.
+
+"That's a dandy. Yore shore all right, yu old cuss," complimented
+Hopalong, elated at the success of the experiment.
+
+Skinny fired again and a brown arm flopped out into sight. Another shot
+struck it and it jerked as though it were lifeless.
+
+"He's cashed. See how she jumped? Like a rope," remarked Skinny with a
+grin. The arm lay quiet.
+
+Pete had gained his last cover and was all eyes and Colts. Lanky was
+also very close in and was intently watching one particular rock.
+Several shots echoed from the far side of the knoll and they knew that
+Red was all right. Billy was covering a cluster of rocks that protruded
+above the others and, as they looked, his rifle rang out and the last
+defender leaped down and disappeared in the chaparral. He wore yellow
+trousers and an old boiled shirt.
+
+"By an'-by, by all that's bad!" yelled Hopalong. "Th' measly coyote! An'
+me a-fillin' his ornery hide with liquor. Well, they'll have to find
+him all over again now," he complained, astounded by the revelation. He
+fired into the chaparral to express his pugnacious disgust and scared
+out a huge tarantula, which alighted on Skinny's chaps, crawling rapidly
+toward the unconscious man's neck. Hopalong's face hardened and he
+slowly covered the insect and fired, driving it into the sand, torn
+and lifeless. The bullet touched the leathern garment and Skinny
+remonstrated, knowing that Hopalong was in no condition for fancy
+shooting.
+
+"Huh!" exclaimed Hopalong. "That was a tarantula what I plugged. He
+was headin' for yore neck," he explained, watching the chaparral with
+apprehension.
+
+"Go 'way, was it? Bully for yu!" exclaimed Skinny, tarantulas being
+placed at par with rattlesnakes, and he considered that he had been
+saved from a horrible death. "Thought yu said they wasn't no bugs over
+here," he added in an aggrieved tone.
+
+"They wasn't none. Yu brought 'em. I only had th' main show--Gilas,
+rattlers an' toads," he replied, and then added, "Ain't it cussed hot up
+here?"
+
+"She is. Yu won't have no cinch ridin' home with that leg. Yu better
+take my cayuse--he's busted more'n yourn," responded Skinny.
+
+"Yore cayuse is at th' Cross Bar O, yu wall-eyed pirute."
+
+"Shore 'nuff. Funny how a feller forgets sometimes. Lemme alone now,
+they's goin' to git By-an'-by. Pete an' Lanky has just went in after
+him."
+
+That was what had occurred. The two impatient punchers, had grown tired
+of waiting, and risked what might easily have been death in order to
+hasten matters. The others kept up a rapid fire, directed at the far end
+of the chaparral on the knoll, in order to mask the movements of their
+venturesome friends, intending also to drive By-and-by toward them so
+that he would be the one to get picked off as he advanced.
+
+Several shots rang out in quick succession on the knoll and the
+chaparral became agitated. Several more shots sounded from the depth
+of the thicket and a mounted Indian dashed out of the northern edge and
+headed in Buck's direction. His course would take him close to Buck,
+whom he had seen fall, and would let him escape at a point midway
+between Red and Skinny, as Lanky was on the knoll and the range was very
+far to allow effective shooting by these two.
+
+Red saw him leave the chaparral and in his haste to reload jammed the
+cartridge, and By-and-by swept on toward temporary safety, with Red
+dancing in a paroxysm of rage, swelling his vocabulary with words he had
+forgotten existed.
+
+By-and-by, rising to his full height in the saddle, turned and wiggled
+his fingers at the frenzied Red and made several other signs that the
+cowboy was in the humor to appreciate to the fullest extent. Then he
+turned and shook his rifle at the marksmen on the larger knoll, whose
+best shots kicked up the dust fully fifty yards too short. The pony was
+sweeping toward the reservation and friends only fifteen miles away,
+and By-and-by knew that once among the mountains he would be on equal
+footing at least with his enemies.
+
+As he passed the rock behind which Buck lay sprawled on his face he
+uttered a piercing whoop of triumph and leaned forward on his pony's
+neck. Twenty leaps farther and the spiteful crack of a rifle echoed from
+where the foreman was painfully supporting himself on his elbows. The
+pony swept on in a spurt of nerve-racking speed, but alone. By-and-by
+shrieked again and crashed heavily to the ground, where he rolled
+inertly and then lay still. Men like Buck are dangerous until their
+hearts have ceased to beat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. Trials of the Convalescent
+
+
+The days at the ranch passed in irritating idleness for those who
+had obstructed the flight of hostile lead, and worse than any of the
+patients was Hopalong, who fretted and fumed at his helplessness, which
+retarded his recovery. But at last the day came when he was fit for
+the saddle again, and he gave notice of his joy in whoops and forthwith
+announced that he was entitled to a holiday; and Buck had not the heart
+to refuse him.
+
+So he started forth in his quest of peace and pleasure, but instead had
+found only trouble and had been forced to leave his card at almost every
+place he had visited.
+
+There was that affair in Red Hot Gulch, Colorado, where, under pressure,
+he had invested sundry pieces of lead in the persons of several
+obstreperous citizens and then had paced the zealous and excitable
+sheriff to the state line.
+
+He next was noticed in Cheyenne, where his deformity was vividly
+dwelt upon, to the extent of six words, by one Tarantula Charley, the
+aforesaid Charley not being able to proceed to greater length on account
+of heart failure. As Charley had been a ubiquitous nuisance, those
+present availed themselves of the opportunity offered by Hopalong to
+indulge in a free drink.
+
+Laramie was his next stopping place, and shortly after his arrival he
+was requested to sing and dance by a local terror, who informed all
+present that he was the only seventeen-buttoned rattlesnake in the cow
+country. Hopalong, hurt and indignant at being treated like a common
+tenderfoot, promptly knocked the terror down. After he had irrigated
+several square feet of parched throats belonging to the audience he
+again took up his journey and spent a day at Denver, where he managed to
+avoid any further trouble.
+
+Santa Fe loomed up before him several days later and he entered it
+shortly before noon. At this time the old Spanish city was a bundle of
+high-strung nerves, and certain parts of it were calculated to furnish
+any and all kinds of excitement except revival meetings and church
+fairs. Hopalong straddled a lively nerve before he had been in the city
+an hour. Two local bad men, Slim Travennes and Tex Ewalt, desiring to
+establish the fact that they were roaring prairie fires, attempted to
+consume the placid and innocent stranger as he limped across the plaza
+in search of a game of draw poker at the Black Hills Emporium, with the
+result that they needed repairs, to the chagrin and disgust of their
+immediate acquaintances, who endeavored to drown their mortification
+and sorrow in rapid but somewhat wild gun play, and soon remembered that
+they had pressing engagements elsewhere.
+
+Hopalong reloaded his guns and proceeded to the Emporium, where he found
+a game all prepared for him in every sense of the word. On the third
+deal he objected to the way in which the dealer manipulated the cards,
+and when the smoke cleared away he was the only occupant of the room,
+except a dog belonging to the bartender that had intercepted a stray
+bullet.
+
+Hunting up the owner of the hound, he apologized for being the indirect
+cause of the animal's death, deposited a sum of Mexican dollars in
+that gentleman's palm and went on his way to Alameda, which he entered
+shortly after dark, and where an insult, simmering in its uncalled-for
+venom, met him as he limped across the floor of the local dispensary on
+his way to the bar. There was no time for verbal argument and precedent
+had established the manner of his reply, and his repartee was as quick
+as light and most effective. Having resented the epithets he gave his
+attention to the occupants of the room.
+
+Smoke drifted over the table in an agitated cloud and dribbled lazily
+upward from the muzzle of his six-shooter, while he looked searchingly
+at those around him. Strained and eager faces peered at his opponent,
+who was sliding slowly forward in his chair, and for the length of a
+minute no sound but the guarded breathing of the onlookers could be
+heard. This was broken by a nervous cough from the rear of the room, and
+the faces assumed their ordinary nonchalant expressions, their rugged
+lines heavily shadowed in the light of the flickering oil lamps, while
+the shuffling of cards and the clink of silver became audible. Hopalong
+Cassidy had objected to insulting remarks about his affliction.
+
+Hopalong was very sensitive about his crippled leg and was always
+prompt to resent any scorn or curiosity directed at it, especially
+when emanating from strangers. A young man of twenty-three years, when
+surrounded by nearly perfect specimens of physical manhood, is apt to
+be painfully self-conscious of any such defect, and it reacted on his
+nature at times, even though he was well-known for his happy-go-lucky
+disposition and playfulness. He consoled himself with the knowledge
+that what he lost in symmetry was more than balanced by the celerity
+and certainty of his gun hand, which was right or left, or both, as the
+occasion demanded.
+
+Several hours later, as his luck was vacillating, he felt a heavy hand
+on his shoulder, and was overjoyed at seeing Buck and Red, the latter
+grinning as only Red could grin, and he withdrew from the game to enjoy
+his good fortune.
+
+While Hopalong had been wandering over the country the two friends had
+been hunting for him and had traced him successfully, that being due
+to the trail he had blazed with his six-shooters. This they had
+accomplished without harm to themselves, as those of whom they inquired
+thought that they must want Hopalong "bad," and cheerfully gave the
+information required.
+
+They had started out more for the purpose of accompanying him for
+pleasure, but that had changed to an urgent necessity in the following
+manner:
+
+While on the way from Denver to Santa Fe they had met Pete Willis of the
+Three Triangle, a ranch that adjoined their own, and they paused to pass
+the compliments of the season.
+
+"Purty far from th' grub wagon, Pie," remarked Buck.
+
+"Oh, I'm only goin' to Denver," responded Pie.
+
+"Purty hot," suggested Red.
+
+"She shore is. Seen anybody yu knows?" Pie asked.
+
+"One or two--Billy of th' Star Crescent an' Panhandle Lukins," answered
+Buck.
+
+"That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year. I'll hunt him up.
+I heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his brothers
+are lookin' for trouble," offered Pie.
+
+"Yah! They ain't lookin' for no trouble--they just goes around
+blowin' off. Trouble? Why, they don't know what she is," remarked Red
+contemptuously.
+
+"Well, they's been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' if that
+ain't trouble I don't know what is," said Pie.
+
+"It shore is, an' hard to dodge," acquiesced Buck.
+
+"Well, I has to amble. Is Panhandle in Denver? Yes? I calculates as
+how me an' him'll buck th' tiger for a whirl--he's shore lucky. Well, so
+long," said Pie as he moved on.
+
+"So long," responded the two.
+
+"Hey, wait a minute," yelled Pie after he had ridden a hundred yards.
+"If yu sees Hopalong yu might tell him that th' Joneses are goin' to
+hunt him up when they gits to Albuquerque. They's shore sore on him.
+'Tain't none of my funeral, only they ain't always a-carin' how they
+goes after a feller. So long," and soon he was a cloud of dust on the
+horizon.
+
+"Trouble!" snorted Red; "well, between dodgin' Harris an' huntin'
+Hopalong I reckons they'll shore find her." Then to himself he murmured,
+"Funny how everythin' comes his way."
+
+"That's gospel shore enough, but, as Pie said, they ain't a whole lot
+particular as how they deal th' cards. We better get a move on an' find
+that ornery little cuss," replied Buck.
+
+"O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy. His gun's too lively
+for me to do any worryin'," asserted Red.
+
+"They'll get lynched some time, shore," declared Buck.
+
+"Not if they find Hoppy," grimly replied Red.
+
+They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their
+throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where
+they found Hopalong in the manner narrated.
+
+After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque,
+twelve miles to the south. At ten o'clock they dismounted before the
+Nugget and Rope, an unpainted wooden building supposed to be a
+clever combination of barroom, dance and gambling hall and hotel. The
+cleverness lay in the man who could find the hotel part.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. The Open Door
+
+
+The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being
+troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose
+of inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for
+obvious reasons. Probably not one man in ten was fortunate enough to
+have no one "looking for him," and the lighted interior assured good
+hunting to any one in the dark street. He was continually opening the
+door, which every newcomer promptly and forcibly slammed shut. When he
+saw men walk across the room for the express purpose of slamming it he
+began to cherish the idea that there was a conspiracy on foot to anger
+him and thus force him to bring about his own death.
+
+After the door had been slammed three times in one evening by one man,
+the last slam being so forcible as to shake two bottles from the shelf
+and to crack the door itself, he became positive that his suspicions
+were correct, and so was very careful to smile and take it as a joke.
+Finally, wearied by his vain efforts to keep it open and fearing for the
+door, he hit upon a scheme, the brilliancy of which inflated his chest
+and gave him the appearance of a prize-winning bantam. When his patrons
+strolled in that night there was no door to slam, as it lay behind the
+bar.
+
+When Buck and Red entered, closely followed by Hopalong, they elbowed
+their way to the rear of the room, where they could see before being
+seen. As yet they had said nothing to Hopalong about Pie's warning and
+were debating in their minds whether they should do so or not, when
+Hopalong interrupted their thoughts by laughing. They looked up and he
+nodded toward the front, where they saw that anxious eyes from all parts
+of the room were focused on the open door. Then they noticed that it had
+been removed.
+
+The air of semi-hostile, semi-anxious inquiry of the patrons and the
+smile of satisfaction covering the face of Baum appealed to them as the
+most ludicrous sight their eyes had seen for months, and they leaned
+back and roared with laughter, thus calling forth sundry looks of
+disapproval from the innocent causes of their merriment. But they were
+too well known in Albuquerque to allow the disapproval to approach a
+serious end, and finally, as the humorous side of the situation dawned
+on the crowd, they joined in the laugh and all went merrily.
+
+
+At the psychologic moment some one shouted for a dance and the
+suggestion met with uproarious approval. At that moment Harris, the
+sheriff, came in and volunteered to supply the necessary music if the
+crowd would pay the fine against a straying fiddler he had corraled the
+day before. A hat was quickly passed and a sum was realized which would
+pay several fines to come and Harris departed for the music.
+
+A chair was placed on the bar for the musician and, to the tune of "Old
+Dan Tucker" and an assortment of similar airs, the board floor shook
+and trembled. It was a comical sight and Hopalong, the only wallflower
+besides Baum and the sheriff, laughed until he became weak. Cow punchers
+play as they work, hard and earnestly, and there was plenty of action.
+Sombreros flapped like huge wings and the baggy chaps looked like small,
+distorted balloons.
+
+The Virginia reel was a marvel of supple, exaggerated grace and the
+quadrille looked like a free-for-all for unbroken colts. The honor
+of prompter was conferred upon the sheriff, and he gravely called the
+changes as they were usually called in that section of the country:
+
+   "Oh, th' ladies trail in
+      An' th' gents trail out,
+   An' all stampede down th' middle.
+      If yu ain't got th' tin
+         Yu can dance an' shout,
+   But yu must keep up with th' fiddle."
+
+
+As the dance waxed faster and the dancers grew hotter Hopalong,
+feeling lonesome because he wouldn't face ridicule, even if it was not
+expressed, went over and stood by the sheriff. He and Harris were good
+friends, for he had received the wound that crippled him in saving the
+sheriff from assassination. Harris killed the man who had fired that
+shot, and from this episode on the burning desert grew a friendship that
+was as strong as their own natures.
+
+Harris was very well liked by the majority and feared by the rest, for
+he was a square man and the best sheriff the county had ever known.
+Quiet and unassuming, small of stature and with a kind word for every
+one, he was a universal favorite among the better class of citizens.
+Quick as a flash and unerring in his shooting, he was a nightmare to the
+"bad men." No profane word had ever been known to leave his lips, and
+he was the possessor of a widespread reputation for generosity. His
+face was naturally frank and open; but when his eyes narrowed with
+determination it became blank and cold. When he saw his young friend
+sidle over to him he smiled and nodded a hearty welcome.
+
+
+
+"They's shore cuttin' her loose," remarked Hopalong.
+
+"First two pairs forward an' back!--they shore is," responded the
+prompter.
+
+"Who's th' gent playin' lady to Buck?" Queried Hopalong.
+
+"Forward again an' ladies change!--Billy Jordan."
+
+Hopalong watched the couple until they swung around and then he laughed
+silently. "Buck's got too many feet," he seriously remarked to his
+friend.
+
+"Swing th' girl yu loves th' best!--he ain't lonesome, look at that--"
+
+Two shots rang out in quick succession and Harris stumbled, wheeled and
+pitched forward on his face as Hopalong's sombrero spun across his
+body. For a second there was an intense silence, heavy, strained
+and sickening. Then a roar broke forth and the crowd of frenzied
+merry-makers, headed by Hopalong, poured out into the street and spread
+out to search the town. As daylight dawned the searchers began to
+straggle back with the same report of failure. Buck and Red met on the
+street near the door and each looked questioningly at the other. Each
+shook his head and looked around, their fingers toying absentmindedly at
+their belts. Finally Buck cleared his throat and remarked casually,
+
+"Mebby he's following 'em."
+
+Red nodded and they went over toward their horses. As they were
+hesitating which route to take, Billy Jordan came up.
+
+"Mebby yu'd like to see yore pardner--he's out by Buzzard's Spring. We'll
+take care of him," jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the saloon
+where Harris's body lay. "And we'll all git th' others later. They
+cain't git away for long."
+
+Buck and Red nodded and headed for Buzzard's Spring. As they neared the
+water hole they saw Hopalong sitting on a rock, his head resting in one
+hand while the other hung loosely from his knee. He did not notice
+them when they arrived, and with a ready tact they sat quietly on their
+horses and looked in every direction except toward him. The sun became
+a ball of molten fire and the sand flies annoyed them incessantly, but
+still they sat and waited, silent and apologetic.
+
+Hopalong finally arose, reached for his sombrero, and, finding it gone,
+swore long and earnestly at the scene its loss brought before him. He
+walked over to his horse and, leaping into the saddle, turned and faced
+his friends. "Yu old sons-of-guns," he said. They looked sheepish and
+nodded negatively in answer to the look of inquiry in his eyes. "They
+ain't got 'em yet," remarked Red slowly. Hopalong straightened up, his
+eyes narrowed and his face became hard and resolute as he led the way
+back toward the town.
+
+Buck rode up beside him and, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve,
+began to speak to Red. "We might look up th' Joneses, Red. They had been
+dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' they was huntin' Hopalong.
+Ever since we had to kill their brother in Buckskin they has been
+yappin' as how they was goin' to wipe us out. Hopalong an' Harris was
+standin' clost together an' they tried for both. They shot twice, one
+for Harris an' one for Hopalong, an' what more do yu want?"
+
+"It shore looks thataway, Buck," replied Red, biting into a huge plug of
+tobacco which he produced from his chaps. "Anyhow, they wouldn't be no
+loss if they didn't. Member what Pie said?"
+
+Hopalong looked straight ahead, and when he spoke the words sounded as
+though he had bitten them off: "Yore right, Buck, but I gits first try
+at Thirsty. He's my meat an' I'll plug th' fellow what says he ain't.
+Damn him!"
+
+The others replied by applying their spurs, and in a short time they
+dismounted before the Nugget and Rope. Thirsty wouldn't have a chance to
+not care how he dealt the cards.
+
+Buck and Red moved quickly through the crowd, speaking fast and
+earnestly. When they returned to where they had left their friend they
+saw him half a block away and they followed slowly, one on either side
+of the street. There would be no bullets in his back if they knew what
+they were about, and they usually did.
+
+As Hopalong neared the corner, Thirsty and his two brothers turned it
+and saw him. Thirsty said something in a low voice, and the other two
+walked across the street and disappeared behind the store. When assured
+that they were secure, Thirsty walked up to a huge boulder on the side
+of the street farthest from the store and turned and faced his enemy,
+who approached rapidly until about five paces away, when he slowed up
+and finally stopped.
+
+For a number of seconds they sized each other up, Hopalong quiet
+and deliberate with a deadly hatred; Thirsty pale and furtive with a
+sensation hitherto unknown to him. It was Right meeting Wrong, and Wrong
+lost confidence. Often had Thirsty Jones looked death in the face and
+laughed, but there was something in Hopalong's eyes that made his flesh
+creep.
+
+He glanced quickly past his foe and took in the scene with one flash of
+his eyes. There was the crowd, eager, expectant, scowling. There were
+Buck and Red, each lounging against a boulder, Buck on his right, Red
+on his left. Before him stood the only man he had ever feared. Hopalong
+shifted his feet and Thirsty, coming to himself with a start, smiled.
+His nerve had been shaken, but he was master of himself once more.
+
+"Well!" he snarled, scowling.
+
+Hopalong made no response, but stared him in the eyes.
+
+Thirsty expected action, and the deadly quiet of his enemy oppressed
+him. He stared in turn, but the insistent searching of his opponent's
+eyes scorched him and he shifted his gaze to Hopalong's neck.
+
+"Well!" he repeated uneasily.
+
+"Did yu have a nice time at th' dance last night?" Asked Hopalong, still
+searching the face before him.
+
+"Was there a dance? I was over in Alameda," replied Thirsty shortly.
+
+"Ya-as, there was a dance, an' yu can shoot purty durn far if yu was in
+Alameda," responded Hopalong, his voice low and monotonous.
+
+Thirsty shifted his feet and glanced around. Buck and Red were still
+lounging against their bowlders and apparently were not paying any
+attention to the proceedings. His fickle nerve came back again, for
+he knew he would receive fair play. So he faced Hopalong once more and
+regarded him with a cynical smile.
+
+"Yu seems to worry a whole lot about me. Is it because yu has a
+tender feelin', or because it's none of yore blame business?" He asked
+aggressively.
+
+Hopalong paled with sudden anger, but controlled himself.
+
+"It's because yu murdered Harris," he replied.
+
+"Shoo! An' how does yu figger it out?" Asked Thirsty, jauntily.
+
+"He was huntin' yu hard an' yu thought yu'd stop it, so yu came in to
+lay for him. When yu saw me an' him together yu saw di' chance to
+wipe out another score. That's how I figger it out," replied Hopalong
+quietly.
+
+"Yore a reg'lar 'tective, ain't yu?" Thirsty asked ironically.
+
+"I've got common sense," responded Hopalong.
+
+"Yu has? Yu better tell th' rest that, too," replied Thirsty.
+
+"I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny
+remarks. Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel
+better, too."
+
+"Shoo! An' suppose I did shoot him, I done a good job, didn't I?"
+
+"Yu did the worst job yu could do, yu highway robber," softly said
+Hopalong, at the same time moving nearer. "Harris knew yu stopped th'
+stage last month, an' that's why yu've been dodgin' him."
+
+"Yore a liar!" shouted Thirsty, reaching for his gun.
+
+The movement was fatal, for before he could draw, the Colt in Hopalong's
+holster leaped out and flashed from its owner's hip and Thirsty fell
+sideways, face down in the dust of the street.
+
+Hopalong started toward the fallen man, but as he did so a shot rang out
+from behind the store and he pitched forward, stumbled and rolled behind
+the bowlder. As he stumbled his left hand streaked to his hip, and when
+he fell he had a gun in each hand.
+
+As he disappeared from sight Goodeye and Bill Jones stepped from behind
+the store and started to run away. Not able to resist the temptation to
+look again, they stopped and turned and Bill laughed.
+
+"Easy as sin," he said.
+
+"Run, yu fool--Red an' Buck'll be here. Want to git plugged?" shouted
+Goodeye angrily.
+
+They turned and started for a group of ponies twenty yards away, and as
+they leaped into the saddles two shots were fired from the street. As
+the reports died away Buck and Red turned the corner of the store, Colts
+in hand, and, checking their rush as they saw the saddles emptied, they
+turned toward the street and saw Hopalong, with blood oozing from an
+abrasion on his cheek, sitting up cross-legged, with each hand holding a
+gun, from which came thin wisps of smoke.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun!" cried Buck, proud and delighted.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun!" echoed Red, grinning.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. Hopalong Keeps His Word
+
+The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sun
+branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the north
+arose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond them
+lay Bass Ca on. From the latter emerged a solitary figure astride a
+broncho, and as he ascended the topmost rise he glanced below him at the
+placid stream and beyond it into Mexico. As he sat quietly in his saddle
+he smiled and laughed gently to himself. The trail he had just followed
+had been replete with trouble which had suited the state of his mind
+and he now felt humorous, having cleaned up a pressing debt with his
+six-shooter. Surely there ought to be a mild sort of excitement in the
+land he faced, something picturesque and out of the ordinary. This
+was to be the finishing touch to his trip, and he had left his two
+companions at Albuquerque in order that he might have to himself all
+that he could find.
+
+Not many miles to the south of him lay the town which had been the
+rendezvous of Tamale Jose, whose weakness had been a liking for other
+people's cattle. Well he remembered his first man hunt: the discovery
+of the theft, the trail and pursuit and--the ending. He was scarcely
+eighteen years of age when that event took place, and the wisdom he had
+absorbed then had stood him in good stead many times since. He had even
+now a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companions
+had failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped strategy had
+gained that end. The fight would never be forgotten, as it was his
+first, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of Red
+Connors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.
+
+He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, the
+first girl he had ever known--and the last. With a boy's impetuosity he
+had wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sang
+beneath her window and talked to her mother. He had boldly scaled the
+wall and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to his
+own ability to avoid being seen. No hidden meaning lay in his words;
+he spoke from his heart and with no concealment. And he remembered the
+treachery that had forced him, fighting, to the camp of his outfit; and
+when he had returned with his friends she had disappeared.
+
+To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those sisters who
+so easily forgot how to talk. The fragrance of the old days wrapped
+themselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine for his
+black-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to see her
+again. Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to and
+across the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuing
+Tamale Jose.
+
+The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming of
+guitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed from
+several houses. The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavy
+shadows and the little church farther up the dusty street showed dim
+lights in its stained windows. Off to the north became audible the
+rhythmic beat of a horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with a
+mocking bow.
+
+He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his mount back
+on its haunches as he stopped before a house. Glancing around and
+determining to find out a few facts as soon as possible, he rode up
+to the low door and pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt. After
+waiting for possibly half a minute and receiving no response he hammered
+a tune upon it with two Colts and had the satisfaction of seeing half a
+score of heads protrude from the windows in the nearby houses.
+
+"If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town up,"
+he grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.
+
+"Who is it?" came from within. The voice was distinctly feminine and
+Hopalong winked to himself in congratulation.
+
+"Me," he replied, twirling his fingers from his nose at the curious,
+forgetting that the darkness hid his actions from sight.
+
+"Yes, I know; but who is 'me'?" Came from the house.
+
+"Ain't I a fool!" he complained to himself, and raising his voice he
+replied coaxingly, "Open th' door a bit an' see. Are yu Carmencita?"
+
+"O-o-o! but you must tell me who it is first."
+
+"Mr. Cassidy," he replied, flushing at the 'mister,' "an' I wants to see
+Carmencita."
+
+"Carmencita who?" teasingly came from behind the door. Hopalong
+scratched his head. "Gee, yu've roped me--I suppose she has got another
+handle. Oh, yu know--she used to live here about seven years back. She
+had great big black eyes, pretty cheeks an' a mouth that 'ud stampede
+anybody. Don't yu know now? She was about so high," holding out his
+hands in the darkness.
+
+The door opened a trifle on a chain and Hopalong peered eagerly forward.
+
+"Ah, it is you, the brave Americano! You must go away quick or you will
+meet with harm. Manuel is awfully jealous and he will kill you! Go at
+once, please!"
+
+Hopalong pulled at the half-hearted down upon his lip and laughed
+softly. Then he slid the guns back in their holsters and felt for his
+sombrero.
+
+"Manuel wants to see me first, Star Eyes."
+
+"No! no!" she replied, stamping upon the floor vehemently. "You must go
+now--at once!"
+
+"I'd shore look nice hittin' th' trail because Manuel Somebody wants
+to get hurt, wouldn't I? Don't yu remember how I used to shinny up this
+here wall an' skin th' cat gettin' through that hole up there what yu
+said was a window? Ah, come on an' open th' door--I'd shore like to see
+yu again!" pleaded the irrepressible.
+
+"No! no! Go away. Oh, won't you please go away!"
+
+Hopalong sighed audibly and turned his horse. As he did so he heard the
+door open and a sigh reached his ears. He wheeled like a flash and found
+the door closed again on its chain. A laugh of delight came from behind
+it.
+
+"Come out, please!--just for a minute," he begged, wishing that he was
+brave enough to smash the door to splinters and grab her.
+
+"If I do, will you go away?" Asked the girl. "Oh, what will Manuel say
+if he comes? And all those people, they'll tell him!"
+
+"Hey, yu!" shouted Hopalong, brandishing his Colts at the protruding
+heads. "Git scarce! I'll shore plug th' last one in!" Then he laughed at
+the sudden vanishing.
+
+The door slowly opened and Carmencita, fat and drowsy, wobbled out
+to him. Hopalong's feelings were interfering with his breathing as he
+surveyed her. "Oh, yu shore are mistaken, Mrs. Carmencita. I wants to
+see yore daughter!"
+
+"Ah, you have forgotten the little Carmencita who used to look for you.
+Like all the men, you have forgotten," she cooed reproachfully. Then her
+fear predominated again and she cried, "Oh, if my husband should see me
+now!"
+
+Hopalong mastered his astonishment and bowed. He had a desire to ride
+madly into the Rio Grande and collect his senses.
+
+"Yu are right--this is too dangerous--I'll amble on some," he replied
+hastily. Under his breath he prayed that the outfit would never learn
+of this. He turned his horse and rode slowly up the street as the door
+closed.
+
+Rounding the corner he heard a soft footfall, and swerving in his saddle
+he turned and struck with all his might in the face of a man who leaped
+at him, at the same time grasping the uplifted wrist with his other
+hand. A curse and the tinkle of thin steel on the pavement accompanied
+the fall of his opponent. Bending down from his saddle he picked up the
+weapon and the next minute the enraged assassin was staring into the
+unwavering and, to him, growing muzzle of a Colt's .45.
+
+"Yu shore had a bum teacher. Don't yu know better'n to push it in? An'
+me a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct--it shows you
+don't appreciate cow-wrastlers. This is safer," he remarked, throwing
+the stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang out angrily
+and quivered. "I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we mostly
+poisons coyotes up my way," he added. Then a thought struck him. "Yu
+must be that dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?"
+
+A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.
+
+"Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever. I don't
+want yore Carmencita. I only called to say hulloo," responded Hopalong,
+his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him from his
+vivid recollection of the woman who had opened the door.
+
+"Yah!" snarled Manuel. "You wants to poison my little bird. You with
+your fair hair and your cursed swagger!"
+
+The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from the
+Mexican's nose. "Yu wants to ride easy, hombre. I ain't no angel, but I
+don't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore head
+that she wants to be poisoned. Why, she near stuck a knife in me!" he
+lied.
+
+The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than that
+to wipe out the insult of the blow. The horse became restless, and when
+Hopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.
+
+"Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' 'dobe hut by th' arroyo.
+I'm tellin' yu this so yu won't do nothin' rash an' leave Carmencita a
+widow. Sabe?"
+
+The hate on the Mexican's face redoubled and he took a short step
+forward, but stopped when the muzzle of the Colt kissed his nose. He was
+the brother of Tamale Jose. As he backed away from the cool touch of
+the weapon he thought out swiftly his revenge. Some of his brother's
+old companions were at that moment drinking mescal in a saloon down the
+street, and they would be glad to see this Americano die. He glanced
+past his house at the saloon and Hopalong misconstrued his thoughts.
+
+"Shore, go home. I'll just circulate around some for exercise. No hard
+feelings, only yu better throw it next time," he said as he backed away
+and rode off. Manuel went down the street and then ran into the saloon,
+where he caused an uproar.
+
+Hopalong rode to the end of the plaza and tried to sing, but it was a
+dismal failure. Then he felt thirsty and wondered why he hadn't thought
+of it before. Turning his horse and seeing the saloon he rode up to it
+and in, lying flat on the animal's neck to avoid being swept off by the
+door frame. His entrance scared white some half a dozen loungers, who
+immediately sprang up in a decidedly hostile manner. Hopalong's Colts
+peeped over the ears of his horse and he backed into a corner near the
+bar.
+
+"One, two, three--now, altogether, breathe! Yu acts like yu never saw a
+real puncher afore. All th' same," he remarked, nodding at several
+of the crowd, "I've seen yu afore. Yu are th' gents with th' hot-foot
+get-a-way that vamoosed when we got Tamale."
+
+Curses were flung at him and only the humorous mood he was in saved
+trouble. One, bolder than the rest, spoke up: "The senor will not see
+any 'hot-foot get-a-way,' as he calls it, now! The senor was not wise to
+go so far away from his friends!"'
+
+Hopalong looked at the speaker and a quizzical grin slowly spread over
+his face. "They'll shore feel glad when I tells them yu was askin' for
+'em. But didn't yu see too much of 'em once, or was yu poundin' leather
+in the other direction? Yu don't want to worry none about me--an' if yu
+don't get yore hands closter to yore neck they'll be heck to pay! There,
+that's more like home," he remarked, nodding assurance.
+
+Reaching over he grasped a bottle and poured out a drink, his Colt
+slipping from his hand and dangling from his wrist by a thong. As the
+weapon started to fall several of the audience involuntarily moved as if
+to pick it up. Hopalong noticed this and paused with the glass half
+way to his lips. "Don't bother yoreselves none; I can git it again," he
+said, tossing off the liquor.
+
+"Wow! Holy smoke!" he yelled. "This ain't drink! Sufferin' coyotes,
+nobody can accuse yu of sellin' liquor! Did yu make this all by
+yoreself?" He asked incredulously of the proprietor, who didn't know
+whether to run or to pray. Then he noticed that the crowd was spreading
+out and his Colts again became the center of interest.
+
+"Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!" he ordered as the person addressed
+was gliding toward the door. "I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot me from th'
+street. Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop somethin' hot.
+An' yu all better sit down," he suggested, sweeping them with his guns.
+One man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in complying and Hopalong
+sent a bullet through the top of his high sombrero, which had a most
+gratifying effect.
+
+"You'll regret this!" hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur of
+assent arose. Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon and
+immediately a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.
+
+"Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo," counted off the daring
+horseman; "move a bit an' off yu go," he finished. Then his face broke
+out in another grin as he thought of more enjoyment.
+
+"That there gent on th' left," he said, pointing out with a gun the man
+he meant. "Yu sing us a song. Sing a nice little song."
+
+As the object of his remarks remained mute he let his thumb
+ostentatiously slide back with the hammer of the gun under it. "Sing!
+Quick!" The man sang.
+
+As Hopalong leaned forward to say something a stiletto flashed past his
+neck and crashed into the bottle beside him. The echo of the crash was
+merged into a report as Hopalong fired from his waist. Then he backed
+out into the Street and, wheeling, galloped across the plaza and again
+faced the saloon. A flash split the darkness and a bullet hummed over
+his head and thudded into an adobe wall at his back. Another shot and he
+replied, aiming at the flash.
+
+From down the Street came the sound of a window opening and he promptly
+caused it to close again. Several more windows opened and hastily
+closed, and he rode slowly toward the far end of the plaza. As he faced
+the saloon once more he heard a command to throw up his hands and saw
+the glint of a gun, held by a man who wore the insignia of sheriff.
+Hopalong complied, but as his hands went up two spurts of fire shot
+forth and the sheriff dropped his weapon, reeled and sat down. Hopalong
+rode over to him and swinging down, picked up the gun and looked the
+officer over.
+
+
+
+"Shoo, yu'll be all right soon--yore only plugged in th' arms," he
+remarked as he glanced up the street. Shadowy forms were gliding from
+cover to cover and he immediately caused consternation among them by
+his accuracy. "Ain't it sad?" He complained to the wounded man. "I never
+starts out but what somebody makes me shoot 'em. Came down here to see
+a girl an' find she's married. Then when I moves on peaceable--like her
+husband makes me hit him. Then I wants a drink an' he goes an' fans a
+knife at me, an' me just teachin' him how! Then yu has to come along an'
+make more trouble".
+
+"Now look at them fools over there," he said, pointing at a dark shadow
+some fifty paces off. "They're pattin' their backs because I don't
+see 'em, an' if I hurts them they'll git mad. Guess I'll make 'em dust
+along," he added, shooting into the spot. A howl went up and two men ran
+away at top speed.
+
+The sheriff nodded his sympathy and spoke. "I reckons you had better
+give up. You can't get away. Every house, every corner and shadow holds
+a man. You are a brave man, but, as you say, unfortunate. Better help me
+up and come with me--they'll tear you to pieces."
+
+"Shore I'll help yu up--I ain't got no grudge against nobody. But my
+friends know where I am an' they'll come down here an' raise a ruction
+if I don't show up. So, if it's all th' same to you, I'll be ambling
+right along," he said as he helped the sheriff to his feet.
+
+"Have you any objections to telling me your name?" Asked the sheriff as
+he looked himself over.
+
+"None whatever," answered Hopalong heartily. "I'm Hopalong Cassidy of
+th' Bar 20, Texas."
+
+"You don't surprise me--I've heard of you," replied the sheriff wearily.
+"You are the man who killed Tamale Jose, whom I hunted for unceasingly.
+I found him when you had left and I got the reward. Come again some
+time and I'll divide with you; two hundred and fifty dollars," he added
+craftily.
+
+"I shore will, but I don't want no money," replied Hopalong as he turned
+away. "Adios, senor," he called back.
+
+"Adios," replied the sheriff as he kicked a nearby door for assistance.
+
+The cow-pony tied itself up in knots as it pounded down the street
+toward the trail, and although he was fired on he swung into the dusty
+trail with a song on his lips. Several hours later he stood dripping wet
+on the American side of the Rio Grande and shouted advice to a score of
+Mexican cavalrymen on the opposite bank. Then he slowly picked his way
+toward El Paso for a game at Faro Dan's.
+
+The sheriff sat in his easy chair one night some three weeks later,
+gravely engaged in rolling a cigarette. His arms were practically well,
+the wounds being in the fleshy parts. He was a philosopher and was
+disposed to take things easy, which accounted for his being in his
+official position for fifteen years. A gentleman at the core, he was
+well educated and had visited a goodly portion of the world. A book of
+Horace lay open on his knees and on the table at his side lay a shining
+new revolver, Hopalong having carried off his former weapon. He read
+aloud several lines and in reaching for a light for his cigarette
+noticed the new six-shooter. His mind leaped from Horace to Hopalong,
+and he smiled grimly at the latter's promise to call.
+
+Glancing up, his eyes fell on a poster which conveyed the information in
+Spanish and in English that there was offered
+
+      +--------------------------------------+
+           | |  FIVE HUNDRED PESOS | |
+
+                    REWARD
+
+         For Hopalong Cassidy, of the Ranch
+
+      | | Known as the Bar-20, Texas, U. S. A. | |
+
+      +--------------------------------------+
+
+and which gave a good description of that gentleman.
+
+Sighing for the five hundred, he again took up his book and was lost in
+its pages when he heard a knock, rather low and timid. Wearily laying
+aside his reading, he strode to the door, expecting to hear a lengthy
+complaint from one of his townsmen. As he threw the door wide open the
+light streamed out and lighted up a revolver and behind it the beaming
+face of a cowboy, who grinned.
+
+"Well, I'll be damned!" ejaculated the sheriff, starting back in
+amazement.
+
+"Don't say that, sheriff; you've got lots of time to reform," replied a
+humorous voice. "How's th' wings?"
+
+"Almost well: you were considerate," responded the sheriff. "Let's go
+in--somebody might see me out here an' get into trouble," suggested the
+visitor, placing his foot on the sill.
+
+"Certainly--pardon my discourtesy," said the sheriff. "You see, I
+wasn't expecting you to-night," he explained, thinking of the
+elaborate preparations that he would have gone to if he had thought the
+irrepressible would call.
+
+"Well, I was down this way, an' seeing as how I had promised to drop
+in I just natchurally dropped," replied Hopalong as he took the chair
+proffered by his host.
+
+After talking awhile on everything and nothing the sheriff coughed and
+looked uneasily at his guest.
+
+"Mr. Cassidy, I am sorry you called, for I like men of your energy and
+courage and I very much dislike to arrest you," remarked the sheriff.
+"Of course you understand that you are under arrest," he added with
+anxiety.
+
+"Who, me?" Asked Hopalong with a rising inflection.
+
+"Most assuredly," breathed the sheriff.
+
+"Why, this is the first time I ever heard anything about it," replied
+the astonished cow-puncher. "I'm an American--don't that make any
+difference?"
+
+"Not in this case, I'm afraid. You see, it's for manslaughter."
+
+"Well, don't that beat th' devil, now?" Said Hopalong. He felt sorry
+that a citizen of the glorious United States should be prey for
+troublesome sheriffs, but he was sure that his duty to Texas called upon
+him never to submit to arrest at the hands of a Mexican. Remembering
+the Alamo, and still behind his Colt, he reached over and took up the
+shining weapon from the table and snapped it open on his knee. After
+placing the cartridges in his pocket he tossed the gun over on the bed
+and, reaching inside his shirt, drew out another and threw it after the
+first.
+
+"That's yore gun; I forgot to leave it," he said, apologetically.
+"Anyhow yu needs two," he added.
+
+Then he glanced around the room, noticed the poster and walked over
+and read it. A full swift sweep of his gloved hand tore it from its
+fastenings and crammed it under his belt. The glimmer of anger in his
+eyes gave way as he realized that his head was worth a definite price,
+and he smiled at what the boys would say when he showed it to them.
+Planting his feet far apart and placing his arms akimbo he faced his
+host in grim defiance.
+
+"Got any more of these?" He inquired, placing his hand on the poster
+under his belt.
+
+"Several," replied the sheriff.
+
+"Trot 'em out," ordered Hopalong shortly.
+
+The sheriff sighed, stretched and went over to a shelf, from which he
+took a bundle of the articles in question. Turning slowly he looked at
+the puncher and handed them to him.
+
+"I reckons they's all over this here town," remarked Hopalong.
+
+"They are, and you may never see Texas again."
+
+"So? Well, yu tell yore most particular friends that the job is worth
+five thousand, and that it will take so many to do it that when th'
+mazuma is divided up it won't buy a meal. There's only one man in this
+country tonight that can earn that money, an' that's me," said the
+puncher. "An' I don't need it," he added, smiling.
+
+"But you are my prisoner--you are under arrest," enlightened the sheriff,
+rolling another cigarette. The sheriff spoke as if asking a question.
+Never before had five hundred dollars been so close at hand and yet so
+unobtainable. It was like having a check-book but no bank account.
+
+"I'm shore sorry to treat yu mean," remarked Hopalong, "but I was paid a
+month in advance an' I'll have to go back an' earn it."
+
+"You can--if you say that you will return," replied the sheriff
+tentatively. The sheriff meant what he said and for the moment had
+forgotten that he was powerless and was not the one to make terms.
+
+Hopalong was amazed and for a time his ideas of Mexicans staggered under
+the blow. Then he smiled sympathetically as he realized that he faced a
+white man.
+
+"Never like to promise nothin'," he replied. "I might get plugged, or
+something might happen that wouldn't let me." Then his face lighted up
+as a thought came to him. "Say, I'll cut di' cards with yu to see if I
+comes back or not."
+
+The sheriff leaned back and gazed at the cool youngster before him.
+A smile of satisfaction, partly at the self-reliance of his guest and
+partly at the novelty of his situation, spread over his face. He reached
+for a pack of Mexican cards and laughed. "Man! You're a cool one--I'll do
+it. What do you call?"
+
+"Red," answered Hopalong.
+
+The sheriff slowly raised his hand and revealed the ace of hearts.
+Hopalong leaned back and laughed, at the same time taking from his
+pocket the six extracted cartridges. Arising and going over to the
+bed he slipped them in the chambers of the new gun and then placed the
+loaded weapon at the sheriff's elbow.
+
+"Well, I reckon I'll amble, sheriff," he said as he opened the door. "If
+yu ever sifts up my way drop in an' see me--th' boys'll give yu a good
+time."
+
+"Thanks; I will be glad to," replied the sheriff. "You'll take your
+pitcher to the well once too often some day, my friend. This courtesy,"
+glancing at the restored revolver, "might have cost you dearly."
+
+"Shoo! I did that once an' th' feller tried to use it," replied
+the cowboy as he backed through the door. "Some people are awfully
+careless," he added. "So long--"
+
+"So long," replied the sheriff, wondering what sort of a man he had been
+entertaining.
+
+The door closed softly and soon after a joyous whoop floated in from
+the Street. The sheriff toyed with the new gun and listened to the low
+caress of a distant guitar.
+
+"Well, don't that beat all?" He ejaculated.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. The Advent of McAllister
+
+
+The blazing sun shone pitilessly on an arid plain which was spotted
+with dust-gray clumps of mesquite and thorny chaparral. Basking in the
+burning sand and alkali lay several Gila monsters, which raised their
+heads and hissed with wide-open jaws as several faint, whip-like reports
+echoed flatly over the desolate plain, showing that even they had
+learned that danger was associated with such sounds.
+
+Off to the north there became visible a cloud of dust and at intervals
+something swayed in it, something that rose and fell and then became
+hidden again. Out of that cloud came sharp, splitting sounds, which were
+faintly responded to by another and larger cloud in its rear. As it came
+nearer and finally swept past, the Gilas, to their terror, saw a madly
+pounding horse, and it carried a man. The latter turned in his saddle
+and raised a gun to his shoulder and the thunder that issued from it
+caused the creeping audience to throw up their tails in sudden panic and
+bury themselves out of sight in the sand.
+
+The horse was only a broncho, its sides covered with hideous yellow
+spots, and on its near flank was a peculiar scar, the brand. Foam
+flecked from its crimsoned jaws and found a resting place on its sides
+and on the hairy chaps of its rider. Sweat rolled and streamed from its
+heaving flanks and was greedily sucked up by the drought-cursed alkali.
+Close to the rider's knee a bloody furrow ran forward and one of the
+broncho's ears was torn and limp. The broncho was doing its best--it
+could run at that pace until it dropped dead. Every ounce of strength it
+possessed was put forth to bring those hind hoofs well in front of
+the forward ones and to send them pushing the sand behind in streaming
+clouds. The horse had done this same thing many times--when would its
+master learn sense?
+
+The man was typical in appearance with many of that broad land. Lithe,
+sinewy and bronzed by hard riding and hot suns, he sat in his Cheyenne
+saddle like a centaur, all his weight on the heavy, leather-guarded
+stirrups, his body rising in one magnificent straight line. A bleached
+moustache hid the thin lips, and a gray sombrero threw a heavy shadow
+across his eyes. Around his neck and over his open, blue flannel
+shirt lay loosely a knotted silk kerchief, and on his thighs a pair of
+open-flapped holsters swung uneasily with their ivory handled burdens.
+He turned abruptly, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired, then
+he laughed recklessly and patted his mount, which responded to
+the confident caress by lying flatter to the earth in a spurt of
+heart-breaking speed.
+
+"I'll show 'em who they're trailin'. This is th' second time I've
+started for Muddy Wells, an' I'm goin' to git there, too, for all th'
+Apaches out of Hades!"
+
+To the south another cloud of dust rapidly approached and the rider
+scanned it closely, for it was directly in his path. As he watched it
+he saw something wave and it was a sombrero! Shortly afterward a real
+cowboy yell reached his ears. He grinned and slid another cartridge in
+the greasy, smoking barrel of the Sharp's and fired again at the cloud
+in his rear. Some few minutes later a whooping, bunched crowd of madly
+riding cowboys thundered past him and he was recognized.
+
+"Hullo, Frenchy!" yelled the nearest one. "Comin' back?"
+
+"Come on, McAllister!" shouted another; "we'll give 'em blazes!" In
+response the straining broncho suddenly stiffened, bunched and slid on
+its haunches, wheeled and retraced its course. The rear cloud suddenly
+scattered into many smaller ones and all swept off to the east. The
+rescuing band overtook them and, several hours later, when seated around
+a table in Tom Lee's saloon, Muddy Wells, a count was taken of them,
+which was pleasing in its facts.
+
+"We was huntin' coyotes when we saw yu," said a smiling puncher who was
+known as Salvation Carroll chiefly because he wasn't.
+
+"Yep! They've been stalkin' Tom's chickens," supplied Waffles, the
+champion poker player of the outfit. Tom Lee's chickens could whip
+anything of their kind for miles around and were reverenced accordingly.
+
+"Sho! Is that so?" Asked Frenchy with mild incredulity, such a state of
+affairs being deplorable.
+
+"She shore is!" answered Tex Le Blanc, and then, as an afterthought, he
+added, "Where'd yu hit th' War-whoops?"
+
+"'Bout four hours back. This here's th' second time I've headed for this
+place--last time they chased me to Las Cruces."
+
+"That so?" Asked Bigfoot Baker, a giant. "Ain't they allus interferin',
+now? Anyhow, they're better'n coyotes."
+
+"They was purty well heeled," suggested Tex, glancing at a bunch of
+repeating Winchesters of late model which lay stacked in a corner.
+"Charley here said he thought they was from th' way yore cayuse looked,
+didn't yu, Charley?" Charley nodded and filled his pipe.
+
+"'Pears like a feller can't amble around much nowadays without havin' to
+fight," grumbled Lefty Allen, who usually went out of his way hunting up
+trouble.
+
+"We're goin' to th' Hills as soon as our cookie turns up," volunteered
+Tenspot Davis, looking inquiringly at Frenchy. "Heard any more news?"
+
+"Nope. Same old story--lots of gold. Shucks, I've bit on so many of them
+rumors that they don't feaze me no more. One man who don't know nothin'
+about prospectin' goes an' stumbles over a fortune an' those who know it
+from A to Izzard goes 'round pullin' in their belts."
+
+"We don't pull in no belts--we knows just where to look, don't we,
+Tenspot?" Remarked Tex, looking very wise.
+
+"Ya-as we do," answered Tenspot, "if yu hasn't dreamed about it, we do."
+
+"Yu wait; I wasn't dreamin', none whatever," assured Tex.
+
+"I saw it!"
+
+"Ya-as, I saw it too onct," replied Frenchy with sarcasm. "Went and
+lugged fifty pound of it all th' way to th' assay office--took me two
+days! an' that there four-eyed cuss looks at it and snickers. Then
+he takes me by di' arm an' leads me to th' window. 'See that pile, my
+friend? That's all like yourn,' sez he. 'It's worth about one simoleon a
+ton at th' coast. They use it for ballast.'"
+
+"Aw! But this what I saw was gold!" exploded Tex.
+
+"So was mine, for a while!" laughed Frenchy, nodding to the bartender
+for another round.
+
+"Well, we're tired of punchin' cows! Ride sixteen hours a day, year in
+an' year out, an' what do we get? Fifty a month an' no chance to spend
+it, an' grub that'd make a coyote sniffle! I'm for a vacation, an' if I
+goes broke, why, I'll punch again!" asserted Waffles, the foreman, thus
+revealing the real purpose of the trip.
+
+"What'd yore boss say?" Asked Frenchy.
+
+"Whoop! What didn't he say! Honest, I never thought he had it in him.
+It was fine. He cussed an hour frontways an' then trailed back on a dead
+gallop, with us a-laughin' fit to bust. Then he rustles for his gun an'
+we rustles for town," answered Waffles, laughing at his remembrance of
+it.
+
+As Frenchy was about to reply his sombrero was snatched from his
+head and disappeared. If he "got mad" he was to be regarded as not
+sufficiently well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot water;
+if he took it good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit; but in
+either case he didn't get his hat without begging or fighting for
+it. This was a recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was not
+intended as an insult.
+
+Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose. Punching Lefty playfully in
+the ribs he passed his hands behind that person's back. Not finding the
+lost head-gear he laughed and, tripping Lefty up, fell with him and,
+reaching up on the table for his glass, poured the contents down Lefty's
+back and arose.
+
+"Yu son-of-a-gun!" indignantly wailed that unfortunate. "Gee, it feels
+funny," he added, grinning as he pulled the wet shirt away from his
+spine.
+
+"Well, I've got to be amblin'," said Frenchy, totally ignoring the
+loss of his hat. "Goin' down to Buckskin," he offered, and then asked,
+"When's yore cook comin'?"
+
+"Day after to-morrow, if he don't get loaded," replied Tex.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"A one-eyed Mexican--Quiensabe Antonio."
+
+"I used to know him. He's a heck of a cook. Dished up th' grub one
+season when I was punchin' for th' Tin-Cup up in Montana," replied
+Frenchy.
+
+"Oh, he kin cook now, all right." replied Waffles.
+
+"That's about all he can cook. Useter wash his knives in th' coffee pot
+an' blow on di' tins. I chased him a mile one night for leavin' sand in
+th' skillet. Yu can have him--I don't envy yu none whatever.
+
+"He don't sand no skillet when little Tenspot's around," assured that
+person, slapping his holster. "Does he, Lefty?"
+
+"If he does, yu oughter be lynched," consoled Lefty.
+
+"Well, so long," remarked Frenchy, riding off to a small store, where he
+bought a cheap sombrero.
+
+Frenchy was a jack-of-all-trades, having been cow-puncher, prospector,
+proprietor of a "hotel" in Albuquerque, foreman of a ranch, sheriff,
+and at one time had played angel to a venturesome but poor show troupe.
+Beside his versatility he was well known as the man who took the stage
+through the Sioux country when no one else volunteered. He could shoot
+with the best, but his one pride was the brand of poker he handed out.
+Furthermore, he had never been known to take an unjust advantage over
+any man and, on the contrary, had frequently voluntarily handicapped
+himself to make the event more interesting. But he must not be classed
+as being hampered with self-restraint.
+
+His reasons for making this trip were two-fold: he wished to see Buck
+Peters, the foreman of the Bar-20 outfit, as he and Buck had punched
+cows together twenty years before and were firm friends; the other was
+that he wished to get square with Hopalong Cassidy, who had decisively
+cleaned him out the year before at poker. Hopalong played either
+in great good luck or the contrary, while Frenchy played an even,
+consistent game and usually left off richer than when he began, and this
+decisive defeat bothered him more than he would admit, even to himself.
+
+The round-up season was at hand and the Bar-20 was short of ropers, the
+rumors of fresh gold discoveries in the Black Hills having drawn all the
+more restless men north. The outfit also had a slight touch of the gold
+fever, and only their peculiar loyalty to the ranch and the assurance
+of the foreman that when the work was over he would accompany them, kept
+them from joining the rush of those who desired sudden and much wealth
+as the necessary preliminary of painting some cow town in all the "bang
+up" style such an event would call for. Therefore they had been given
+orders to secure the required assistance, and they intended to do so,
+and were prepared to kidnap, if necessary, for the glamour of wealth and
+the hilarity of the vacation made the hours falter in their speed.
+
+As Frenchy leaned back in his chair in Cowan's saloon, Buckskin, early
+the next morning, planning to get revenge on Hopalong and then to
+recover his sombrero, he heard a medley of yells and whoops and soon the
+door flew open before the strenuous and concentrated entry of a mass
+of twisting and kicking arms and legs, which magically found their
+respective owners and reverted to the established order of things.
+
+When the alkali dust had thinned he saw seven cow-punchers sitting on
+the prostrate form of another, who was earnestly engaged in trying to
+push Johnny Nelson's head out in the street with one foot as he voiced
+his lucid opinion of things in general and the seven in particular.
+After Red Connors had been stabbed in the back several times by the
+victim's energetic elbow he ran out of the room and presently returned
+with a pleased expression and a sombrero full of water, his finger
+plugging an old bullet hole in the crown.
+
+"Is he any better, Buck?" Anxiously inquired the man with the reservoir.
+
+"About a dollar's worth," replied the foreman. "Jest put a little right
+here," he drawled as he pulled back the collar of the unfortunate's
+shirt.
+
+"Ow! wow! WOW!" wailed the recipient, heaving and straining. The
+unengaged leg was suddenly wrested loose, and as it shot up and out
+Billy Williams, with his pessimism aroused to a blue-ribbon pitch, sat
+down forcibly in an adjacent part of the room, from where he lectured
+between gasps on the follies of mankind and the attributes of army
+mules.
+
+Red tiptoed around the squirming bunch, looking for an opening, his
+pleased expression now having added a grin.
+
+"Seems to be gittin' violent-like," he soliloquized, as he aimed a
+stream at Hopalong's ear, which showed for a second as Pete Wilson
+strove for a half-nelson, and he managed to include Johnny and Pete in
+his effort.
+
+Several minutes later, when the storm had subsided, the woeful crowd
+enthusiastically urged Hopalong to the bar, where he "bought."
+
+"Of all th' ornery outfits I ever saw--" began the man at the table,
+grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
+
+"Why, hullo, Frenchy! Glad to see yu, yu old son-of-a-gun! What's th'
+news from th' Hills?" Shouted Hopalong.
+
+"Rather locoed, an' there's a locoed gang that's headin' that way. Goin'
+up?" he asked.
+
+"Shore, after round-up. Seen any punchers trailin' around loose?"
+
+"Ya-as," drawled Frenchy, delving into the possibilities suddenly opened
+to him and determining to utilize to the fullest extent the opportunity
+that had come to him unsought. "There's nine over to Muddy Wells that yu
+might git if yu wants them bad enough. They've got a sombrero of mine,"
+he added deprecatingly.
+
+"Nine! Twisted Jerusalem, Buck! Nine whole cow-punchers a-pinin' for
+work," he shouted, but then added thoughtfully, "Mebby they's engaged,"
+it being one of the courtesies of the land not to take another man's
+help.
+
+"Nope. They've stampeded for th' Hills an' left their boss all alone,"
+replied Frenchy, well knowing that such desertion would not, in the
+minds of the Bar-20 men, add any merits to the case of the distant
+outfit.
+
+"Th' sons-of-guns," said Hopalong, "let's go an' get 'em," he suggested,
+turning to Buck, who nodded a smiling assent.
+
+"Oh, what's the hurry?" Asked Frenchy, seeing his projected game
+slipping away into the uncertain future and happy in the thought that he
+would be avenged on the O-Bar-O outfit.
+
+"They'll be there till to-morrow noon--they's waitin' for their cookie,
+who's goin' with them."
+
+"A cook! A cook! Oh, joy, a cook!" exulted Johnny, not for one instant
+doubting Buck's ability to capture the whole outfit and seeing a whirl
+of excitement in the effort.
+
+"Anybody we knows?" Inquired Skinny Thompson.
+
+"Shore. Tenspot Davis, Waffles, Salvation Carroll, Bigfoot Baker,
+Charley Lane, Lefty Allen, Kid Morris, Curley Tate an' Tex Le Blanc,"
+responded Frenchy.
+
+"Umm-m. Might as well rope a blizzard," grumbled Billy. "Might as well
+try to git th' Seventh Cavalry. We'll have a pious time corralling that
+bunch. Them's th' fellows that hit that bunch of inquirin' Crow braves
+that time up in th' Bad Lands an' then said by-bye to th' Ninth."
+
+"Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an' Hopalong
+can sing 'em to sleep," interposed Johnny, afraid that the expedition
+would fall through.
+
+"How about Curley and Tex?" Pugnaciously asked Billy.
+
+"Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't think
+they's dangerous. Salvation an' Tenspot are only ones who can shoot,"
+stoutly maintained Johnny.
+
+"Here yu, get mum," ordered Buck to the pair. "When this outfit goes
+after anything it generally gets it. All in favor of kidnappin' that
+outfit signify di' same by kickin' Billy," whereupon Bill swore.
+
+"Do yu want yore hat?" Asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.
+
+"I shore do," answered that individual.
+
+"If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu. Fifty a month an'
+grub," offered the foreman.
+
+"O.K." replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.
+
+Buck looked at his watch. "Seven o'clock--we ought to get there by five
+if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe. Come on."
+
+"How are we goin' to git them?" Asked Billy.
+
+"Yu leave that to me, son. Hopalong an' Frenchy'll tend to that part of
+it," replied Buck, making for his horse and swinging into the saddle, an
+example which was followed by the others, including Frenchy.
+
+As they swung off Buck noticed the condition of Frenchy's mount and
+halted. "Yu take that cayuse back an' get Cowan's," he ordered.
+
+"That cayuse is good for Cheyenne--she eats work, an' besides I wants my
+own," laughed Frenchy.
+
+"Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease,"
+volunteered Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him. "Shoo! I had
+a little argument with some feather dusters--th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned
+them up."
+
+"That so?" Asked Buck.
+
+"Yep! They sorter got into th' habit of chasin' me to Las Cruces an'
+forgot to stop."
+
+"How many'd yu get?" Asked Lanky Smith.
+
+"Twelve. Two got away. I got two before th' crowd showed up--that makes
+fo'teen."
+
+"Now th' cavalry'll be huntin' yu," croaked Billy.
+
+"Hunt nothin'! They was in war-paint-think I was a target?--Think I was
+goin' to call off their shots for 'em?"
+
+They relayed at the Barred-Horseshoe and went on their way at the same
+pace. Shortly after leaving the last-named ranch Buck turned to Frenchy
+and asked, "Any of that outfit think they can play poker?"
+
+"Shore. Waffles."
+
+"Does th' reverend Mr. Waffles think so very hard?"
+
+"He shore does."
+
+"Do th' rest of them mavericks think so too?"
+
+"They'd bet their shirts on him."
+
+At this juncture all were startled by a sudden eruption from Billy.
+"Haw! Haw! Haw!" he roared as the drift of Buck's intentions struck him.
+"Haw! Haw! Haw!"
+
+"Here, yu long-winded coyote," yelled Red, banging him over the head
+with his quirt, "If yu don't 'Haw! Haw!' away from my ear I'll make it
+a Wow! Wow! What d'yu mean? Think I am a echo cliff? Yu slabsided
+doodle-bug, yu!"
+
+"G'way, yu crimson topknot, think my head's a hunk of quartz? Fer a
+plugged peso I'd strew yu all over th' scenery!" shouted Billy, feigning
+anger and rubbing his head.
+
+"There ain't no scenery around here," interposed Lanky. "This here
+be-utiful prospect is a sublime conception of th' devil."
+
+"Easy, boy! Them highfalutin' words'il give yu a cramp some day. Yu talk
+like a newly-made sergeant," remarked Skinny.
+
+"He learned them words from the sky-pilot over at El Paso," volunteered
+Hopalong, winking at Red. "He used to amble down th' aisle afore the
+lights was lit so's he could get a front seat. That was all hunky for
+a while, but every time he'd go out to irrigate, that female
+organ-wrastler would seem to call th' music off for his special benefit.
+So in a month he'd sneak in an' freeze to a chair by th' door, an' after
+a while he'd shy like blazes every time he got within eye range of th'
+church."
+
+"Shore. But do yu know what made him get religion all of a sudden? He
+used to hang around on di' outside after th' joint let out an' trail
+along behind di' music-slinger, lookin' like he didn't know what to do
+with his hands. Then when he got woozy one time she up an' told him that
+she had got a nice long letter from her hubby. Then Mr. Lanky hit th'
+trail for Santa Fe so hard that there wasn't hardly none of it left. I
+didn't see him for a whole month," supplied Red innocently.
+
+"Yore shore funny, ain't yu?" sarcastically grunted Lanky. "Why, I can
+tell things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year."
+
+"I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them. Yu ought to
+be ashamed of yoreself."
+
+"Yah!" snorted the aggrieved little man. "I had business over to Santa
+Fe!"
+
+"Shore," endorsed Hopalong. "We've all had business over to Santa Fe.
+Why, about eight years ago I had business--"
+
+"Choke up," interposed Red. "About eight years ago yu was washin' pans
+for cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges. Buck used to larrup yu about
+four times a day eight years ago."
+
+To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where,
+red-faced and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.
+
+"We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang," began Billy for the
+third time.
+
+"For heaven's sake get off that trail!" replied Lanky. "We aint goin' to
+hold 'em up. De-plomacy's th' game."
+
+Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was
+as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in
+his grumbling.
+
+"What's the latest from Abilene way?" Asked Buck of Frenchy.
+
+"Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction," replied the recruit.
+
+"What's that?" Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.
+
+"Why, th' settlers put up barb-wire fence so's the cattle wouldn't get
+on their farms. That would a been all right, for there wasn't much of
+it. But some Britishers who own a couple of big ranches out there got
+smart all of a sudden an' strung wire all along their lines. Punchers
+crossin' th' country would run plumb into a fence an' would have to ride
+a day an' a half, mebbe, afore they found th' corner. Well, naturally,
+when a man has been used to ridin' where he blame pleases an' as
+straight as he pleases he ain't goin' to chase along a five-foot fence
+to Trisco when he wants to get to Waco. So th' punchers got to totin'
+wire-snips, an' when they runs up agin a fence they cuts down half a
+mile or so. Sometimes they'd tie their ropes to a strand an' pull off a
+couple of miles an' then go back after th' rest. Th' ranch bosses sent
+out men to watch th' fences an' told 'em to shoot any festive puncher
+that monkeyed with th' hardware. Well, yu know what happens when a
+puncher gets shot at."
+
+"When fences grow in Texas there'll be th' devil to pay," said Buck. He
+hated to think that some day the freedom of the range would be annulled,
+for he knew that it would be the first blow against the cowboys'
+occupation. When a man's cattle couldn't spread out all over the land he
+wouldn't have to keep so many men. Farms would spring up and the sun of
+the free-and-easy cowboy would slowly set.
+
+"I reckons th' cutters are classed th' same as rustlers," remarked Red
+with a gleam of temper.
+
+"By th' owners, but not by th' punchers; an' it's th' punchers that
+count," replied Frenchy.
+
+"Well, we'll give them a fight," interposed Hopalong, riding up. "When
+it gets so I can't go where I please I'll start on th' warpath. I won't
+buck the cavalry, but I'll keep it busy huntin' for me an' I'll have
+time to 'tend to th' wire-fence men, too. Why, we'll be told we can't
+tote our guns!"
+
+"They're sayin' that now," replied Frenchy. "Up in Buffalo, Smith, who's
+now marshal, makes yu leave 'em with th' bartenders."
+
+"I'd like to see any two-laigged cuss get my guns If I didn't want him
+to!" began Hopalong, indignant at the idea.
+
+"Easy, son," cautioned Buck. "Yu would do what th' rest did because yu
+are a square man. I'm about as hard-headed a puncher as ever straddled
+leather an' I've had to use my guns purty considerable, but I reckons if
+any decent marshal asked me to cache them in a decent way, why, I'd
+do it. An' let me brand somethin' on yore mind--I've heard of Smith of
+Buffalo, an' he's mighty nifty with his hands. He don't stand off an'
+tell yu to unload yore lead-ranch, but he ambles up close an' taps yu
+on yore shirt; if yu makes a gunplay he naturally knocks yu clean across
+th' room an' unloads yu afore yu gets yore senses back. He weighs about
+a hundred an' eighty an' he's shore got sand to burn."
+
+"Yah! When I makes a gun play she plays! I'd look nice in Abilene or
+Paso or Albuquerque without my guns, wouldn't I? Just because I totes
+them in plain sight I've got to hand 'em over to some liquor-wrastler? I
+reckons not! Some hip-pocket skunk would plug me afore I could wink. I'd
+shore look nice loping around a keno layout without my guns, in th'
+same town with some cuss huntin' me, wouldn't I? A whole lot of good a
+marshal would a done Jimmy, an' didn't Harris get his from a cur in th'
+dark?" shouted Hopalong, angered by the prospect.
+
+"We're talkin' about Buffalo, where everybody has to hang up their
+guns," replied Buck. "An' there's th' law--"
+
+"To blazes with th' law!" whooped Hopalong in Red's ear as he
+unfastened the cinch of Red's saddle and at the same time stabbing that
+unfortunate's mount with his spurs, thereby causing a hasty separation
+of the two. When Red had picked himself up and things had quieted down
+again the subject was changed, and several hours later they rode into
+Muddy Wells, a town with a little more excuse for its existence than
+Buckskin. The wells were in an arid valley west of Guadaloupe Pass, and
+were not only muddy but more or less alkaline.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER. X. Peace Hath its Victories
+
+
+As they neared the central group of buildings they heard a hilarious
+and assertive song which sprang from the door and windows of the main
+saloon. It was in jig time, rollicking and boisterous, but the words had
+evidently been improvised for the occasion, as they clashed immediately
+with those which sprang to the minds of the outfit, although they could
+not be clearly distinguished. As they approached nearer and finally
+dismounted, however, the words became recognizable and the visitors were
+at once placed in harmony with the air of jovial recklessness by the
+roaring of the verses and the stamping of the time.
+
+     Oh we're red-hot cow-punchers playin' on our luck,
+     An' there ain't a proposition that we won't buck:
+     From sunrise to sunset we've ridden on the range,
+     But now we're oft for a howlin' change.
+
+CHORUS
+
+     Laugh a little, sing a little, all th' day;
+     Play a little, drink a little--we can pay;
+     Ride a little, dig a little an' rich we'll grow.
+     Oh, we're that bunch from th' O-Bar-O!
+
+     Oh, there was a little tenderfoot an' he had a little gun,
+     An' th' gun an' him went a-trailin' up some fun.
+     They ambles up to Santa Fe' to find a quiet game,
+     An' now they're planted with some more of th' same!
+
+As Hopalong, followed by the others, pushed open the door and entered
+he took up the chorus with all the power of Texan lungs and even Billy
+joined in. The sight that met their eyes was typical of the men and the
+mood and the place. Leaning along the walls, lounging on the table and
+straddling chairs with their forearms crossed on the backs were nine
+cowboys, ranging from old twenty to young fifty in years, and all were
+shouting the song and keeping time with their hands and feet.
+
+In the center of the room was a large man dancing a fair buck-and-wing
+to the time so uproariously set by his companions. Hatless,
+neck-kerchief loose, holsters flapping, chaps rippling out and close,
+spurs clinking and perspiration streaming from his tanned face, danced
+Bigfoot Baker as though his life depended on speed and noise. Bottles
+shook and the air was fogged with smoke and dust. Suddenly, his belt
+slipping and letting his chaps fall around his ankles, he tripped and
+sat down heavily. Gasping for breath, he held out his hand and received
+a huge plug of tobacco, for Bigfoot had won a contest.
+
+Shouts of greeting were hurled at the newcomers and many questions were
+fired at them regarding "th' latest from th' Hills." Waffles made a rush
+for Hopalong, but fell over Big-foot's feet and all three were piled up
+in a heap. All were beaming with good nature, for they were as so many
+school boys playing truant. Prosaic cow-punching was relegated to the
+rear and they looked eagerly forward to their several missions. Frenchy
+told of the barb-wire fence war and of the new regulations of "Smith
+of Buffalo" regarding cow-punchers' guns, and from the caustic remarks
+explosively given it was plain to be seen what a wire fence could
+expect, should one be met with, and there were many imaginary Smiths put
+hors de combat.
+
+Kid Morris, after vainly trying to slip a blue-bottle fly inside of
+Hopalong's shirt, gave it up and slammed his hand on Hopalong's back
+instead, crying: "Well, I'll be doggoned if here ain't Hopalong! How's
+th' missus an' th' deacon an' all th' folks to hum? I hears yu an'
+Frenchy's reg'lar poker fiends!"
+
+"Oh, we plays onct in a while, but we don't want none of yore dust.
+Yu'll shore need it all afore th' Hills get through with yu," laughingly
+replied Hopalong.
+
+"Oh, yore shore kind! But I was a sort of reckonin' that we needs some
+more. Perfesser P. D. Q. Waffles is our poker man an' he shore can clean
+out anything I ever saw. Mebbe yu fellers feel reckless-like an' would
+like to make a pool," he cried, addressing the outfit of the Bar-20,
+"an' back yore boss of th' full house agin ourn?"
+
+Red turned slowly around and took a full minute in which to size the Kid
+up. Then he snorted and turned his back again.
+
+The Kid stared at him in outraged dignity. "Well, what say!" he softly
+murmured. Then he leaped forward and walloped Red on the back.
+"Hey, yore royal highness!" he shouted. "Yu-yu-yu-oh, hang it-yu! Yu
+slab-sided, ring-boned, saddle-galled shade of a coyote, do yu think I'm
+only meanderin' in th' misty vales of-of--"
+
+Suggestions intruded from various sources. "Hades?" offered Hopalong.
+"Cheyenne?" Murmured Johnny. "Misty mistiness of misty?" tentatively
+supplied Waffles.
+
+Red turned around again. "Better come up an' have somethin'," he
+sympathetically invited, wiping away an imaginary tear.
+
+"An' he's so young!" sobbed Frenchy.
+
+"An' so fair!" wailed Tex.
+
+"An' so ornery!" howled Lefty, throwing his arms around the discomfited
+youngster. Other arms went around him, and out of the sobbing mob could
+be heard earnest and heart-felt cussing, interspersed with imperative
+commands, which were gradually obeyed.
+
+The Kid straightened up his wearing apparel. "Come on, yu locoed--"
+
+"Angels?" Queried Charley Lane, interrupting him. "Sweet things?"
+breathed Hopalong in hopeful expectancy.
+
+"Oh, blast it!" yelled the Kid as he ran out into the street to escape
+the persecution.
+
+"Good Kid, all right," remarked Waffles. "He'll go around an' lick some
+Mexican an' come back sweet as honey."
+
+"Did somebody say poker?" Asked Bigfoot, digressing from the Kid.
+
+"Oh, yu fellows don't want no poker. Of course yu don't. Poker's mighty
+uncertain," replied Red.
+
+"Yah!" exclaimed Tex Le Blanc, pushing forward. "I'll just bet yu to
+a standstill that Waffles an' Salvation'll round up all th' festive
+simoleons yu can get together! An' I'll throw in Frenchy's hat as an
+inducement."
+
+"Well, if yore shore set on it make her a pool," replied Red, "an' th'
+winners divide with their outfit. Here's a starter," he added, tossing a
+buckskin bag on the table. "Come on, pile 'em up."
+
+The crowd divided as the players seated themselves at the table, the
+O-Bar-O crowd grouping themselves behind their representatives; the
+Bar-20 behind theirs. A deck of cards was brought and the game was on.
+
+Red, true to his nature, leaned back in a corner, where, hands on hips,
+he awaited any hostile demonstration on the part of the O-Bar-O; then,
+suddenly remembering, he looked half ashamed of his warlike position and
+became a peaceful citizen again. Buck leaned with his broad back against
+the bar, talking over his shoulder to the bartender, but watching
+Tenspot Davis, who was assiduously engaged in juggling a handful of
+Mexican dollars.
+
+Up by the door Bigfoot Baker, elated at winning the buck-and-wing
+contest, was endeavoring to learn a new step, while his late rival was
+drowning his defeat at Buck's elbow. Lefty Allen was softly singing a
+Mexican love song, humming when the words would not come. At the
+table could be heard low-spoken card terms and good-natured banter,
+interspersed with the clink of gold and silver and the soft pat-pat
+of the onlookers' feet unconsciously keeping time to Lefty's song.
+Notwithstanding the grim assertiveness of belts full of .45's and the
+peeping handles of long-barreled Colts, set off with picturesque chaps,
+sombreros and tinkling spurs, the scene was one of peaceful content and
+good-fellowship.
+
+"Ugh!" grunted Johnny, walking over to Red and informing that person
+that he, Red, was a worm-eaten prune and that for half a wink he,
+Johnny, would prove it. Red grabbed him by the seat of his corduroys
+and the collar of his shirt and helped him outside, where they strolled
+about, taking pot shots at whatever their fancy suggested.
+
+Down the street in a cloud of dust rumbled the Las Cruces-El Paso stage
+and the two punchers went up to meet it. Raw furrows showed in the
+woodwork, one mule was missing and the driver and guard wore fresh
+bandages. A tired tenderfoot leaped out with a sigh of relief and hunted
+for his baggage, which he found to be generously perforated. Swearing
+at the God-forsaken land where a man had to fight highwaymen and
+Indians inside of half a day he grumblingly lugged his valise toward a
+forbidding-looking shack which was called a hotel.
+
+The driver released his teams and then turned to Red. "Hullo, old hoss,
+how's th' gang?" he asked genially. "We've had a heck of a time this
+yere trip," he went on without waiting for Red to reply. "Five miles out
+of Las Cruces we stood off a son-of-a-gun that wanted th' dude's wealth.
+Then just this side of the San Andre foothills we runs into a bunch of
+young bucks who turned us off this yere way an' gave us a runnin' fight
+purty near all th' way. I'm a whole lot farther from Paso now than I
+was when I started, an seem as I lost a jack I'll be some time gittin'
+there. Yu don't happen to sabe a jack I can borrow, do yu?"
+
+"I don't know about no jack, but I'll rope yu a bronch," offered Red,
+winking at Johnny.
+
+"I'll pull her myself before I'll put dynamite in di' traces," replied
+the driver. "Yu fellers might amble back a ways with me--them buddin'
+warriors'll be layin' for me."
+
+"We shore will," responded Johnny eagerly. "There's nine of us now an'
+there'll be nine more an' a cook to-morrow, mebby."
+
+"Gosh, yu grows some," replied the guard. "Eighteen'll be a plenty for
+them glory hunters."
+
+"We won't be able to," contradicted Red, "for things are peculiar."
+
+At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the tenderfoot, who
+sported a new and cheap sombrero and also a belt and holster complete.
+
+"Will you gentlemen join me?" He asked, turning to Red and nodding at
+the saloon. "I am very dry and much averse to drinking alone."
+
+"Why, shore," responded Red heartily, wishing to put the stranger at
+ease.
+
+The game was running about even as they entered and Lefty Allen was
+singing "The Insult," the rich tenor softening the harshness of the
+surroundings.
+
+
+   I've swum th' Colorado where she's almost lost to view, I've braced
+        th' Jaro layouts in Cheyenne;
+
+   I've fought for muddy water with a howlin' bunch of Sioux, An'
+        swallowed hot tamales, an' cayenne.
+
+   I've rid a pitchin' broncho 'till th' sky was underneath, I've
+        tackled every desert in th' land;
+
+   I've sampled XXXX whiskey 'till I couldn't hardly see, An' dallied
+        with th' quicksands of the Grande.
+
+   I've argued with th' marshals of a half-a-dozen burgs, I've been
+        dragged free an' fancy by a cow;
+
+   I've had three years' campaignin' with th' fightin', bitin' Ninth,
+        An' never lost my temper 'till right now.
+
+   I've had the yaller fever an I've been shot full of holes, I've
+        grabbed an army mule plumb by its tail;
+
+   I've never been so snortin', really highfalutin' mad As when y'u up
+        an' hands me ginger ale!
+
+Hopalong laughed joyously at a remark made by Waffles and the stranger
+glanced quickly at him. His merry, boyish face, underlined by a
+jaw showing great firmness and set with an expression of aggressive
+self-reliance, impressed the stranger and he remarked to Red, who
+lounged lazily near him, that he was surprised to see such a face on so
+young a man and he asked who the player was.
+
+"Oh, his name's Hopalong Cassidy," answered Red. "He's di' cuss that
+raised that ruction down in Mexico last spring. Rode his cayuse in a
+saloon and played with the loungers and had to shoot one before he got
+out. When he did get out he had to fight a whole bunch of Mexicans an'
+even potted their marshal, who had di' drop on him. Then he returned and
+visited the marshal about a month later, took his gun away from him
+an' then cut th' cards to see if he was a prisoner or not. He's a shore
+funny cuss."
+
+The tenderfoot gasped his amazement. "Are you not fooling with me?" He
+asked.
+
+"Tell him yu came after that five hundred dollars reward and see,"
+answered Red goodnaturedly.
+
+"Holy smoke!" shouted Waffles as Hopalong won his sixth consecutive pot.
+"Did yu ever see such luck?" Frenchy grinned and some time later raked
+in his third. Salvation then staked his last cent against Hopalong's
+flush and dropped out.
+
+Tenspot flipped to Waffles the money he had been juggling and Lefty
+searched his clothes for wealth. Buck, still leaning against the bar,
+grinned and winked at Johnny, who was pouring hair-raising tales into
+the receptive ears of the stranger. Thereupon Johnny confided to his
+newly found acquaintance the facts about the game, nearly causing that
+person to explode with delight.
+
+Waffles pushed back his chair, stood up and stretched. At the finish
+of a yawn he grinned at his late adversary. "I'm all in, yu old
+son-of-a-gun. Yu shore can play draw. I'm goin' to try yu again some
+time. I was beat fair an' square an' I ain't got no kick comin', none
+whatever," he remarked, as he shook hands with Hopalong.
+
+"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed the Kid as he sauntered
+in. One cheek was slightly swollen and his clothes shed dust at every
+step. "Who wins?" he inquired, not having heard Waffles.
+
+"They did, blast it!" exploded Bigfoot.
+
+One of the Kid's peculiarities was revealed in the unreasoning and
+hasty conclusions he arrived at. From no desire to imply unfairness,
+but rather because of his bitterness against failure of any kind and his
+loyalty to Waffles, came his next words:
+
+"Mebby they skinned yu."
+
+Like a flash Waffles sprang before him, his hand held up, palm out. "He
+don't mean nothin'--he's only a ignorant kid!" he cried.
+
+Buck smiled and wrested the Colt from Johnny's ever-ready hand. "Here's
+another," he said. Red laughed softly and rolled Johnny on the floor.
+"Yu jackass," he whispered, "don't yu know better'n to make a gun-play
+when we needs them all?"
+
+"What are we goin' to do?" Asked Tex, glancing at the bulging pockets of
+Hopalong's chaps.
+
+"We're goin' to punch cows again, that's what we're to do," answered
+Bigfoot dismally.
+
+"An' whose are we goin' to punch? We can't go back to the old man,"
+grumbled Tex.
+
+Salvation looked askance at Buck and then at the others. "Mebby," he
+began, "Mebby we kin git a job on th' Bar-20." Then turning to Buck
+again he bluntly asked, "Are yu short of punchers?"
+
+"Well, I might use some," answered the foreman, hesitating. "But
+ I ain't got only one cook, an'----"
+
+"We'll git yu th' cook all O.K.," interrupted Charley Lane vehemently.
+"Hi, yu cook!" he shouted, "amble in here an' git a rustle on!"
+
+There was no reply, and after waiting for a minute he and Waffles went
+into the rear room, from which there immediately issued great chunks
+of profanity and noise. They returned looking pugnacious and disgusted,
+with a wildly fighting man who was more full of liquor than was the
+bottle which he belligerently waved.
+
+"This here animated distillery what yu sees is our cook," said Waffles.
+"We eats his grub, nobody else. If he gits drunk that's our funeral; but
+he won't get drunk! If yu wants us to punch for yu say so an' we does;
+if yu don't, we don't."
+
+"Well," replied Buck thoughtfully, "mebby I can use yu." Then with a
+burst of recklessness he added, "Yes, if I lose my job! But yu might
+sober that Mexican up if yu let him fall in th' horse trough."
+
+As the procession wended its way on its mission of wet charity, carrying
+the cook in any manner at all, Frenchy waved his long lost sombrero
+at Buck, who stood in the door, and shouted, "Yu old son-of-a-gun, I'm
+proud to know yu!"
+
+Buck smiled and snapped his watch shut "Time to amble," he said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. Holding the Claim
+
+
+"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed Waffles, sinking the
+branding-iron in the flank of a calf. The scene was one of great
+activity and hilarity. Several fires were burning near the huge corral
+and in them half a dozen irons were getting hot. Three calves were being
+held down for the brand of the "Bar-20" and two more were being dragged
+up on their sides by the ropes of the cowboys, the proud cow-ponies
+showing off their accomplishments at the expense of the calves'
+feelings. In the corral the dust arose in steady clouds as calf after
+calf was "cut out" by the ropers and dragged out to get "tagged." Angry
+cows fought valiantly for their terrorized offspring, but always to no
+avail, for the hated rope of some perspiring and dust-grimed rider sent
+them crashing to earth. Over the plain were herds of cattle and groups
+of madly riding cowboys, and two cook wagons were stalled a short
+distance from the corral. The round-up of the Bar-20 was taking place,
+and each of the two outfits tried to outdo the other and each individual
+strove for a prize. The man who cut out and dragged to the fire the most
+calves in three days could leave for the Black Hills at the expiration
+of that time, the rest to follow as soon as they could.
+
+In this contest Hopalong Cassidy led his nearest rival, Red Connors,
+both of whom were Bar-20 men, by twenty cut-outs, and there remained but
+half an hour more in which to compete. As Red disappeared into the sea
+of tossing horns Hopalong dashed out with a whoop.
+
+ "Hi, yu trellis-built rack of bones, come along there! Whoop!" he
+yelled, turning the prisoner over to the squad by the fire.
+
+"Chalk up this here insignificant wart of cross-eyed perversity: an' how
+many?" He called as he galloped back to the corral.
+
+"One ninety-eight," announced Buck, blowing the sand from the tally
+sheet. "That's shore goin' some," he remarked to himself.
+
+When the calf sprang up it was filled with terror, rage and pain, and
+charged at Billy from the rear as that pessimistic soul was leaning over
+and poking his finger at a somber horned-toad. "Wow!" he yelled as his
+feet took huge steps up in the air, each one strictly on its own course.
+"Woof!" he grunted in the hot sand as he arose on his hands and knees
+and spat alkali.
+
+"What's s'matter?" He asked dazedly of Johnny Nelson. "Ain't it funny!"
+he yelled sarcastically as he beheld Johnny holding his sides with
+laughter. "Ain't it funny!" he repeated belligerently. "Of course that
+four-laigged, knock-kneed, wobblin' son-of-a-Piute had to cut me out.
+They wasn't nobody in sight but Billy! Why didn't yu say he was comin'?
+Think I can see four ways to once? Why didn't--" At this point Red
+cantered up with a calf, and by a quick maneuver, drew the taut rope
+against the rear of Billy's knees, causing that unfortunate to sit down
+heavily. As he arose choking with broken-winded profanity Red dragged
+the animal to the fire, and Billy forgot his grievances in the press of
+labor.
+
+"How many, Buck?" Asked Red.
+
+"One-eighty."
+
+"How does she stand?"
+
+"Yore eighteen to th' bad," replied the foreman. "Th' son-of-a-gun!"
+marveled Red, riding off.
+
+Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the
+corner eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
+
+"Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow," he
+announced as he turned it over to the branding man. Buck made a tally in
+a separate column and released the animal. "Hullo, Red! Workin'?" Asked
+Hopalong of his rival.
+
+"Some, yu little cuss," answered Red with all the good nature in the
+world. Hopalong was his particular "side partner," and he could lose to
+him with the best of feelings.
+
+"Yu looks so nice an' cool, an' clean, I didn't know," responded
+Hopalong, eyeing a streak of sweat and dust which ran from Red's eyes to
+his chin and then on down his neck.
+
+"What yu been doin'? Plowin' with yore nose?" Returned Red, smiling
+blandly at his friend's appearance.
+
+"Yah!" snorted Hopalong, wheeling toward the corral. "Come on, yu
+pie-eatin' doodle-bug; I'll beat yu to th' gate!"
+
+The two ponies sent showers of sand all over Billy, who eyed them
+in pugnacious disgust. "Of all th' locoed imps that ever made life
+miserable fer a man, them's th' worst! Is there any piece of fool
+nonsense they hain't harnessed me with?" He beseeched of Buck. "Is there
+anything they hain't done to me? They hides my liquor; they stuffs th'
+sweat band of my hat with rope; they ties up my pants; they puts water
+in. My boots an' toads in my bunk--ain't they never goin' to get sane?"
+
+"Oh, they're only kids--they can't help it," offered Buck. "Didn't they
+hobble my cayuse when I was on him an' near bust my neck?"
+
+Hopalong interrupted the conversation by driving up another calf, and
+Buck, glancing at his watch, declared the contest at an end.
+
+"Yu wins," he remarked to the newcomer. "An' now yu get scarce or Billy
+will shore straddle yore nerves. He said as how he was goin' to get
+square on yu to-night."
+
+"I didn't, neither, Hoppy!" earnestly contradicted Billy, who bad
+visions of a night spent in torment as a reprisal for such a threat.
+"Honest I didn't, did I, Johnny?" He asked appealingly.
+
+"Yu shore did," lied Johnny, winking at Red, who had just ridden up.
+
+"I don't know what yore talkin' about, but yu shore did," replied Red.
+
+"If yu did," grinned Hopalong, "I'll shore make yu hard to find. Come
+on, fellows," he said; "grub's ready. Where's Frenchy?"
+
+"Over chewin' th' rag with Waffles about his hat--he's lost it again,"
+answered Red. "He needs a guardian fer that bonnet. Th' Kid an'
+Salvation has jammed it in th' corral fence an' Waffles has to stand fer
+it."
+
+"Let's put it in th' grub wagon an see him cuss cookie," suggested
+Hopalong.
+
+"Shore," indorsed Johnny; Cookie'll feed him bum grub for a week to get
+square.
+
+Hopalong and Johnny ambled over to the corral and after some trouble
+located the missing sombrero, which they carried to the grub wagon and
+hid in the flour barrel. Then they went over by the excited owner and
+dropped a few remarks about how strange the cook was acting and how he
+was watching Frenchy.
+
+Frenchy jumped at the bait and tore over to the wagon, where he and the
+cook spent some time in mutual recrimination. Hopalong nosed around and
+finally dug up the hat, white as new-fallen snow.
+
+"Here's a hat--found it in th' dough barrel," he announced, handing it
+over to Frenchy, who received it in open-mouthed stupefaction.
+
+"Yu pie-makin' pirate! Yu didn't know where my lid was, did yu! Yu
+cross-eyed lump of hypocrisy!" yelled Frenchy, dusting off the flour
+with one full-armed swing on the cook's face, driving it into that
+unfortunate's nose and eyes and mouth. "Yu white-washed Chink, yu--rub
+yore face with water an' yu've got pancakes."
+
+"Hey! What you doin'!" yelled the cook, kicking the spot where he had
+last seen Frenchy. "Don't yu know better'n that!"
+
+"Yu live close to yoreself or I'll throw yu so high th' sun'll duck,"
+replied Frenchy, a smile illuminating his face.
+
+"Hey, cookie," remarked Hopalong confidentially, "I know who put up this
+joke on yu. Yu ask Billy who hid th' hat," suggested the tease. "Here he
+comes now--see how queer he looks."
+
+"Th' mournful Piute," ejaculated the cook. "I'll shore make him wish
+he'd kept on his own trail. I'll flavor his slush [coffee] with year-old
+dish-rags!"
+
+At this juncture Billy ambled up, keeping his weather eye peeled for
+trouble. "Who's a dish-rag?" He queried. The cook mumbled something
+about crazy hens not knowing when to quit cackling and climbed up in his
+wagon. And that night Billy swore off drinking coffee.
+
+When the dawn of the next day broke, Hopalong was riding toward the
+Black Hills, leaving Billy to untie himself as best he might.
+
+The trip was uneventful and several weeks later he entered Red Dog, a
+rambling shanty town, one of those western mushrooms that sprang up in a
+night. He took up his stand at the Miner's Rest, and finally secured
+six claims at the cost of nine hundred hard-earned dollars, a fund
+subscribed by the outfits, as it was to be a partnership affair.
+
+He rode out to a staked-off piece of hillside and surveyed his purchase,
+which consisted of a patch of ground, six holes, six piles of dirt and
+a log hut. The holes showed that the claims bad been tried and found
+wanting.
+
+He dumped his pack of tools and provisions, which he had bought on the
+way up, and lugged them into the cabin. After satisfying his curiosity
+he went outside and sat down for a smoke, figuring up in his mind how
+much gold he could carry on a horse. Then, as he realized that he could
+get a pack mule to carry the surplus, he became aware of a strange
+presence near at hand and looked up into the muzzle of a Sharp's rifle.
+He grasped the situation in a flash and calmly blew several heavy smoke
+rings around the frowning barrel.
+
+"Well?" He asked slowly.
+
+"Nice day, stranger," replied the man with the rifle, "but don't yu
+reckon yu've made a mistake?"
+
+Hopalong glanced at the number burned on a near-by stake and carelessly
+blew another smoke ring. He was waiting for the gun to waver.
+
+"No, I reckons not," he answered. "Why?"
+
+"Well, I'll jest tell yu since yu asks. This yere claim's mine an' I'm
+a reg'lar terror, I am. That's why; an' seein' as it is, yu better amble
+some."
+
+Hopalong glanced down the street and saw an interested group watching
+him, which only added to his rage for being in such a position. Then
+he started to say something, faltered and stared with horror at a point
+several feet behind his opponent. The "terror" sprang to one side in
+response to Hop-along's expression, as if fearing that a snake or some
+such danger threatened him. As he alighted in his new position he fell
+forward and Hopalong slid a smoking Colt in its holster.
+
+Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim. Hopalong
+reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle, with which
+he covered their advance.
+
+"Anything yu want?" he shouted savagely.
+
+The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two others,
+but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a move that
+would screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a warning shout.
+Then the two held up their hands and advanced.
+
+"We wants to git Dan," called out one of them, nodding at the prostrate
+figure.
+
+"Come ahead," replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
+
+
+They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those
+whom they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who
+only smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a
+siege, should one come. He had one hundred rounds of ammunition and
+provisions enough for two weeks, with the assurance of reinforcements
+long before that time would expire. He cut several rough loopholes and
+laid out his weapons for quick handling. He knew that he could stop any
+advance during the day and planned only for night attacks. How long
+he could go without sleep did not bother him, because he gave it no
+thought, as he was accustomed to short naps and could awaken at will or
+at the slightest sound.
+
+As dusk merged into dark he crept forth and collected several handfuls
+of dry twigs, which he scattered around the hut, as the cracking of
+these would warn him of an approach. Then he went in and went to sleep.
+
+He awoke at daylight after a good night's rest, and feasted on canned
+beans and peaches. Then he tossed the cans out of the door and shoved
+his hat out. Receiving no response he walked out and surveyed the town
+at his feet. A sheepish grin spread over his face as he realized that
+there was no danger. Several red-shirted men passed by him on their way
+to town, and one, a grizzled veteran of many gold camps, stopped and
+sauntered up to him.
+
+"Mornin'," said Hopalong.
+
+"Mornin'," replied the stranger. "I thought I'd drop in an' say that I
+saw that gun-play of yourn yesterday. Yu ain't got no reason to look fer
+a rush. This camp is half white men an' half bullies, an' th' white men
+won't stand fer no play like that. Them fellers that jest passed are
+neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs them. But yu
+wants to look out fer th' joints in th' town. Guess this business is out
+of yore line," he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
+
+"She shore is, but I'm here to stay. Got tired of punchin' an' reckoned
+I'd get rich." Here he smiled and glanced at the hole. "How're yu makin'
+out?" He asked.
+
+"'Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's so
+high. Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents."
+
+Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet. "Any
+marshal in this burg?"
+
+"Yep. But he's one of th' gang. No good, an' drunk half th' time an'
+half drunk th' rest. Better come down an' have something," invited the
+miner.
+
+"I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door," replied
+the puncher.
+
+"Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till yu
+gits back. He can hold her all right. Hey, Jake!" he called to a man who
+was some hundred paces distant; "Come down here an' keep house till we
+gits back, will yu?"
+
+The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and his
+newly found friend started for the town.
+
+They entered the "Miner's Rest" and Hopalong fixed the room in his mind
+with one swift glance. Three men--and they looked like the crowd he had
+stopped before--were playing poker at a table near the window. Hopalong
+leaned with his back to the bar and talked, with the players always in
+sight.
+
+Soon the door opened and a bewhiskered, heavy-set man tramped in, and
+walking up to Hopalong, looked him over.
+
+"Huh," he sneered, "Yu are th' gent with th' festive guns that plugged
+Dan, ain't yu?"
+
+Hopalong looked at him in the eyes and quietly replied:
+
+"An' who th' deuce are yu?"
+
+The stranger's eyes blazed and his face wrinkled with rage as he
+aggressively shoved his jaw close to Hopalong's face.
+
+"Yu runt, I'm a better man than yu even if yu do wear hair pants,"
+referring to Hopalong's chaps. "Yu cow-wrastlers make me tired, an' I'm
+goin' to show yu that this town is too good for you. Yu can say it right
+now that yu are a ornery, game-leg--"
+
+Hopalong smashed his insulter squarely between the eyes with all the
+power of his sinewy body behind the blow, knocking him in a heap under
+the table. Then he quickly glanced at the card players and saw a hostile
+movement. His gun was out in a flash and he covered the trio as he
+walked up to them. Never in all his life had he felt such a desire to
+kill. His eyes were diamond points of accumulated fury, and those whom
+he faced quailed before him.
+
+"Yu scum! Draw, please draw! Pull yore guns an' gimme my chance! Three
+to one, an' I'll lay my guns here," he said, placing them on the bar and
+removing his hands. "'Nearer My God to Thee' is purty appropriate fer
+yu just now! Yu seem to be a-scared of yore own guns. Git down on yore
+dirty knees an' say good an' loud that yu eats dirt! Shout out that
+yu are too currish to live with decent men," he said, even-toned and
+distinct, his voice vibrant with passion as he took up his Colts. "Get
+down!" he repeated, shoving the weapons forward and pulling back the
+hammers.
+
+The trio glanced at each other, and all three dropped to their knees and
+repeated in venomous hatred the words Hopalong said for them.
+
+"Now git! An' if I sees yu when I leaves I'll send yu after yore friend.
+I'll shoot on sight now. Git!" He escorted them to the door and kicked
+the last one out.
+
+His miner friend still leaned against the bar and looked his approval.
+
+"Well done, youngster! But yu wants to look out--that man," pointing to
+the now groping victim of Hopalong's blow, "is th' marshal of this town.
+He or his pals will get yu if yu don't watch th' corners."
+
+Hopalong walked over to the marshal, jerked him to his feet and slammed
+him against the bar. Then he tore the cheap badge from its place and
+threw it on the floor. Reaching down, he drew the marshal's revolver
+from its holster and shoved it in its owner's hand.
+
+"Yore th' marshal of this place an' it's too good for me, but yore gain'
+to pick up that tin lie," pointing at the badge, "an' yore goin' to do
+it right now. Then yore gain' to get kicked out of that door, an' if
+yu stops runnin' while I can see yu I'll fill yu so full of holes yu'll
+catch cold. Yore a sumptious marshal, yu are! Yore th' snortingest ki-yi
+that ever stuck its tail atween its laigs, yu are. Yu pop-eyed wall
+flower, yu wants to peep to yoreself or some papoose'll slide yu over
+th' Divide so fast yu won't have time to grease yore pants. Pick up that
+license-tag an' let me see you perculate so lively that yore back'll
+look like a ten-cent piece in five seconds. Flit!"
+
+The marshal, dazed and bewildered, stooped and fumbled for the badge.
+Then he stood up and glanced at the gun in his hand and at the eager man
+before him. He slid the weapon in his belt and drew his hand across his
+fast-closing eyes. Cursing streaks of profanity, he staggered to the
+door and landed in a heap in the street from the force of Hopalong's
+kick. Struggling to his feet, he ran unsteadily down the block and
+disappeared around a corner.
+
+The bartender, cool and unperturbed, pushed out three glasses on his
+treat: "I've seen yu afore, up in Cheyenne--'member? How's yore friend
+Red?" He asked as he filled the glasses with the best the house
+afforded.
+
+"Well, shore 'nuff! Glad to see yu, Jimmy! What yu doin' away off here?"
+Asked Hopalong, beginning to feel at home.
+
+"Oh, jest filterin' round like. I'm awful glad to see yu--this yere wart
+of a town needs siftin' out. It was only last week I was wishin' one of
+yore bunch 'ud show up--that ornament yu jest buffaloed shore raised th'
+devil in here, an' I wished I had somebody to prospect his anatomy for a
+lead mine. But he's got a tough gang circulating with him. Ever hear of
+Dutch Shannon or Blinky Neary? They's with him."
+
+"Dutch Shannon? Nope," he replied.
+
+"Bad eggs, an' not a-carin' how they gits square. Th' feller yu' salted
+yesterday was a bosom friend of th' marshal's, an' he passed in his
+chips last night."
+
+"So?"
+
+"Yep. Bought a bottle of ready-made nerve an' went to his own funeral.
+Aristotle Smith was lookin' fer him up in Cheyenne last year. Aristotle
+said he'd give a century fer five minutes' palaver with him, but he
+shied th' town an' didn't come back. Yu know Aristotle, don't yu? He's
+th' geezer that made fame up to Poison Knob three years ago. He used to
+go to town ridin' astride a log on th' lumber flume. Made four miles in
+six minutes with th' promise of a ruction when he stopped. Once when
+he was loaded he tried to ride back th' same way he came, an' th'
+first thing he knowed he was three miles farther from his supper an'
+a-slippin' down that valley like he wanted to go somewhere. He swum out
+at Potter's Dam an' it took him a day to walk back. But he didn't make
+that play again, because he was frequently sober, an' when he wasn't
+he'd only stand off an' swear at th' slide."
+
+"That's Aristotle, all hunk. He's th' chap that used to play checkers
+with Deacon Rawlins. They used empty an' loaded shells for men, an' when
+they got a king they'd lay one on its side. Sometimes they'd jar th'
+board an' they'd all be kings an' then they'd have a cussin' match,"
+replied Hopalong, once more restored to good humor.
+
+"Why," responded Jimmy, "he counted his wealth over twice by mistake an'
+shore raised a howl when he went to blow it--thought he's been robbed,
+an' laid behind th' houses fer a week lookin' fer th' feller that done
+it."
+
+"I've heard of that cuss--he shore was th' limit. What become of him?"
+Asked the miner.
+
+"He ambled up to Laramie an' stuck his head in th' window of that joint
+by th' plaza an' hollered 'Fire,' an' they did. He was shore a good
+feller, all th' same," answered the bartender. Hopalong laughed and
+started for the door. Turning around he looked at his miner friend and
+asked: "Comin' along? I'm goin' back now."
+
+"Nope. Reckon I'll hit th' tiger a whirl. I'll stop in when I passes."
+
+"All right. So long," replied Hopalong, slipping out of the door and
+watching for trouble. There was no opposition shown him, and he arrived
+at his claim to find Jake in a heated argument with another of the gang.
+
+"Here he comes now," he said as Hopalong walked up. "Tell him what yu
+said to me."
+
+"I said yu made a mistake," said the other, turning to the cowboy in a
+half apologetic manner.
+
+"An' what else?" Insisted Jake.
+
+"Why, ain't that all?" Asked the claim-jumper's friend in feigned
+surprise, wishing that he had kept quiet.
+
+"Well I reckons it is if yu can't back up yore words," responded Jake in
+open contempt.
+
+Hopalong grabbed the intruder by the collar of his shirt and hauled him
+off the claim. "Yu keep off this, understand? I just kicked yore marshal
+out in th' street, an' I'll pay yu th' next call. If yu rambles in range
+of my guns yu'll shore get in th' way of a slug. Yu an' yore gang wants
+to browse on th' far side of th' range or yu'll miss a sunrise some
+mornin'. Scoot!"
+
+Hopalong turned to his companion and smiled. "What'd he say?" He asked
+genially.
+
+"Oh, he jest shot off his mouth a little. They's all no good. I've
+collided with lots of them all over this country. They can't face a good
+man an' keep their nerve. What'd yu say to th' marshal?"
+
+"I told him what he was an' threw him outen th' street," replied
+Hopalong. "In about two weeks we'll have a new marshal an' he'll shore
+be a dandy."
+
+"Yes? Why don't yu take th' job yoreself? We're with yu."
+
+"Better man comin'. Ever hear of Buck Peters or Red Connors of th'
+Bar-20, Texas?"
+
+"Buck Peters? Seems to me I have. Did he punch fer th' Tin-Cup up in
+Montana, 'bout twenty years back?"
+
+"Shore! Him and Frenchy McAllister punched all over that country an'
+they used to paint Cheyenne, too," replied Hopalong, eagerly.
+
+"I knows him, then. I used to know Frenchy, too. Are they comin' up
+here?"
+
+"Yes," responded Hopalong, struggling with another can while waiting for
+the fire to catch up. "Better have some grub with me--don't like to eat
+alone," invited the cowboy, the reaction of his late rage swinging him
+to the other extreme.
+
+When their tobacco had got well started at the close of the meal and
+content had taken possession of them Hopalong laughed quietly and
+finally spoke:
+
+"Did yu ever know Aristotle Smith when yu was up in Montana?"
+
+"Did I! Well, me an' Aristotle prospected all through that country till
+he got so locoed I had to watch him fer fear he'd blow us both up. He
+greased th' fryin' pan with dynamite one night, an' we shore had to eat
+jerked meat an' canned stuff all th' rest of that trip. What made yu
+ask? Is he comin' up too?"
+
+"No, I reckons not. Jimmy, th' bartender, said that he cashed in up
+at Laramie. Wasn't he th' cuss that built that boat out there on th'
+Arizona desert because he was scared that a flood might come? Th' sun
+shore warped that punt till it wasn't even good for a hencoop."
+
+"Nope. That was Sister--Annie Tompkins. He was purty near as bad as
+Aristotle, though. He roped a puma up on th' Sacramentos, an' didn't
+punch no more fer three weeks. Well, here comes my pardner an' I reckons
+I'll amble right along. If yu needs any referee or a side pardner in any
+ruction yu has only got to warble up my way. So long."
+
+The next ten days passed quietly, and on the afternoon of the eleventh
+Hopalong's miner friend paid him a visit.
+
+"Jake recommends yore peaches," he laughed as he shook Hopalong's hand.
+"He says yu boosted another of that crowd. That bein' so I thought I
+would drop in an' say that they're comin' after yu to-night, shore. Just
+heard of it from yore friend Jimmy. Yu can count on us when th' rush
+comes. But why didn't yu say yu was a pard of Buck Peters'? Me an' him
+used to shoot up Laramie together. From what yore friend James says, yu
+can handle this gang by yore lonesome, but if yu needs any encouragement
+yu make some sign an' we'll help th' event along some. They's eight of
+us that'll be waitin' up to get th' returns an' we're shore goin' to be
+in range."
+
+"Gee, it's nice to run across a friend of Buck's! Ain't he a
+son-of-a-gun?" Asked Hopalong, delighted at the news. Then, without
+waiting for a reply, he went on: "Yore shore square, all right, an' I
+hates to refuse yore offer, but I got eighteen friends comin' up an'
+they ought to get here by tomorrow. Yu tell Jimmy to head them this way
+when they shows up an' I'll have th' claim for them. There ain't no
+use of yu fellers gettin' mixed up in this. Th' bunch that's comin' can
+clean out any gang this side of sunup, an' I expects they'll shore be
+anxious to begin when they finds me eatin' peaches an' wastin' my time
+shootin' bums. Yu pass th' word along to yore friends, an' tell them to
+lay low an' see th' Arory Boerallis hit this town with its tail up. Tell
+Jimmy to do it up good when he speaks about me holdin' th' claim--I likes
+to see Buck an' Red fight when they're good an' mad."
+
+The miner laughed and slapped Hopalong on the shoulder. "Yore all right,
+youngster! Yore just like Buck was at yore age. Say now, I reckons he
+wasn't a reg'lar terror on wheels! Why, I've seen him do more foolish
+things than any man I knows of, an' I calculate that if Buck pals
+with yu there ain't no water in yore sand. My name's Tom Halloway," he
+suggested.
+
+"An' mine's Hopalong Cassidy," was the reply. "I've heard Buck speak of
+yu."
+
+"Has yu? Well, don't it beat all how little this world is? Somebody
+allus turnin' up that knows somebody yu knows. I'll just amble along,
+Mr. Cassidy, an' don't yu be none bashful about callin' if yu needs me.
+Any pal of Buck's is my friend. Well, so long," said the visitor as he
+strode off. Then he stopped and turned around. "Hey, mister!" he
+called. "They are goin' to roll a fire barrel down agin yu from behind,"
+indicating by an outstretched arm the point from where it would start.
+"If it burns yu out I'm goin' to take a band from up there," pointing to
+a cluster of rocks well to the rear of where the crowd would work from,
+"an' I don't care whether yu likes it or not," he added to himself.
+
+Hopalong scratched his head and then laughed. Taking up a pick and
+shovel, he went out behind the cabin and dug a trench parallel with and
+about twenty paces away from the rear wall. Heaping the excavated dirt
+up on the near side of the cut, he stepped back and surveyed his labor
+with open satisfaction. "Roll yore fire barrel an' be dogged," he
+muttered. "Mebby she won't make a bully light for pot shots, though," he
+added, grinning at the execution he would do.
+
+Taking up his tools, he went up to the place from where the gang would
+roll the barrel, and made half a dozen mounds of twigs, being careful to
+make them very flimsy. Then he covered them with earth and packed
+them gently. The mounds looked very tempting from the view-point of a
+marksman in search of earth-works, and appeared capable of stopping any
+rifle ball that could be fired against them. Hopalong looked them over
+critically and stepped back.
+
+"I'd like to see th' look on th' face of th' son-of-a-gun that uses them
+for cover--won't he be surprised" and he grinned gleefully as he pictured
+his shots boring through them. Then he placed in the center of each a
+chip or a pebble or something that he thought would show up well in the
+firelight.
+
+Returning to the cabin, he banked it up well with dirt and gravel,
+and tossed a few shovelfuls up on the roof as a safety valve to his
+exuberance. When he entered the door he had another idea, and fell to
+work scooping out a shallow cellar, deep enough to shelter him when
+lying at full length. Then he stuck his head out of the window and
+grinned at the false covers with their prominent bull's-eyes.
+
+"When that prize-winnin' gang of ossified idiots runs up agin' these
+fortifications they shore will be disgusted. I'll bet four dollars an'
+seven cents they'll think their medicine-man's no good. I hopes that
+puff-eyed marshal will pick out that hump with th' chip on it," and he
+hugged himself in anticipation.
+
+He then cut down a sapling and fastened it to the roof and on it he
+tied his neckerchief, which fluttered valiantly and with defiance in
+the light breeze. "I shore hopes they appreciates that," he remarked
+whimsically, as he went inside the hut and closed the door.
+
+The early part of the evening passed in peace, and Hopalong, tired of
+watching in vain, wished for action. Midnight came, and it was not until
+half an hour before dawn that he was attacked. Then a noise sent him to
+a loophole, where he fired two shots at skulking figures some distance
+off. A fusillade of bullets replied; one of them ripped through the door
+at a weak spot and drilled a hole in a can of the everlasting peaches.
+Hopalong set the can in the frying pan and then flitted from loophole to
+loophole, shooting quick and straight. Several curses told him that he
+had not missed, and he scooped up a finger of peach juice. Shots thudded
+into the walls of his fort in an unceasing stream, and, as it grew
+lighter, several whizzed through the loopholes. He kept close to the
+earth and waited for the rush, and when it came sent it back, minus two
+of its members.
+
+As he reloaded his Colts a bullet passed through his shirt sleeve and he
+promptly nailed the marksman. He looked out of a crack in the rear wall
+and saw the top of an adjoining hill crowned with spectators, all of
+whom were armed. Some time later he repulsed another attack and heard a
+faint cheer from his friends on the hill. Then he saw a barrel, blazing
+from end to end, roll out from the place he had so carefully covered
+with mounds. It gathered speed and bounded over the rough ground,
+flashed between two rocks and leaped into the trench, where it crackled
+and roared in vain.
+
+"Now," said Hopalong, blazing at the mounds as fast as he could fire his
+rifle, "we'll just see what yu thinks of yore nice little covers."
+
+Yells of consternation and pain rang out in a swelling chorus, and legs
+and arms jerked and flopped, one man, in his astonishment at the shot
+that tore open his cheek, sitting up in plain sight of the marksman.
+Roars of rage floated up from the main body of the besiegers, and the
+discomfited remnant of barrel-rollers broke for real cover.
+
+Then he stopped another rush from the front, made upon the supposition
+that he was thinking only of the second detachment. A hearty cheer arose
+from Tom Halloway and his friends, ensconced in their rocky position,
+and it was taken up by those on the hill, who danced and yelled their
+delight at the battle, to them more humorous than otherwise.
+
+This recognition of his prowess from men of the caliber of his audience
+made him feel good, and he grinned: "Gee, I'll bet Halloway an' his
+friends is shore itchin' to get in this," he murmured, firing at a head
+that was shown for an instant. "Wonder what Red'll say when Jimmy tells
+him--bet he'll plow dust like a cyclone," and Hopalong laughed, picturing
+to himself the satiation of Red's anger. "Old red-headed son-of-a-gun,"
+murmured the cowboy affectionately, "he shore can fight."
+
+As he squinted over the sights of his rifle his eye caught sight of a
+moving body of men as they cantered over the flats about two miles away.
+In his eagerness he forgot to shoot and carefully counted them. "Nine,"
+he grumbled. "Wonder what's th' matter?" Fearing that they were not
+his friends. Then a second body numbering eight cantered into sight and
+followed the first.
+
+"Whoop! There's th' Red-head!" he shouted, dancing in his joy. "Now,"
+he shouted at the peach can joyously, "yu wait about thirty minutes an'
+yu'll shore reckon Hades has busted loose!"
+
+He grabbed up his Colts, which he kept loaded for repelling rushes, and
+recklessly emptied them into the bushes and between the rocks and trees,
+searching every likely place for a human target. Then he slipped his
+rifle in a loophole and waited for good shots, having worked off the
+dangerous pressure of his exuberance.
+
+Soon he heard a yell from the direction of the "Miner's Rest," and fell
+to jamming cartridges into his revolvers so that he could sally out and
+join in the fray by the side of Red.
+
+The thunder of madly pounding hoofs rolled up the trail, and soon a
+horse and rider shot around the corner and headed for the copse. Three
+more raced close behind and then a bunch of six, followed by the rest,
+spread out and searched for trouble.
+
+Red, a Colt in each hand and hatless, stood up in his stirrups and
+sent shot after shot into the fleeing mob, which he could not follow on
+account of the nature of the ground. Buck wheeled and dashed down the
+trail again with Red a close second, the others packed in a solid mass
+and after them. At the first level stretch the newcomers swept down
+and hit their enemies, going through them like a knife through cheese.
+Hopalong danced up and down with rage when he could not find his horse,
+and had to stand and yell, a spectator.
+
+The fight drifted in among the buildings, where it became a series of
+isolated duels, and soon Hopalong saw panic-stricken horses carrying
+their riders out of the other side of the town. Then he went gunning for
+the man who had rustled his horse. He was unsuccessful and returned to
+his peaches.
+
+Soon the riders came up, and when they saw Hopalong shove a peach into
+his powder-grimed mouth they yelled their delight.
+
+"Yu old maverick! Eatin' peaches like yu was afraid we'd git some!"
+shouted Red indignantly, leaping down and running up to his pal as
+though to thrash him.
+
+Hopalong grinned pleasantly and fired a peach against Red's eye. "I
+was savin' that one for yu, Reddie," he remarked, as he avoided Buck's
+playful kick. "Yu fellers git to work an' dig up some wealth--I'm
+hungry." Then he turned to Buck: "Yore th' marshal of this town, an' any
+son-of-a-gun what don't like it had better write. Oh, yes, here comes
+Tom Halloway--'member him?"
+
+Buck turned and faced the miner and his hand went out with a jerk.
+
+"Well, I'll be locoed if I didn't punch with yu on th' Tin-Cup!" he
+said.
+
+"Yu shore did an' yu was purty devilish, but that there Cassidy of yourn
+beats anything I ever seen."
+
+"He's a good kid," replied Buck, glancing to where Red and Hopalong were
+quarreling as to who had eaten the most pie in a contest held some years
+before.
+
+Johnny, nosing around, came upon the perforated and partially scattered
+piles of earth and twigs, and vented his disgust of them by kicking them
+to pieces. "Hey! Hoppy! Oh, Hoppy!" he called, "what are these things?"
+
+Hopalong jammed Red's hat over that person's eyes and replied: "Oh,
+them's some loaded dice I fixed for them."
+
+"Yu son-of-a-gun!" sputtered Red, as he wrestled with his friend in the
+exuberance of his pride. "Yu son-of-a-gun! Yu shore ought to be ashamed
+to treat 'em that way!"
+
+"Shore," replied Hopalong. "But I ain't!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. The Hospitality of Travennes
+
+
+Mr. Buck Peters rode into Alkaline one bright September morning and
+sought refreshment at the Emporium. Mr. Peters had just finished some
+business for his employer and felt the satisfaction that comes with
+the knowledge of work well done. He expected to remain in Alkaline
+for several days, where he was to be joined by two of his friends and
+punchers, Mr. Hopalong Cassidy and Mr. Red Connors, both of whom were
+at Cactus Springs, seventy miles to the east. Mr. Cassidy and his friend
+had just finished a nocturnal tour of Santa Fe and felt somewhat peevish
+and dull in consequence, not to mention the sadness occasioned by
+the expenditure of the greater part of their combined capital on such
+foolishness as faro, roulette and wet-goods.
+
+Mr. Peters and his friends had sought wealth in the Black Hills, where
+they had enthusiastically disfigured the earth in the fond expectation
+of uncovering vast stores of virgin gold. Their hopes were of an
+optimistic brand and had existed until the last canister of cornmeal
+flour had been emptied by Mr. Cassidy's burro, which waited not upon
+it's master's pleasure nor upon the ethics of the case. When Mr. Cassidy
+had returned from exercising the animal and himself over two miles of
+rocky hillside in the vain endeavor to give it his opinion of burros and
+sundry chastisements, he was requested, as owner of the beast, to
+give his counsel as to the best way of securing eighteen breakfasts.
+Remembering that the animal was headed north when he last saw it and
+that it was too old to eat, anyway, he suggested a plan which had
+worked successfully at other times for other ends, namely, poker.
+Mr. McAllister, an expert at the great American game, volunteered his
+service in accordance with the spirit of the occasion and, half an hour
+later, he and Mr. Cassidy drifted into Pell's poker parlors, which
+were located in the rear of a Chinese laundry, where they gathered unto
+themselves the wherewithal for the required breakfasts. An hour spent
+in the card room of the "Hurrah" convinced its proprietor that they had
+wasted their talents for the past six weeks in digging for gold.
+The proof of this permitted the departure of the outfits with their
+customary elan.
+
+At Santa Fe the various individuals had gone their respective ways, to
+reassemble at the ranch in the near future, and for several days they
+had been drifting south in groups of twos and threes and, like chaff
+upon a stream, had eddied into Alkaline, where Mr. Peters had found
+them arduously engaged in postponing the final journey. After he had
+gladdened their hearts and soothed their throats by making several pithy
+remarks to the bartender, with whom he established their credit, he
+cautioned them against letting any one harm them and, smiling at the
+humor of his warning, left abruptly.
+
+Cactus Springs was burdened with a zealous and initiative organization
+known as vigilantes, whose duty it was to extend the courtesies of the
+land to cattle thieves and the like. This organization boasted of the
+name of Travennes' Terrors and of a muster roll of twenty. There was
+also a boast that no one had ever escaped them which, if true, was in
+many cases unfortunate. Mr. Slim Travennes, with whom Mr. Cassidy had
+participated in an extemporaneous exchange of Colt's courtesies in
+Santa Fe the year before, was the head of the organization and was also
+chairman of the committee on arrivals, and the two gentlemen of the
+Bar-20 had not been in town an hour before he knew of it.
+
+Being anxious to show the strangers every attention and having a keen
+recollection of the brand of gun-play commanded by Mr. Cassidy, he
+planned a smoother method of procedure and one calculated to permit him
+to enjoy the pleasures of a good old age. Mr. Travennes knew that horse
+thieves were regarded as social enemies, that the necessary proof of
+their guilt was the finding of stolen animals in their possession, that
+death was the penalty and that every man, whether directly concerned or
+not, regarded, himself as judge, jury and executioner.
+
+He had several acquaintances who were bound to him by his knowledge of
+crimes they had committed and would could not refuse his slightest wish.
+Even if they had been free agents they were not above causing the death
+of an innocent man. Mr. Travennes, feeling very self-satisfied at his
+cleverness, arranged to have the proof placed where it would do the most
+harm and intended to take care of the rest by himself.
+
+Mr. Connors, feeling much refreshed and very hungry, arose at daylight
+the next morning, and dressing quickly, started off to feed and water
+the horses. After having several tilts with the landlord about the
+bucket he took his departure toward the corral at the rear. Peering
+through the gate, he could hardly believe his eyes. He climbed over it
+and inspected the animals at close range, and found that those which he
+and his friend had ridden for the last two months were not to be
+seen, but in their places were two better animals, which concerned him
+greatly. Being fair and square himself, he could not understand the
+change and sought enlightenment of his more imaginative and suspicious
+friend.
+
+"Hey, Hopalong!" he called, "come out here an' see what th' blazes has
+happened!"
+
+Mr. Cassidy stuck his auburn head out of the wounded shutter and
+complacently surveyed his companion. Then he saw the horses and looked
+hard.
+
+"Quit yore foolin', yu old cuss," he remarked pleasantly, as he groped
+around behind him with his feet, searching for his boots. "Anybody would
+think yu was a little boy with yore fool jokes. Ain't yu ever goin' to
+grow up?"
+
+"They've got our bronch," replied Mr. Connors in an injured tone.
+"Honest, I ain't kiddin' yu," he added for the sake of peace.
+
+"Who has?" Came from the window, followed immediately by, "Yu've got my
+boots!"
+
+"I ain't--they're under th' bunk," contradicted and explained Mr.
+Connors. Then, turning to the matter in his mind he replied, "I don't
+know who's got them. If I did do yu think I'd be holdin' hands with
+myself?"
+
+"Nobody'd accuse yu of anything like that," came from the window,
+accompanied by an overdone snicker.
+
+Mr. Connors flushed under his accumulated tan as he remembered the
+varied pleasures of Santa Fe, and he regarded the bronchos in anything
+but a pleasant state of mind.
+
+Mr. Cassidy slid through the window and approached his friend, looking
+as serious as he could.
+
+"Any tracks?" He inquired, as he glanced quickly over the ground to see
+for himself.
+
+"Not after that wind we had last night. They might have growed there for
+all I can see," growled Mr. Connors.
+
+"I reckon we better hold a pow-wow with th' foreman of this shack an'
+find out what he knows," suggested Mr. Cassidy. "This looks too good to
+be a swap."
+
+Mr. Connors looked his disgust at the idea and then a light broke in
+upon him. "Mebby they was hard pushed an' wanted fresh cayuses," he
+said. "A whole lot of people get hard pushed in this country. Anyhow,
+we'll prospect th' boss."
+
+They found the proprietor in his stocking feet, getting the breakfast,
+and Mr. Cassidy regarded the preparations with open approval. He counted
+the tin plates and found only three, and, thinking that there would be
+more plates if there were others to feed, glanced into the landlord's
+room. Not finding signs of other guests, on whom to lay the blame for
+the loss of his horse, he began to ask questions.
+
+"Much trade?" He inquired solicitously.
+
+"Yep," replied the landlord.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked at the three tins and wondered if there had ever been
+any more with which to supply his trade. "Been out this morning?" he
+pursued.
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Talks purty nigh as much as Buck," thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+aloud, "Anybody else here?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+Mr. Cassidy lapsed into a painful and disgusted silence and his friend
+tried his hand.
+
+"Who owns a mosaic bronch, Chinee flag on th' near side, Skillet brand?"
+asked Mr. Connors.
+
+"Quien sabe?"
+
+"Gosh, he can nearly keep still in two lingoes," thought Mr. Cassidy.
+
+"Who owns a bob-tailed pinto, saddle-galled, cast in th' near eye, Star
+Diamond brand, white stockin' on th' off front prop, with a habit of
+scratchin' itself every other minute?" went on Mr. Connors.
+
+"Slim Travennes," replied the proprietor, flopping a flapjack. Mr.
+Cassidy reflectively scratched the back of his hand and looked innocent,
+but his mind was working overtime.
+
+"Who's Slim Travennes?" Asked Mr. Connors, never having heard of that
+person, owing to the reticence of his friend.
+
+"Captain of th' vigilantes."
+
+"What does he look like on th' general run?" Blandly inquired Mr.
+Cassidy, wishing to verify his suspicions. He thought of the trouble
+he had with Mr. Travennes up in Santa Fe and of the reputation that
+gentleman possessed. Then the fact that Mr. Travennes was the leader
+of the local vigilantes came to his assistance and he was sure that
+the captain had a hand in the change. All these points existed in misty
+groups in his mind, but the next remark of the landlord caused them to
+rush together and reveal the plot.
+
+"Good," said the landlord, flopping another flapjack, "and a warnin' to
+hoss thieves.
+
+"Ahem," coughed Mr. Cassidy and then continued, "is he a tall, lanky,
+yaller-headed son-of-a-gun, with a big nose an' lots of ears?"
+
+"Mebby so," answered the host.
+
+"Urn, slopping over into bad Sioux," thought Mr. Cassidy, and then said
+aloud, "How long has he hung around this here layout?" At the same time
+passing a warning glance at his companion.
+
+The landlord straightened up. "Look here, stranger, if yu hankers after
+his pedigree so all-fired hard yu had best pump him."
+
+"I told yu this here feller wasn't a man what would give away all he
+knowed," lied Mr. Connors, turning to his friend and indicating the
+host. "He ain't got time for that. Anybody can see that he is a powerful
+busy man. An' then he ain't no child."
+
+Mr. Cassidy thought that the landlord could tell all he knew in about
+five minutes and then not break any speed records for conversation, but
+he looked properly awed and impressed. "Well, yu needn't go an' get mad
+about it! I didn't know, did I?"
+
+"Who's gettin' mad?" Pugnaciously asked Mr. Connors. After his injured
+feelings had been soothed by Mr. Cassidy's sullen silence he again
+turned to the landlord.
+
+"What did this Travennes look like when yu saw him last?" Coaxed Mr.
+Connors.
+
+"Th' same as he does now, as yu can see by lookin' out of th' window.
+That's him down th' street," enlightened the host, thawing to the
+pleasant Mr. Connors.
+
+Mr. Cassidy adopted the suggestion and frowned. Mr. Travennes and two
+companions were walking toward the corral and Mr. Cassidy once again
+slid out of the window, his friend going by the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. Travennes' Discomfiture
+
+
+When Mr. Travennes looked over the corral fence he was much chagrined to
+see a man and a Colt both paying strict attention to his nose.
+
+"Mornin', Duke," said the man with the gun. "Lose anything?"
+
+Mr. Travennes looked back at his friends and saw Mr. Connors sitting on
+a rock holding two guns. Mr. Travennes' right and left wings were the
+targets and they pitted their frowns against Mr. Connors' smile.
+
+"Not that I knows of," replied Mr. Travennes, shifting his feet
+uneasily.
+
+"Find anything?" Came from Mr. Cassidy as he sidled out of the gate.
+
+"Nope," replied the captain of the Terrors, eying the Colt. "Are yu in
+the habit of payin' early mornin' calls to this here corral?" persisted
+Mr. Cassidy, playing with the gun.
+
+"Ya-as. That's my business--I'm th' captain of the vigilantes."
+
+"That's too bad," sympathized Mr. Cassidy, moving forward a step.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked put out and backed off. "What yu mean, stickin' me
+up this-away?" He asked indignantly.
+
+"Yu needn't go an' get mad," responded Mr. Cassidy. "Just business. Yore
+cayuse an' another shore climbed this corral fence last night an' ate up
+our bronchs, an' I just nachurly want to know about it."
+
+Mr. Travennes looked his surprise and incredulity and craned his neck to
+see for himself. When he saw his horse peacefully scratching itself he
+swore and looked angrily up the street. Mr. Connors, behind the shack,
+was hidden to the view of those on the street, and when two men ran up
+at a signal from Mr. Travennes, intending to insert themselves in the
+misunderstanding, they were promptly lined up with the first two by the
+man on the rock.
+
+"Sit down," invited Mr. Connors, pushing a chunk of air out of the way
+with his guns. The last two felt a desire to talk and to argue the case
+on its merits, but refrained as the black holes in Mr. Connors' guns
+hinted at eruption. "Every time yu opens yore mouths yu gets closer to
+th' Great Divide," enlightened that person, and they were childlike in
+their belief.
+
+Mr. Travennes acted as though he would like to scratch his thigh where
+his Colt's chafed him, but postponed the event and listened to Mr.
+Cassidy, who was asking questions.
+
+"Where's our cayuses, General?"
+
+Mr. Travennes replied that he didn't know. He was worried, for he
+feared that his captor didn't have a secure hold on the hammer of the
+ubiquitous Colt's.
+
+"Where's my cayuse?" Persisted Mr. Cassidy.
+
+"I don't know, but I wants to ask yu how yu got mine," replied Mr.
+Travennes.
+
+"Yu tell me how mine got out an' I'll tell yu how yourn got in,"
+countered Mr. Cassidy.
+
+Mr. Connors added another to his collection before the captain replied.
+
+"Out in this country people get in trouble when they're found with other
+folks' cayuses," Mr. Travennes suggested.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked interested and replied: "Yu shore ought to borrow
+some experience, an' there's lots floating around. More than one man has
+smoked in a powder mill, an' th' number of them planted who looked in
+th' muzzle of a empty gun is scandalous. If my remarks don't perculate
+right smart I'll explain."
+
+Mr. Travennes looked down the street again, saw number five added to the
+line-up, and coughed up chunks of broken profanity, grieving his host by
+his lack of courtesy.
+
+"Time," announced Mr. Cassidy, interrupting the round. "I wants them
+cayuses an' I wants 'em right now. Yu an' me will amble off an' get
+'em. I won't bore yu with tellin' yu what'll happen if yu gets skittish.
+Slope along an' don't be scared; I'm with yu," assured Mr. Cassidy as he
+looked over at Mr. Connors, whose ascetic soul pined for the flapjacks
+of which his olfactories caught intermittent whiffs.
+
+"Well, Red, I reckons yu has got plenty of room out here for all yu may
+corral; anyhow there ain't a whole lot more. My friend Slim an' I are
+shore going to have a devil of a time if we can t find them cussed
+bronchs. Whew, them flapjacks smell like a plain trail to payday. Just
+think of th' nice maple juice we used to get up to Cheyenne on them
+frosty mornings."
+
+"Get out of here an' lemme alone! 'What do yu allus want to go an' make
+a feller unhappy for? Can't yu keep still about grub when yu knows I
+ain't had my morning's feed yet?" Asked Mr. Connors, much aggrieved.
+
+"Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp. Yu
+tend to business an' watch th' herd. That shorthorn yearling at th'
+end of th' line"--pointing to a young man who looked capable of taking
+risks--"he looks like he might take a chance an' gamble with yu,"
+remarked Mr. Cassidy, placing Mr. Travennes in front of him and
+pushing back his own sombrero. "Don't put too much maple juice on them
+flapjacks, Red," he warned as he poked his captive in the back of the
+neck as a hint to get along. Fortunately Mr. Connors' closing remarks
+are lost to history.
+
+Observing that Mr. Travennes headed south on the quest, Mr. Cassidy
+reasoned that the missing bronchos ought to be somewhere in the north,
+and he postponed the southern trip until such time when they would
+have more leisure at their disposal. Mr. Travennes showed a strong
+inclination to shy at this arrangement, but quieted down under
+persuasion, and they started off toward where Mr. Cassidy firmly
+believed the North Pole and the cayuses to be.
+
+"Yu has got quite a metropolis here," pleasantly remarked Mr. Cassidy
+as under his direction they made for a distant corral. "I can see
+four different types of architecture, two of 'em on one residence," he
+continued as they passed a wood and adobe hut. "No doubt the railroad
+will put a branch down here some day an' then yu can hire their old cars
+for yore public buildings. Then when yu gets a post-office yu will shore
+make Chicago hustle some to keep her end up. Let's assay that hollow for
+horse-hide; it looks promisin'."
+
+The hollow was investigated but showed nothing other than cactus and
+baked alkali. The corral came next, and there too was emptiness. For an
+hour the search was unavailing, but at the end of that time Mr. Cassidy
+began to notice signs of nervousness on the part of his guest, which
+grew less as they proceeded. Then Mr. Cassidy retraced their steps to
+the place where the nervousness first developed and tried another way
+and once more returned to the starting point.
+
+"Yu seems to hanker for this fool exercise," quoth Mr. Trayennes with
+much sarcasm. "If yu reckons I'm fond of this locoed ramblin' yu shore
+needs enlightenment."
+
+"Sometimes I do get these fits," confessed Mr. Cassidy, "an' when I
+do I'm dead sore on objections. Let's peek in that there hut," he
+suggested.
+
+"Huh; yore ideas of cayuses are mighty peculiar. Why don't you look for
+'em up on those cactuses or behind that mesquite? I wouldn't be a heap
+surprised if they was roostin' on th' roof. They are mighty knowing
+animals, cayuses. I once saw one that could figger like a schoolmarm,"
+remarked Mr. Travennes, beginning sarcastically and toning it down as he
+proceeded, out of respect for his companion's gun.
+
+"Well, they might be in th' shack," replied Mr. Cassidy. "Cayuses know
+so much that it takes a month to unlearn them. I wouldn't like to bet
+they ain't in that hut, though."
+
+Mr. Travennes snickered in a manner decidedly uncomplimentary and began
+to whistle, softly at first. The gentleman from the Bar-20 noticed that
+his companion was a musician; that when he came to a strong part he
+increased the tones until they bid to be heard at several hundred yards.
+When Mr. Travennes had reached a most passionate part in "Juanita" and
+was expanding his lungs to do it justice he was rudely stopped by the
+insistent pressure of his guard's Colt's on the most ticklish part of
+his ear.
+
+"I shore wish yu wouldn't strain yoreself thataway," said Mr. Cassidy,
+thinking that Mr. Travennes might be endeavoring to call assistance. "I
+went an' promised my mother on her deathbed that I wouldn't let nobody
+whistle out loud like that, an' th' opery is hereby stopped. Besides,
+somebody might hear them mournful tones an' think that something is th'
+matter, which it ain't."
+
+Mr. Travennes substituted heartfelt cursing, all of which was heavily
+accented.
+
+As they approached the hut Mr. Cassidy again tickled his prisoner and
+insisted that he be very quiet, as his cayuse was very sensitive to
+noise and it might be there. Mr. Cassidy still thought Mr. Travennes
+might have friends in the hut and wouldn't for the world disturb them,
+as he would present a splendid target as he approached the building.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. The Tale of a Cigarette
+
+
+The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two of
+whom were Mexicans. Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt called
+upon to relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched that
+gentleman's thigh and then disarmed the sleeping guards.
+
+"One man an' a half," murmured Mr. Cassidy, it being in his creed that
+it took four Mexicans to make one Texan.
+
+In the far corner of the room were two bronchos, one of which tried in
+vain to kick Mr. Cassidy, not realizing that he was ten feet away. The
+noise awakened the sleepers, who sat up and then sprang to their feet,
+their hands instinctively streaking to their thighs for the weapons
+which peeked contentedly from the bosom of Mr. Cassidy's open shirt. One
+of the Mexicans made a lightning-like grab for the back of his neck for
+the knife which lay along his spine and was shot in the front of his
+neck for his trouble. The shot spoiled his aim, as the knife flashed
+past Mr. Cassidy's arm, wide by two feet, and thudded into the door
+frame, where it hummed angrily.
+
+"The only man who could do that right was th' man who invented it, Mr.
+Bowie, of Texas," explained Mr. Cassidy to the other Mexican. Then he
+glanced at the broncho, that was squealing in rage and fear at the shot,
+which sounded like a cannon in the small room, and laughed.
+
+"That's my cayuse, all right, an' he wasn't up no cactus nor roostin' on
+th' roof, neither. He's th' most affectionate beast I ever saw. It took
+me nigh onto six months afore I could ride him without fighting him to a
+standstill," said Mr. Cassidy to his guest. Then he turned to the horse
+and looked it over. "Come here! What d'yu mean, acting thataway? Yu
+ragged end of nothin' wobbling in space! Yu wall-eyed, ornery, locoed
+guide to Hades! Yu won't be so frisky when yu've made them seventy hot
+miles between here an' Alkaline in five hours," he promised, as he made
+his way toward the animal.
+
+Mr. Travennes walked over to the opposite wall and took down a pouch
+of tobacco which hung from a peg. He did this in a manner suggesting
+ownership, and after he had deftly rolled a cigarette with one hand he
+put the pouch in his pocket and, lighting up, inhaled deeply and with
+much satisfaction. Mr. Cassidy turned around and glanced the group over,
+wondering if the tobacco had been left in the hut on a former call.
+
+"Did yu find yore makings?" He asked, with a note of congratulations in
+his voice.
+
+"Yep. Want one?" Asked Mr. Travennes.
+
+Mr. Cassidy ignored the offer and turned to the guard whom he had found
+asleep.
+
+"Is that his tobacco?" He asked, and the guard, anxious to make
+everything run smoothly, told the truth and answered:
+
+"Shore. He left it here last night," whereupon Mr. Travennes swore and
+Mr. Cassidy smiled grimly.
+
+"Then yu knows how yore cayuse got in an' how mine got out," said the
+latter. "I wish yu would explain," he added, fondling his Colts.
+
+Mr. Travennes frowned and remained silent.
+
+"I can tell yu, anyhow," continued Mr. Cassidy, still smiling, but his
+eyes and jaw belied the smile. "Yu took them cayuses out because yu
+wanted yourn to be found in their places. Yu remembered Santa Fe an'
+it rankled in yu. Not being man enough to notify me that yu'd shoot on
+sight an' being afraid my friends would get yu if yu plugged me on th'
+sly, yu tried to make out that me an' Red rustled yore cayuses. That
+meant a lynching with me an' Red in th' places of honor. Yu never saw
+Red afore, but yu didn't care if he went with me. Yu don't deserve fair
+play, but I'm going to give it to yu because I don't want anybody to say
+that any of th' Bar-20 ever murdered a man, not even a skunk like yu.
+My friends have treated me too square for that. Yu can take this gun an
+yu can do one of three things with it, which are: walk out in th' open
+a hundred paces an' then turn an walk toward me--after you face me yu can
+set it a-going whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore hat
+an' I'll put mine an' th' others back by the cayuses. Then we'll toss
+up an' th' lucky man gets it to use as he wants. Th' third is, shoot
+yourself."
+
+Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the weapon,
+muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at "twirling,"
+he kept its recipient covered during the operation. Then, placing his
+second Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them through the door,
+being very careful not to lose the drop on his now armed prisoner.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead, and
+being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked to
+the east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway to the
+meridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected from the
+shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and interfere with
+the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for small favors.
+
+Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the lay
+of the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small but deep
+hole out toward the east and that it was about the required distance
+away. This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in the burning
+sun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in the manner
+he had seen the Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed hobbies, specific
+and general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared from sight as the
+surprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his assistance.
+
+Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that his help was
+not needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste covered the
+distance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr. Travennes swore
+in self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots barked a cactus
+which leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked several clouds of
+alkali near that person's nose, causing him to sneeze, duck, and grin.
+
+"It's his own gun," grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through his
+sombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had a whole belt
+full of .44's. If it had been Mr. Cassidy's gun that had been handed over
+he would have enjoyed the joke on Mr. Travennes, who would have had five
+cartridges between himself and the promised eternity, as he would have
+been unable to use the .44's in Mr. Cassidy's .45, while the latter would
+have gladly consented to the change, having as he did an extra .45. Never
+before had Mr. Cassidy looked with reproach upon his .45 caliber Colt's,
+and he sighed as he used it to notify Mr. Travennes that arbitration
+was not to be considered, which that person indorsed, said indorsement
+passing so close to Mr. Cassidy's ear that he felt the breeze made by
+it.
+
+"He's been practicin' since I plugged him up in Santa Fe," thought Mr.
+Cassidy, as he retired around the hut to formulate a plan of campaign.
+
+Mr. Travennes sang "Hi-le, hi-lo," and other selections, principally
+others, and wondered how Mr. Cassidy could hoist him out. The slack of
+his belt informed him that he was in the middle of a fast, and suggested
+starvation as the derrick that his honorable and disgusted adversary
+might employ.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, while figuring out his method of procedure, absent-mindedly
+jabbed a finger in his eye, and the ensuing tears floated an idea to
+him. He had always had great respect for ricochet shots since his friend
+Skinny Thompson had proved their worth on the hides of Sioux. If he
+could disturb the sand and convey several grains of it to Mr. Travennes'
+eyes the game would be much simplified. While planning for the proposed
+excavation, a la Colt's, he noticed several stones lying near at hand,
+and a new and better scheme presented itself for his consideration.
+If Mr. Travennes could be persuaded to get out of--well, it was worth
+trying.
+
+Mr. Cassidy lined up his gloomy collection and tersely ordered them to
+turn their backs to him and to stay in that position, the suggestion
+being that if they looked around they wouldn't be able to dodge quickly
+enough. He then slipped bits of his lariat over their wrists and ankles,
+tying wrists to ankles and each man to his neighbor. That finished
+to his satisfaction, he dragged them in the hut to save them from the
+burning rays of the sun.
+
+Having performed this act of kindness, he crept along the hot sand,
+taking advantage of every bit of cover afforded, and at last he reached
+a point within a hundred feet of the besieged. During the trip
+Mr. Travennes sang to his heart's content, some of the words being
+improvised for the occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr.
+Cassidy's respect for his own wisdom if he should hear them. Mr. Cassidy
+heard, however, and several fragments so forcibly intruded on his peace
+of mind that he determined to put on the last verse himself and to suit
+himself.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut. He was
+down again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him and
+he believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of the
+building, which caused him to fear that he was expected to live on
+nothing as long as he could and then give himself up. Just to show his
+defiance he stretched himself out on his back and sang with all his
+might, his sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out of
+his eyes.
+
+He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he had
+intended, and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg. Looking
+up, he saw another missile curve into his patch of sky and swiftly bear
+down on him. He avoided it by a hair's breadth and wondered what
+had happened. Then what Mr. Travennes thought was a balloon, being
+unsophisticated in matters pertaining to aerial navigation, swooped down
+upon him and smote him on the shoulder and also bounced off.
+
+Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up elocution as he
+dodged another stone and wished that the mesquite-loving crank had put
+on a roof. In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on a
+level with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through his
+head-gear and into the opposite wall made him wish that there had been
+constructed a cellar, also.
+
+"Hi-le, hi-lo" intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of the
+surplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's foot
+shaved Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest his
+enemy.
+
+"Hibernate, blank yu!" derisively shouted the human catapult as he
+released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail. "Draw in yore laigs
+an' buck," was his God-speed to the missile.
+
+"Hey, yu!" indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective storm
+cellar. "Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?"
+
+"Hi-le, hi-lo," sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in the
+direction of the complainant. Then he stood erect and awaited results
+with a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole. A hat waved
+and an excited voice bit off chunks of expostulation and asked for an
+armistice. Then two hands shot up and Mr. Travennes, sore and disgusted
+and desperate, popped his head up an blinked at Mr. Cassidy's gun.
+
+"Yu was fillin' th' hole up," remarked Mr. Travennes in an accusing
+tone, hiding the real reason for his evacuation. "In a little while I'd
+a been th' top of a pile instead of th' bottom of a hole," he announced,
+crawling out and rubbing his head.
+
+Mr. Cassidy grinned and ordered his prisoner to one side while be
+secured the weapon which lay in the hole. Having obtained it as quickly
+as possible be slid it in his open shirt and clambered out again.
+
+"Yu remind me of a feller I used to know," remarked Mr. Travennes, as he
+led the way to the hut, trying not to limp. "Only he throwed dynamite.
+That was th' way he cleared off chaparral--blowed it off. He got so used
+to heaving away everything he lit that he spoiled three pipes in two
+days."
+
+Mr. Cassidy laughed at the fiction and then became grave as he pictured
+Mr. Connors sitting on the rock and facing down a line of men, any
+one of whom was capable of his destruction if given the interval of a
+second.
+
+When they arrived at the hut Mr. Cassidy observed that the prisoners had
+moved considerably. There was a cleanly swepttrail four yards long where
+they had dragged themselves, and they sat in the end nearer the guns.
+Mr. Cassidy smiled and fired close to the Mexican's ear, who lost in one
+frightened jump a little of what he had so laboriously gained.
+
+"Yu'll wear out yore pants," said Mr. Cassidy, and then added grimly,
+"an' my patience."
+
+Mr. Travennes smiled and thought of the man who so ably seconded Mr.
+Cassidy's efforts and who was probably shot by this time. The outfit of
+the Bar-20 was so well known throughout the land that he was aware the
+name of the other was Red Connors. An unreasoning streak of sarcasm
+swept over him and he could not resist the opportunity to get in a stab
+at his captor.
+
+"Mebby yore pard has wore out somebody's patience, too," said Mr.
+Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
+
+His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.
+Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
+
+"I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip," said Mr. Cassidy, trembling with
+scorn and anger, "so yu can pull yourself together. I'll give yu another
+chance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K. If he
+ain't, I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts yu'll make
+a good acre of weeds. If he is all right yu'd better vamoose this range,
+for there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into next time. What friends
+yu have left will have to tote yu off an' plant yu," he finished with
+emphasis. He drove the horses outside, and, after severing the bonds on
+his prisoners, lined them up.
+
+"Yu," he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, "yu amble right smart
+toward Canada," pointing to the north. "Keep a-going till yu gets far
+enough away so a Colt won't find yu." Here he grinned with delight as he
+saw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and, drawing it
+forth, he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who were already
+industriously plodding northward. "Hey!" he shouted, and when they
+sullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he gleefully waved his
+rifle at them and warned them further: "This is a Sharp's an' it's good
+for half a mile, so don't stop none too soon."
+
+Having sent them directly away from their friends so they could not have
+him "potted" on the way back, he mounted his broncho and indicated to
+Mr. Travennes that he, too, was to ride, watching that that person did
+not make use of the Winchester which Mr. Connors was foolish enough to
+carry around on his saddle. Winchesters were Mr. Cassidy's pet aversion
+and Mr. Connors' most prized possession, this difference of opinion
+having upon many occasions caused hasty words between them. Mr. Connors,
+being better with his Winchester than Mr. Cassidy was with his Sharp's,
+had frequently proved that his choice was the wiser, but Mr. Cassidy
+was loyal to the Sharp's and refused to be convinced. Now, however,
+the Winchester became pregnant with possibilities and, therefore, Mr.
+Travennes rode a few yards to the left and in advance, where the rifle
+was in plain sight, hanging as it did on the right of Mr. Connors'
+saddle, which Mr. Travennes graced so well.
+
+The journey back to town was made in good time and when they came to
+the buildings Mr. Cassidy dismounted and bade his companion do likewise,
+there being too many corners that a fleeing rider could take advantage
+of. Mr. Travennes felt of his bumps and did so, wishing hard things
+about Mr. Cassidy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. The Penalty
+
+
+While Mr. Travennes had been entertained in the manner narrated, Mr.
+Connors had passed the time by relating stale jokes to the uproarious
+laughter of his extremely bored audience, who had heard the aged efforts
+many times since they had first seen the light of day, and most of whom
+earnestly longed for a drink. The landlord, hearing the hilarity, had
+taken advantage of the opportunity offered to see a free show. Not being
+able to see what the occasion was for the mirth, he had pulled on his
+boots and made his way to the show with a flapjack in the skillets
+which, in his haste, he had forgotten to put down. He felt sure that he
+would be entertained, and he was not disappointed. He rounded the corner
+and was enthusiastically welcomed by the hungry Mr. Connors, whose
+ubiquitous guns coaxed from the skillet its dyspeptic wad.
+
+"Th' saints be praised!" ejaculated Mr. Connors as a matter of form,
+not having a very clear idea of just what saints were, but he knew what
+flapjacks were and greedily overcame the heroic resistance of the one
+provided by chance and his own guns. As he rolled his eyes in ecstatic
+content the very man Mr. Cassidy had warned him against suddenly arose
+and in great haste disappeared around the corner of the corral, from
+which point of vantage he vented his displeasure at the treatment he had
+received by wasting six shots at the mortified Mr. Connors.
+
+"Steady!" sang out that gentleman as the line-up wavered. "He's
+a precedent to hell for yu fellers! Don't yu get ambitious, none
+whatever." Then he wondered how long it would take the fugitive to
+secure a rifle and return to release the others by drilling him at long
+range.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by the vision of a red head that climbed
+into view over a rise a short distance off and he grinned his delight as
+Mr. Cassidy loomed up, jaunty and triumphant. Mr. Cassidy was executing
+calisthenics with a Colt in the rear of Mr. Travennes' neck and was
+leading the horses.
+
+Mr. Connors waved the skillet and his friend grinned his congratulations
+at what the token signified.
+
+"I see yu got some more," said Mr. Cassidy, as he went down the line-up
+from the rear and collected nineteen weapons of various makes and
+conditions, this number being explained by the fact that all but one of
+the prisoners wore two. Then he added the five that had kicked against
+his ribs ever since he had left the hut, and carefully threaded the end
+of his lariat through the trigger guards.
+
+"Looks like we stuck up a government supply mule, Red," he remarked,
+as he fastened the whole collection to his saddle. "Fourteen colts, six
+Merwin-Hulbert's, three Prescott, an' one puzzle," he added, examining
+the puzzle. "Made in Germany, it says, and it shore looks like it. It's
+got little pins stickin' out of th' cylinder, like you had to swat it
+with a hammer or a rock, or somethin' to make it go off. Must be damn
+dangerous, to most anybody around. Looks more like a cactus than a
+six-shooter-gosh, it's a ten-shooter! I allus said them Dutchmen was
+bloody-minded cusses. Think of bein' able to shoot yoreself ten times
+before th' blame thing stops!" Then looking at the line-up for the owner
+of the weapon, he laughed at the woeful countenances displayed. "Did
+they sidle in by companies or squads?" He asked.
+
+"By twos, mostly. Then they parade-rested an' got discharged from duty.
+I had eleven, but one got homesick, or disgusted, or something, an'
+deserted. It was that cussed flapjack," confessed and explained Mr.
+Connors.
+
+"What!" said Mr. Cassidy in a loud voice. "Got away! Well, we'll have to
+make our get-away plumb sudden or we'll never go."
+
+At this instant the escaped man again began his bombardment from the
+corner of the corral and Mr. Cassidy paused, indignant at the fusillade
+which tore up the dust at his feet. He looked reproachfully at Mr.
+Connors and then circled out on the plain until he caught a glimpse of
+a fleeing cow-puncher, whose back rapidly grew smaller in the
+fast-increasing distance.
+
+"That's yore friend, Red," said Mr. Cassidy as he returned from his
+reconnaissance. "He's that short-horn yearling. Mebby he'll come back
+again," he added hopefully. "Anyhow, we've got to move. He'll collect
+reinforcements an' mebby they all won't shoot like him. Get up on yore
+Clarinda an' hold th' fort for me," he ordered, pushing the farther
+horse over to his friend. Mr. Connors proved that an agile man can mount
+a restless horse and not lose the drop, and backed off three hundred
+yards, deftly substituting his Winchester for the Colts. Then Mr.
+Cassidy likewise mounted with his attention riveted elsewhere and backed
+off to the side of his companion.
+
+The bombardment commenced again from the corral, but this time Mr.
+Connors' rifle slid around in his lap and exploded twice. The bellicose
+gentleman of the corral yelled in pain and surprise and vanished.
+
+"Purty good for a Winchester," said Mr. Cassidy in doubtful
+congratulation.
+
+"That's why I got him," snapped Mr. Connors in brief reply, and then
+he laughed. "Is them th' vigilantes what never let a man get away?" He
+scornfully asked, backing down the street and patting his Winchester.
+
+"Well, Red, they wasn't all there. They was only twelve all told,"
+excused Mr. Cassidy. "An' then we was two," he explained, as he wished
+the collection of six-shooters was on Mr. Connors' horse so they
+wouldn't bark his shin.
+
+"An we still are," corrected Mr. Connors, as they wheeled and galloped
+for Alkaline.
+
+As the sun sank low on the horizon Mr. Peters finished ordering
+provisions at the general store, the only one Alkaline boasted, and
+sauntered to the saloon where he had left his men. He found diem a few
+dollars richer, as they had borrowed ten dollars from the bartender on
+their reputations as poker players and had used the money to stake Mr.
+McAllister in a game against the local poker champion.
+
+"Has Hopalong an' Red showed up yet?" Asked Mr. Peters, frowning at the
+delay already caused.
+
+"Nope," replied Johnny Nelson, as he paused from tormenting Billy
+Williams.
+
+At that minute the doorway was darkened and Mr. Cassidy and Mr. Connors
+entered and called for refreshments. Mr. Cassidy dropped a huge bundle
+of six-shooters on the floor, making caustic remarks regarding their
+utility.
+
+"What's th' matter?" Inquired Mr. Peters of Mr. Cassidy. "Yu looks mad
+an' anxious. An' where in blazes did yu corral them guns?"
+
+Mr. Cassidy drank deep and then reported with much heat what had
+occurred at Cactus Springs and added that he wanted to go back and wipe
+out the town, said desire being luridly endorsed by Mr. Connors.
+
+"Why, shore," said Mr. Peters, "we'll all go. Such doings must be
+stopped instanter." Then he turned to the assembled outfits and asked
+for a vote, which was unanimous for war.
+
+Shortly afterward eighteen angry cowpunchers rode to the east, two
+red-haired gentlemen well in front and urging speed. It was 8 P.M. when
+they left Alkaline, and the cool of the night was so delightful that the
+feeling of ease which came upon them made them lax and they lost three
+hours in straying from the dim trail. At eight o'clock the next morning
+they came in sight of their destination and separated into two squads,
+Mr. Cassidy leading the northern division and Mr. Connors the one which
+circled to the south. The intention was to attack from two directions,
+thus taking the town from front and rear.
+
+Cactus Springs lay gasping in the excessive heat and the vigilantes who
+had toed Mr. Connors' line the day before were lounging in the shade of
+the "Palace" saloon, telling what they would do if they ever faced the
+same man again. Half a dozen sympathizers offered gratuitous condolence
+and advice and all were positive that they knew where Mr. Cassidy and
+Mr. Connors would go when they died.
+
+The rolling thunder of madly pounding hoofs disturbed their post-mortem
+and they arose in a body to flee from half their number, who, guns in
+hands, charged down upon them through clouds of sickly white smoke.
+Travennes' Terrors were minus many weapons and they could not be
+expected to give a glorious account of themselves. Windows rattled and
+fell in and doors and walls gave off peculiar sounds as they grew full
+of holes. Above the riot rattled the incessant crack of Colt's and
+Winchester, emphasized at close intervals by the assertive roar of
+buffalo guns. Off to the south came another rumble of hoofs and Mr.
+Connors, leading the second squad,--arrived to participate in the
+payment of the debt.
+
+Smoke spurted from windows and other points of vantage and hung wavering
+in the heated air. The shattering of woodwork told of heavy slugs
+finding their rest, and the whines that grew and diminished in the air
+sang the course of .45s.
+
+While the fight raged hottest Mr. Nelson sprang from his horse and ran
+to the "Palace," where he collected and piled a heap of tinder like
+wood, and soon the building burst out in flames, which, spreading, swept
+the town from end to end.
+
+Mr. Cassidy fired slowly and seemed to be waiting for something. Mr.
+Connors laid aside his hot Winchester and devoted his attention to his
+Colts. A spurt of flame and smoke leaped from the window of a 'dobe
+hut and Mr. Connors sat down, firing as he went. A howl from the window
+informed him that he had made a hit, and Mr. Cassidy ran out and dragged
+him to the shelter of a near-by bowlder and asked how much he was hurt.
+
+"Not much--in the calf," grunted Mr. Connors. "He was a bad shot--must
+have been the cuss that got away yesterday," speculated the injured
+man as he slowly arose to his feet. Mr. Cassidy dissented from force of
+habit and returned to his station. Mr. Travennes, who was sleeping
+late that morning, coughed and fought for air in his sleep, awakened in
+smoke, rubbed his eyes to make sure and, scorning trousers and shirt,
+ran clad in his red woolen undergarments to the corral, where he mounted
+his scared horse and rode for the desert and safety.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, swearing at the marksmanship of a man who fired at his head
+and perforated his sombrero, saw a crimson rider sweep down upon him,
+said rider being heralded by a blazing .44.
+
+"Gosh!" ejaculated Mr. Cassidy, scarcely believing his eyes. "Oh, it's
+my friend Slim going to hades," he remarked to himself in audible and
+relieved explanation. Mr. Cassidy's Colts cracked a protest and then he
+joined Mr. Peters and the others and with them fought his way out of the
+flame-swept town of Cactus Springs.
+
+An hour later Mr. Connors glanced behind him at the smoke silhouetted on
+the horizon and pushed his way to where Mr. Cassidy rode in silence. Mr.
+Connors grinned at his friend of the red hair, who responded in the same
+manner.
+
+"Did yu see Slim?" Casually inquired Mr. Connors, looking off to the
+south.
+
+Mr. Cassidy sat upright in his saddle and felt of his Colts. "Yes," he
+replied, "I saw him."
+
+Mr. Connors thereupon galloped on in silence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. Rustlers on the Range
+
+
+The affair at Cactus Springs had more effect on the life at the Bar-20
+than was realized by the foreman. News travels rapidly, and certain
+men, whose attributes were not of the sweetest, heard of it and swore
+vengeance, for Slim Travennes had many friends, and the result of his
+passing began to show itself. Outlaws have as their strongest defense
+the fear which they inspire, and little time was lost in making
+reprisals, and these caused Buck Peters to ride into Buckskin one bright
+October morning and then out the other side of the town. Coming to
+himself with a start he looked around shamefacedly and retraced his
+course. He was very much troubled, for, as foreman of the Bar-20, he
+had many responsibilities, and when things ceased to go aright he was
+expected not only to find the cause of the evil, but also the remedy.
+That was what he was paid seventy dollars a month for and that was what
+he had been endeavoring to do. As yet, however, he had only accomplished
+what the meanest cook's assistant had done. He knew the cause of his
+present woes to be rustlers (cattle thieves), and that was all.
+
+Riding down the wide, quiet street, he stopped and dismounted before the
+ever-open door of a ramshackle, one-story frame building. Tossing the
+reins over the flattened ears of his vicious pinto he strode into the
+building and leaned easily against the bar, where he drummed with his
+fingers and sank into a reverie.
+
+A shining bald pate, bowed over an open box, turned around and
+revealed a florid face, set with two small, twinkling blue eyes, as the
+proprietor, wiping his hands on his trousers, made his way to Buck's end
+of the bar.
+
+"Mornin', Buck. How's things?"
+
+The foreman, lost in his reverie, continued to stare out the door.
+
+"Mornin'," repeated the man behind the bar. "How's things?"
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated the foreman, smiling, "purty cussed."
+
+"Anything flew?"
+
+"Th' C-80 lost another herd last night."
+
+His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, but
+the latter shook his head. "Not this mornin'--I'll try one of them vile
+cigars, however."
+
+"Them cigars are th' very best that--" began the proprietor, executing
+the order.
+
+"Oh, heck!" exclaimed Buck with weary disgust. "Yu don't have to palaver
+none: I shore knows all that by heart."
+
+"Them cigars--" repeated the proprietor.
+
+"Yas, yas; them cigars--I know all about them cigars. Yu gets them for
+twenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a hundred,"
+replied the foreman, biting off the end 'of his weed. Then he stared
+moodily and frowned. "I wonder why it is?" He asked. "We punchers like
+good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What do we get? Why,
+cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol an' extract for
+our drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a sumptious layout, pays
+less an' gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one of them K. C. cigars yu'd
+shore have to ask what it was, an' as for the liquor, why, yu'd think
+St. Peter asked yu to have one with him. It's shore wrong somewhere."
+
+"They have more trade in K. C.," suggested the proprietor.
+
+"An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,
+mahogany an' French mirrors," countered the foreman.
+
+"They have more trade," reiterated the man with the cigars.
+
+"Forty men spend thirty dollars apiece with yu every month." The
+proprietor busied himself under the bar. "Yu'll feel better to-morrow.
+Anyway, what do yu care, yu won't lose yore job," he said, emerging.
+
+Buck looked at him and frowned, holding back the words which formed in
+anger. What was the use, he thought, when every man judged the world in
+his own way.
+
+"Have yu seen any of th' boys?" He asked, smiling again.
+
+"Nary a boy. Who do yu reckon's doin' all this rustlin'?"
+
+"I'm reckonin', not shoutin'," responded the foreman.
+
+The proprietor looked out the window and grinned: "Here comes one of
+yourn now."
+
+The newcomer stopped his horse in a cloud of dust, playfully kicked the
+animal in the ribs and entered, dusting the alkali from him with a huge
+sombrero. Then he straightened up and sniffed: "What's burnin'?" he
+asked, simulating alarm. Then he noticed the cigar between the teeth of
+his foreman and grinned: "Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck."
+
+"Hullo, Hopalong," said the foreman. "Want a smoke?" Waving his hand
+toward the box on the bar.
+
+Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette: "Shore,
+but I'll burn my own--I know what it is."
+
+"What was yu doin' to my cayuse afore yu come in?" Asked Buck.
+
+"Nothin'," replied the newcomer. "That was mine what I kicked in th'
+corrugations."
+
+"How is it yore ridin' the calico?" Asked the foreman. "I thought yu was
+dead stuck on that piebald."
+
+"That piebald's a goat; he's beein livin' off my pants lately,"
+responded Hopalong. "Every time I looks th' other way he ambles over and
+takes a bite at me. Yu just wait 'til this rustler business is roped,
+an' branded, an' yu'll see me eddicate that blessed scrapheap into
+eatin' grass again." He swiped Billy's shirt th' other day--took it right
+off th' corral wall, where Billy's left it to dry. Then, seeing Buck
+raise his eyebrows, he explained: "Shore, he washed it again. That makes
+three times since last fall."
+
+The proprietor laughed and pushed out the ever-ready bottle, but
+Hopalong shoved it aside and told the reason: "Ever since I was up to K.
+C. I've been spoiled. I'm drinkin' water an' slush."
+
+"For Pete's sake, has any more of yu fellers been up to K. C.?" queried
+the proprietor in alarm.
+
+"Shore: Red an' Billy was up there, too." responded Hopalong. "Red's got
+a few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer. Yu better send for
+some decent stuff afore he comes to town," he warned.
+
+Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar. Then he
+turned to Hopalong. "What did you find?" He asked.
+
+"Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain--then nothin'."
+
+"It shore beats me," soliloquized the foreman. "It shore beats me."
+
+"Think it was Tamale Jose's old gang?" Asked Hopalong.
+
+"If it was they took th' wrong trail home--that ain't th' way to Mexico."
+
+Hopalong tossed aside his half-smoked cigarette. "Well, come on home;
+what's th' use stewin' over it? It'll come out all O.K. in th' wash."
+Then he laughed: "There won't be no piebald waitin' for it."
+
+Evading Buck's playful blow he led the way to the door, and soon
+they were a cloud of dust on the plain. The proprietor, despairing of
+customers under the circumstances, absent-mindedly wiped oil on the bar,
+and sought his chair for a nap, grumbling about the way his trade had
+fallen off, for there were few customers, and those who did call were
+heavy with loss of sleep, and with anxiety, and only paused long enough
+to toss off their drink. On the ranges there were occurrences which
+tried men's souls.
+
+For several weeks cattle had been disappearing from the ranges and the
+losses had long since passed the magnitude of those suffered when Tamale
+Jose and his men had crossed the Rio Grande and repeatedly levied heavy
+toll on the sleek herds of the Pecos Valley. Tamale Jose had raided once
+too often, and prosperity and plenty had followed on the ranches and the
+losses had been forgotten until the fall round-ups clearly showed that
+rustlers were again at work.
+
+Despite the ingenuity of the ranch owners and the unceasing vigilance
+and night rides of the cow-punchers, the losses steadily increased until
+there was promised a shortage which would permit no drive to the western
+terminals of the railroad that year. For two weeks the banks of the Rio
+Grande had been patrolled and sharp-eyed men searched daily for trails
+leading southward, for it was not strange to think that the old raiders
+were again at work, notwithstanding the fact that they had paid dearly
+for their former depredations.
+
+The patrols failed to discover anything out of the ordinary and the
+searchers found no trails. Then it was that the owners and foremen of
+the four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon and sat closeted together
+for all of one hot afternoon.
+
+The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the ranches
+represented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode north, his
+destination being far-away Montana. All the ranches within a radius of
+a hundred miles received letters and blanks and one week later the Pecos
+Valley Cattle-Thief Elimination Association was organized and working,
+with Buck as Chief Ranger.
+
+One of the outcomes of Buck's appointment was a sudden and marked
+immigration into the affected territory. Mr. Connors returned from
+Montana with Mr. Frenchy McAllister, the foreman of the Tin-Cup, who was
+accompanied by six of his best and most trusted men. Mr. McAllister and
+party were followed by Mr. You-bet Somes, foreman of the Two-X-Two of
+Arizona, and five of his punchers, and later on the same day Mr. Pie
+Willis, accompanied by Mr. Billy Jordan and his two brothers, arrived
+from the Panhandle. The O-Bar-O, situated close to the town of Muddy
+Wells, increased its payroll by the addition of nine men, each of whom
+bore the written recommendation of the foreman of the Bar-20. The C-80,
+Double Arrow and the Three Triangle also received heavy reinforcements,
+and even Carter, owner of the Barred Horseshoe, far removed from the
+zone of the depredations, increased his outfits by half their regular
+strength.
+
+Buck believed that if a thing was worth doing at all that it was worth
+doing very well, and his acquaintances were numerous and loyal. The
+collection of individuals that responded to the call were noteworthy
+examples of "gun-play" and their aggregate value was at par with twice
+their numbers in cavalry.
+
+
+Each ranch had one large ranch-house and numerous line-houses scattered
+along the boundaries. These latter, while intended as camps for the
+outriders, had been erected in the days, none too remote, when Apaches,
+Arrapahoes, and even Cheyennes raided southward, and they had been
+constructed with the idea of defense paramount. Upon more than one
+occasion a solitary line-rider had retreated within their adobe walls
+and had successfully resisted all the cunning and ferocity of a score
+of paint-bedaubed warriors and, when his outfit had rescued him, emerged
+none the worse for his ordeal.
+
+On the Bar-20, Buck placed these houses in condition to withstand seige.
+Twin barrels of water stood in opposite corners, provisions were stored
+on the hanging shelves and the bunks once again reveled in untidiness.
+Spare rifles, in pattern ranging from long-range Sharp's and buffalo
+guns to repeating rifles, leaned against the walls, and unbroken boxes
+of cartridges were piled above the bunks. Instead of the lonesome
+outrider, he placed four men to each house, two of whom were to remain
+at home and hold the house while their companions rode side by side on
+their multi-mile beat.
+
+There were six of these houses and, instead of returning each night to
+the same line-house, the outriders kept on and made the circuit,
+thus keeping every one well informed and breaking the monotony. These
+measures were expected to cause the rustling operations to cease at
+once, but the effect was to shift the losses to the Double Arrow, the
+line-houses of which boasted only one puncher each. Unreasonable economy
+usually defeats its object.
+
+The Double Arrow was restricted on the north by the Staked Plain, which
+in itself was considered a superb defense. The White Sand Hills formed
+its eastern boundary and were thought to be second only to the northern
+protection. The only reason that could be given for the hitherto
+comparative immunity from the attacks of the rustlers was that its
+cattle clung to the southern confines where there were numerous springs,
+thus making imperative the crossing of its territory to gain the herds.
+
+It was in line-house No. 3, most remote of all, that Johnny Redmond
+fought his last fight and was found face down in the half ruined house
+with a hole in the back of his head, which proved that one man was
+incapable of watching all the loop holes in four walls at once. There
+must have been some casualties on the other side, for Johnny was reputed
+to be very painstaking in his "gunplay," and the empty shells which lay
+scattered on the floor did not stand for as many ciphers, of that his
+foreman was positive.
+
+He was buried the day he was found, and the news of his death ran
+quickly from ranch to ranch and made more than one careless puncher
+arise and pace the floor in anger. More men came to the Double Arrow and
+its sentries were doubled. The depredations continued, however, and
+one night a week later Frank Swift reeled into the ranch-house and fell
+exhausted across the supper table. Rolling hoof-beats echoed flatly
+and died away on the plain, but the men who pursued them returned empty
+handed. The wounds of the unfortunate were roughly dressed and in his
+delirium he recounted the fight. His companion was found literally shot
+to pieces twenty paces from the door. One wall was found blown in, and
+this episode, when coupled with the use of dynamite, was more than could
+be tolerated.
+
+When Buck had been informed of this he called to him Hopalong Cassidy,
+Red Connors and Frenchy McAllister, and the next day the three men rode
+north and the contingents of the ranches represented in the Association
+were divided into two squads, one of which was to remain at home and
+guard the ranches; the other, to sleep fully dressed and armed and never
+to stray far from their ranch-houses and horses. These latter would be
+called upon to ride swiftly and far when the word came.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Trendley Assumes Added Importance
+
+
+That the rustlers were working under a well organized system was
+evident. That they were directed by a master of the game was ceaselessly
+beaten into the consciousness of the Association by the diversity, dash
+and success of their raids. No one, save the three men whom they had
+destroyed, had ever seen them. But, like Tamale Jose, they had raided
+once too often.
+
+Mr. Trendley, more familiarly known to men as "Slippery," was the
+possessor of a biased conscience, if any at all. Tall, gaunt and
+weather-beaten and with coal-black eyes set deep beneath hairless
+eyebrows, he was sinister and forbidding. Into his forty-five years of
+existence he had crowded a century of experience, and unsavory rumors
+about him existed in all parts of the great West. From Canada to Mexico
+and from Sacramento to Westport his name stood for brigandage. His
+operations had been conducted with such consummate cleverness that in
+all the accusations there was lacking proof.
+
+Only once had he erred, and then in the spirit of pure deviltry and in
+the days of youthful folly, and his mistake was a written note. He
+was even thought by some to have been concerned in the Mountain Meadow
+Massacre; others thought him to have been the leader of the band of
+outlaws that had plundered along the Santa Fe Trail in the late '60's.
+In Montana and Wyoming he was held responsible for the outrages of the
+band that had descended from the Hole-in-the-Wall territory and for over
+a hundred miles carried murder and theft that shamed as being weak the
+most assiduous efforts of zealous Cheyennes. It was in this last raid
+that he had made the mistake and it was in this raid that Frenchy
+McAllister had lost his wife.
+
+When Frenchy had first been approached by Buck as to his going in search
+of the rustlers he had asked to go alone. This had been denied by the
+foreman of the Bar-20 because the men whom he had selected to accompany
+the scout were of such caliber that their presence could not possibly
+form a hindrance. Besides being his most trusted friends they were
+regarded by him as being the two best exponents of "gun-play" that the
+West afforded. Each was a specialist: Hopalong, expert beyond belief
+with his Colt's six-shooters, was only approached by Red, whose
+Winchester was renowned for its accuracy. The three made a perfect
+combination, as the rashness of the two younger men would be under the
+controlling influence of a man who could retain his coolness of mind
+under all circumstances.
+
+When Buck and Frenchy looked into each other's eyes there sprang into
+the mind of each the same name--Slippery Trendley. Both had spent the
+greater part of a year in fruitless search for that person, the foreman
+of the Tin-Cup in vengeance for the murder of his wife, the blasting of
+his prospects and the loss of his herds; Buck, out of sympathy for his
+friend and also because they had been partners in the Double Y. Now that
+the years had passed and the long-sought-for opportunity was believed
+to be at hand, there was promised either a cessation of the outrages or
+that Buck would never again see his friends.
+
+When the three mounted and came to him for final instructions Buck
+forced himself to be almost repellent in order to be capable of coherent
+speech. Hopalong glanced sharply at him and then understood, Red was all
+attention and eagerness and remarked nothing but the words.
+
+"Have yu ever heard of Slippery Trendley?" Harshly inquired the foreman.
+
+They nodded, and on the faces of the younger men a glint of hatred
+showed itself, but Frenchy wore his poker countenance.
+
+Buck continued: "Th' reason I asked yu was because I don't want yu to
+think yore goin' on no picnic. I ain't shore it's him, but I've had
+some hopeful information. Besides, he is th' only man I knows of who's
+capable of th' plays that have been made. It's hardly necessary for me
+to tell yu to sleep with one eye open and never to get away from yore
+guns. Now I'm goin' to tell yu th' hardest part: yu are goin' to search
+th' Staked Plain from one end to th' other, an' that's what no white
+man's ever done to my knowledge.
+
+"Now, listen to this an' don't forget it. Twenty miles north from Last
+Stand Rock is a spring; ten miles south of that bend in Hell Arroyo is
+another. If yu gets lost within two days from th' time yu enters th'
+Plain, put yore left hand on a cactus sometime between sun-up an'
+noon, move around until yu are over its shadow an' then ride straight
+ahead--that's south. If you goes loco beyond Last Stand Rock, follow th'
+shadows made before noon--that's th' quickest way to th' Pecos. Yu all
+knows what to do in a sand-storm, so I won't bore you with that. Repeat
+all I've told yu," he ordered and they complied.
+
+"I'm tellin' yu this," continued the foreman, indicating the two
+auxiliaries, "because yu might get separated from Frenchy. Now I
+suggests that yu look around near the' Devils Rocks: I've heard that
+there are several water holes among them, an' besides, they might be
+turned into fair corrals. Mind yu, I know what I've said sounds damned
+idiotic for anybody that has had as much experience with th' Staked
+Plain as I have, but I've had every other place searched for miles
+around. Th' men of all th' ranches have been scoutin' an' th' Plain is
+th' only place left. Them rustlers has got to be found if we have to dig
+to hell for them. They've taken th' pot so many times that they reckons
+they owns it, an' we've got to at least make a bluff at drawin' cards.
+Mebby they're at th' bottom of th' Pecos," here he smiled faintly, "but
+wherever they are, we've got to find them. I want to holler 'Keno."
+
+"If you finds where they hangs out come away instanter," here his face
+hardened and his eyes narrowed, "for it'll take more than yu three
+to deal with them th' way I'm a-hankerin' for. Come right back to th'
+Double Arrow, send me word by one of their punchers an' get all the rest
+you can afore I gets there. It'll take me a day to get th' men together
+an' to reach yu. I'm goin' to use smoke signals to call th' other
+ranches, so there won't be no time lost. Carry all th' water yu can pack
+when yu leaves th' Double Arrow an' don't depend none on cactus juice.
+Yu better take a pack horse to carry it, an' yore grub--yu can shoot it
+if yu have to hit th' trail real hard."
+
+The three riders felt of their accouterments, said "So long," and
+cantered off for the pack horse and extra ammunition. Then they rode
+toward the Double Arrow, stopping at Cowan's long enough to spend some
+money, and reached the Double Arrow at nightfall. Early the next morning
+they passed the last line-house and, with the profane well-wishes of
+its occupants ringing in their ears, passed onto one of Nature's worst
+blunders--the Staked Plain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. The Search Begins
+
+
+As the sun arose it revealed three punchers riding away from
+civilization. On all sides, stretching to the evil-appearing horizon,
+lay vast blotches of dirty-white and faded yellow alkali and sand.
+Occasionally a dwarfed mesquite raised its prickly leaves and rustled
+mournfully. With the exception of the riders and an occasional Gila
+monster, no life was discernible. Cacti of all shapes and sizes reared
+aloft their forbidding spines or spread out along the sand. All was
+dead, ghastly; all was oppressive, startlingly repellent in its sinister
+promise; all was the vastness of desolation.
+
+Hopalong knew this portion of the desert for ten miles inward--he had
+rescued straying cattle along its southern rim--but once beyond that
+limit they would have to trust to chance and their own abilities. There
+were water holes on this skillet, but nine out of ten were death traps,
+reeking with mineral poisons, colored and alkaline. The two mentioned by
+Buck could not be depended on, for they came and went, and more than one
+luckless wanderer had depended on them to allay his thirst, and had died
+for his trust.
+
+So the scouts rode on in silence, noting the half-buried skeletons of
+cattle which were strewn plentifully on all sides. Nearly three per
+cent, of the cattle belonging to the Double Arrow yearly found death
+on this tableland, and the herds of that ranch numbered many thousand
+heads. It was this which made the Double Arrow the poorest of the
+ranches, and it was this which allowed insufficient sentries in its
+line-houses. The skeletons were not all of cattle, for at rare intervals
+lay the sand-worn frames of men.
+
+On the morning of the second day the oppression increased with the wind
+and Red heaved a sigh of restlessness. The sand began to skip across the
+plain, in grains at first and hardly noticeable. Hopalong turned in his
+saddle and regarded the desert with apprehension. As he looked he
+saw that where grains had shifted handfuls were now moving. His mount
+evinced signs of uneasiness and was hard to control.
+
+A gust of wind, stronger than the others, pricked his face and grains
+of sand rolled down his neck. The leather of his saddle emitted strange
+noises as if a fairy tattoo was being beaten upon it and he raised his
+hand and pointed off toward the east. The others looked and saw what had
+appeared to be a fog rise out of the desert and intervene between them
+and the sun. As far as eye could reach small whirlwinds formed and broke
+and one swept down and covered them with stinging sand. The day became
+darkened and their horses whinnied in terror and the clumps of mesquite
+twisted and turned to the gusts.
+
+Each man knew what was to come upon them and they dismounted, hobbled
+their horses and threw them bodily to the earth, wrapping a blanket
+around the head of each. A rustling as of paper rubbing together became
+noticeable and they threw themselves flat upon the earth, their heads
+wrapped in their coats and buried in the necks of their mounts. For
+an hour they endured the tortures of hell and then, when the storm had
+passed, raised their heads and cursed Creation. Their bodies burned
+as though they had been shot with fine needles and their clothes were
+meshes where once was tough cloth. Even their shoes were perforated and
+the throat of each ached with thirst.
+
+Hopalong fumbled at the canteen resting on his hip and gargled his mouth
+and throat, washing down the sand which wouldn't come up. His friends
+did likewise and then looked around. After some time had elapsed the
+loss of their pack horse was noticed and they swore again. Hopalong took
+the lead in getting his horse ready for service and then rode around in
+a circle half a mile in diameter, but returned empty handed. The horse
+was gone and with it went their main supply of food and drink.
+
+Frenchy scowled at the shadow of a cactus and slowly rode toward the
+northeast, followed closely by his friends. His hand reached for his
+depleted canteen, but refrained--water was to be saved until the last
+minute.
+
+"I'm goin' to build a shack out here an' live in it, I am!" exploded
+Hopalong in withering irony as he dug the sand out of his ears and also
+from his sixshooter. "I just nachurally dotes on this, I do!"
+
+The others were too miserable to even grunt and he neatly severed the
+head of a Gila monster from its scaly body as it opened it venomous jaws
+in rage at this invasion of its territory. "Lovely place!" he sneered.
+
+"You better save them cartridges, Hoppy," interposed Red as his
+companion fired again, feeling that he must say something.
+
+"An' what for?" blazed his friend. "To plug sand storms? Anybody what we
+find on this God-forsaken lay-out won't have to be shot--they will commit
+suicide an' think it's fun! Tell yu what, if them rustlers hangs out on
+this sand range they're better men than I reckons they are. Anybody what
+hides up here shore earns all he steals." Hopalong grumbled from force
+of habit and because no one else would. His companions understood this
+and paid no attention to him, which increased his disgust.
+
+"What are we up here for?" He asked, belligerently. "Why, because them
+Double Arrow idiots can't even watch a desert! We have to do their work
+for them an' they hangs around home an' gets slaughtered! Yes, sir!"
+he shouted, "they can't even take care of themselves when they're in
+line-houses what are forts. Why, that time we cleaned out them an' th'
+C-80 over at Buckskin they couldn't help runnin' into singin' lead!"
+
+"Yes," drawled Red, whose recollection of that fight was vivid. "Yas,
+an' why?" He asked, and then replied to his own question. "Because yu
+sat up in a barn behind them, Buck played his gun on th' side window,
+Pete an' Skinny lay behind a rock to one side of Buck, me an' Lanky
+was across th' Street in front of them, an' Billy an' Johnny was in th'
+arroyo on th' other side. Cowan laid on his stummick on th' roof of his
+place with a buffalo gun, an' the whole blamed town was agin them. There
+wasn't five seconds passed that lead wasn't rippin' through th' walls
+of their shack. Th' Houston House wasn't made for no fort, an' besides,
+they wasn't like th' gang that's punchin' now. That's why."
+
+Hopalong became cheerful again, for here was a chance to differ from his
+friend. The two loved each other the better the more they squabbled.
+
+"Yas!" responded Hopalong with sarcasm. "Yas!" he reiterated, drawling
+it out. "Yu was in front of them, an' with what? Why, an' old,
+white-haired, interfering Winchester, that's what! Me an' my Sharp's--"
+
+"Yu and yore Sharp's!" exploded Red, whose dislike for that rifle was
+very pronounced. "Yu and yore Sharp's."
+
+"Me an' my Sharp's, as I was palaverin' before bein' interrupted,"
+continued Hopalong, "did more damage in five min--"
+
+"Says yu!" snapped Red with heat. "All yu an yore Sharp's could do was
+to cut yore initials in th' back door of their shack, an'----"
+
+"Did more damage in five minutes," continued Hopalong, "than all th'
+blasted Winchesters in th' whole damned town. Why--"
+
+"An' then they was cut blamed poor. Every time that cannon of yourn
+exploded I shore thought th'--"
+
+"Why, Cowan an' his buffalo did more damage (Cowan was reputed to be a
+very poor shot) than yu an--"
+
+"I thought th' artillery was comin' into th' disturbance. I could see
+yore red head--"
+
+"MY red head!" exclaimed Hopalong, sizing up the crimson warlock of his
+companion. "MY red head!" he repeated, and then turned to Frenchy: "Hey,
+Frenchy, who's got th' reddest hair, me or Red?"
+
+Frenchy slowly turned in his saddle and gravely scrutinized them.
+Being strictly impartial and truthful, he gave up the effort of
+differentiating and smiled. "Why, if the tops of yore heads were poked
+through two holes in a board an' I didn't know which was which, I'd
+shore make a mistake if I tried to name 'em"
+
+But Red had the last word. "Anyhow, you didn't have a Sharp's in that
+fight--you had a .45-70 Winchester, just like mine!"
+
+Thereupon the discussion was directed at the judge, and the forenoon
+passed very pleasantly, Frenchy even smiling in his misery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. Hopalong's Decision
+
+
+Shortly after noon, Hopalong, who had ridden with his head bowed low in
+meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh. Then he looked at Red and
+grinned.
+
+"Look ahere, Red," he began, "there ain't no rustlers with their
+headquarters on this God-forsaken sand heap, an' there never was. They
+have to have water an' lots of it, too, an' th' nearest of any account
+is th' Pecos, or some of them streams over in th' Panhandle. Th'
+Panhandle is th' best place. There are lots of streams an' lakes over
+there an' they're right in a good grass country. Why, an' army could
+hide over there an' never be found unless it was hunted for blamed good.
+Then, again, it's close to the railroad. Up north aways is th' south
+branch of th' Santa Fe Trail an' it's far enough away not to bother
+anybody in th' middle Panhandle. Then there's Fort Worth purty near,
+an' other trails. Didn't Buck say he had all th' rest of th' country
+searched? He meant th' Pecos Valley an th' Davis Mountains country. All
+th' rustlers would have to do if they were in th' Panhandle would be to
+cross th' Canadian an th' Cimarron an' hit th' trail for th' railroad.
+Good fords, good grass an' water all th' way, cattle fat when they
+are delivered an plenty of room. Th' more I thinks about it th' more I
+cottons to the Panhandle."
+
+"Well, it shore does sound good," replied Red, reflectively.
+
+"Do yu mean th' Cunningham Lake region or farther north?"
+
+"Just th' other side of this blasted desert: anywhere where there's
+water," responded Hopalong, enthusiastically. "I've been doin' some hot
+reckonin' for th' last two hours an' this is th' way it looks to me:
+they drives th' cows up on this skillet for a ways, then turns east an'
+hits th' trail for home an' water. They can get around th' ca on near
+Thatcher's Lake by a swing of th' north. I tell yu that's th' only way
+out'n this. Who could tell where they turned with th' wind raisin' th'
+deuce with the trail? Didn't we follow a trail for a ways, an' then
+what? Why, there wasn't none to follow. We can ride north 'till we walk
+behind ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I am in favor of headin'
+for th' Sulphur Spring Creek district. We can spend a couple of weeks,
+if we has to, an' prospect that whole region without havin' to cut
+our' water down to a smell an' a taste an live on jerked beef. If we
+investigates that country we'll find something else than sand storms,
+poisoned water holes an' blisters."
+
+"Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?" Inquired Red,
+doubtfully.
+
+"Along th' Canadian an' th' edges, yas; in th' middle, no," explained
+Hopalong. "They hang close together on account of th' war-whoops, an'
+they like th' trails purty well because of there allus bein' somebody
+passin'."
+
+"Buck ought to send some of th' Panhandle boys up there," suggested Red.
+"There's Pie Willis an' th' Jordans--they knows th' Panhandle like yu
+knows poker."
+
+Frenchy had paid no apparent attention to the conversation up to this
+point, but now he declared himself. "Yu heard what Buck said, didn't
+yu?" He asked. "We were told to search th' Staked Plains from one end to
+th' other an' I'm goin' to do it if I can hold out long enough. I ain't
+goin' to palaver with yu because what yu say can't be denied as far as
+wisdom is concerned. Yu may have hit it plumb center, but I knows what
+I was ordered to do, an' yu can't get me to go over there if you shouts
+all night. When Buck says anything, she goes. He wants to know where th'
+cards are stacked an' why he can't holler 'Keno,' an' I'm goin' to find
+out if I can. Yu can go to Patagonia if yu wants to, but yu go alone as
+far as I am concerned."
+
+"Well, it's better if yu don't go with us," replied Hopalong, taking it
+for granted that Red would accompany him. "Yu can prospect this end of
+th' game an' we'll be takin' care of th' other. It's two chances now
+where we only had one afore."
+
+"Yu go east an' I'll hunt around as ordered," responded Frenchy.
+
+"East nothin'," replied Hopalong. "Yu don't get me to wallow in hot
+alkali an' lose time ridin' in ankle-deep sand when I can hit th' south
+trail, skirt th' White Sand Hills an' be in God's country again. I ain't
+goin' to wrastle with no ca on this here trip, none whatever. I'm goin'
+to travel in style, get to Big Spring by ridin' two miles to where I
+could only make one on this stove. Then I'll head north along Sulpher
+Spring Creek an' have water an' grass all th' way, barrin' a few
+stretches. While you are bein' fricasseed I'll be streakin' through
+cottonwood groves an' ridin' in the creek."
+
+"Yu'll have to go alone, then," said Red, resolutely. "Frenchy ain't
+a-goin' to die of lonesomeness on this desert if I knows what I'm about,
+an' I reckon I do, some. Me an' him'll follow out what Buck said, hunt
+around for a while an' then Frenchy can go back to th' ranch to tell
+Buck what's up an' I'll take th' trail yu are a-scared of an' meet yu at
+th' east end of Cunningham Lake three days from now."
+
+"Yu better come with me," coaxed Hopalong, not liking what his friend
+had said about being afraid of the trail past the ca on and wishing to
+have some one with whom to talk on his trip. "I'm goin' to have a nice
+long swim to-morrow night," he added, trying bribery.
+
+"An' I'm goin' to try to keep from hittin' my blisters," responded Red.
+"I don't want to go swimmin' in no creek full of moccasins--I'd rather
+sleep with rattlers or copperheads. Every time I sees a cotton-mouth I
+feels like I had just sit down on one.
+
+"I'll flip a coin to see whether yu comes or not," proposed Hopalong.
+
+"If yu wants to gamble so bad I'll flip yu to see who draws our pay
+next month, but not for what you said," responded Red, choking down the
+desire to try his luck.
+
+Hopalong grinned and turned toward the south. "If I sees Buck afore yu
+do, I'll tell him yu an' Frenchy are growin' watermelons up near Last
+Stand Rock an' are waitin' for rain. Well, so long," he said.
+
+"Yu tell Buck we're obeyin' orders!" shouted Red, sorry that he was not
+going with his bunkie.
+
+Frenchy and Red rode on in silence, the latter feeling strangely
+lonesome, for he and the departed man had seldom been separated when
+journeys like this were to be taken. And when in search of pleasure they
+were nearly always together. Frenchy, while being very friendly with
+Hopalong, a friendship that would have placed them side by side against
+any odds, was not accustomed to his company and did not notice his
+absence.
+
+Red looked off toward the south for the tenth time and for the tenth
+time thought that his friend might return. "He's a son-of-a-gun," he
+soliloquized.
+
+His companion looked up: "He shore is, an' he's right about this rustler
+business, too. But we'll look around for a day or so an' then yu raise
+dust for th' Lake. I'll go back to th' ranch an' get things primed, so
+there'll be no time lost when we get th' word."
+
+"I'm sorry I went an' said what I did about me takin' th' trail he was
+a-scared of," confessed Red, after a pause. "Why, he ain't a-scared of
+nothin'."
+
+"He got back at yu about them watermelons, so what's th' difference?"
+Asked Frenchy. "He don't owe yu nothin'."
+
+An hour later they searched the Devil's Rocks, but found no rustlers.
+Filling their canteens at a tiny spring and allowing their mounts to
+drink the remainder of the water, they turned toward Hell Arroyo, which
+they reached at nightfall. Here, also, their search availed them nothing
+and they paused in indecision. Then Frenchy turned toward his companion
+and advised him to ride toward the Lake in the night when it was
+comparatively cool.
+
+Red considered and then decided that the advice was good. He rolled a
+cigarette, wheeled and faced the east and spurred forward: "So long," he
+called.
+
+"So long," replied Frenchy, who turned toward the south and departed for
+the ranch.
+
+The foreman of the Bar-20 was cleaning his rifle when he heard the
+hoof-beats of a galloping horse and he ran around the corner of the
+house to meet the newcomer, whom he thought to be a courier from the
+Double Arrow. Frenchy dismounted and explained why he returned alone.
+
+Buck listened to the report and then, noting the fire which gleamed in
+his friend's eyes, nodded his approval to the course. "I reckon it's
+Trendley, Frenchy--I've heard a few things since yu left. An' yu can
+bet that if Hopalong an' Red have gone for him he'll be found. I expect
+action any time now, so we'll light th' signal fire." Then he hesitated;
+"Yu light it--yu've been waiting a long time for this."
+
+The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other balls
+at different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to feed the
+numbers of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next twenty-four
+hours.
+
+Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three
+Triangle, followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O. The
+outfits of the Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all,
+came next and had scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the
+Double Arrow, fretting at the delay, rode up. With the sixteen from
+the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious
+cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. A Problem Solved
+
+
+Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus
+cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He
+camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his
+journey. It was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an
+hour later he passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow.
+Half an hour later he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad. Thinking
+that an investigation would not be out of place, he rode after the rider
+and overtook him, when that person paused and retraced his course.
+
+"Hullo, Hopalong!" shouted the puncher and he came near enough to
+recognize his pursuer. "Thought yu was farmin' up on th' Staked Plain?"
+
+"Hullo, Pie," replied Hopalong, recognizing Pie Willis. "What was yu
+chasin' so hard?"
+
+"Coyote--damn 'em, but can't they go some? They're gettin' so thick we'll
+shore have to try strichnine an' thin 'em out."
+
+"I thought anybody that had been raised in th' Panhandle would know
+better'n to chase greased lightnin'," rebuked Hopalong. "Yu has got
+about as much show catchin' one of them as a tenderfoot has of bustin'
+an outlawed cayuse."
+
+"Shore; I know it," responded Pie, grinning. "But it's fun seem'
+them hunt th' horizon. What are yu doin' down here an' where are yore
+pardners?"
+
+Thereupon Hopalong enlightened his inquisitive companion as to what had
+occurred and as to his reasons for riding south.
+
+Pie immediately became enthusiastic and announced his intention
+of accompanying Hopalong on his quest, which intention struck that
+gentleman as highly proper and wise. Then Pie hastily turned and
+played at chasing coyotes in the direction of the line-house, where he
+announced that his absence would be accounted for by the fact that
+he and Hopalong were going on a journey of investigation into the
+Panhandle. Billy Jordan who shared with Pie the accommodations of the
+house, objected and showed, very clearly, why he was eminently better
+qualified to take up the proposed labors than his companions. The
+suggestions were fast getting tangled up with the remarks, when Pie,
+grabbing a chunk of jerked beef, leaped into his saddle and absolutely
+refused to heed the calls of his former companion and return. He rode to
+where Hopalong was awaiting him as if he was afraid he wasn't going to
+live long enough to get there. Confiding to his companion that Billy
+was a "locoed sage hen," he led the way along the base of the White Sand
+Hills and asked many questions. Then they turned toward the east and
+galloped hard.
+
+It had been Hopalong's intention to carry out what he had told Red and
+to go to Big Spring first and thence north along Sulphur Spring Creek,
+but to this his guide strongly dissented. There was a short cut, or
+several of them for that matter, was Pie's contention, and any one
+of them would save a day's hard riding. Hopalong made no objection to
+allowing his companion to lead the way over any trail he saw fit, for
+he knew that Pie had been born and brought up in the Panhandle, the
+Cunningham Lake district having been his back yard, as it were. So they
+followed the short cut having the most water and grass, and pounded out
+a lively tattoo as they raced over the stretches of sand which seemed to
+slide beneath them.
+
+"What do yu know about this here business?" Inquired Pie, as they raced
+past a chaparral and onto the edge of a grassy plain.
+
+"Nothin' more'n yu do, only Buck said he thought Slippery Trendley is at
+th' bottom of it."
+
+"What!" ejaculated Pie in surprise. "Him!"
+
+"Yore on. An' between yu an' me an' th' Devil, I wouldn't be a heap
+surprised if Deacon Rankin is with him, neither."
+
+Pie whistled: "Are him an' th' Deacon pals?"
+
+"Shore," replied Hopalong, buttoning up his vest and rolling a
+cigarette. "Didn't they allus hang out together! One watched that
+th' other didn't get plugged from behind. It was a sort of
+yu-scratch-my-back-an'-I'll-scratch-yourn arrangement."
+
+"Well, if they still hangs out together, I know where to hunt for our
+cows," responded Pie. "Th' Deacon used to range along th' headwaters
+of th' Colorado--it ain't far from Cunningham Lake. Thunderation!" he
+shouted, "I knows th' very ground they're on--I can take yu to th' very
+shack!" Then to himself he muttered: "An' that doodlebug Billy Jordan
+thinkin' he knowed more about th' Panhandle than me!"
+
+Hopalong showed his elation in an appropriate manner and his companion
+drank deeply from the proffered flask; Thereupon they treated their
+mounts to liberal doses of strap-oil and covered the ground with great
+speed.
+
+They camped early, for Hopalong was almost worn out from the exertions
+of the past few days and the loss of sleep he had sustained. Pie,
+too excited to sleep and having had unbroken rest for a long period,
+volunteered to keep guard, and his companion eagerly consented.
+
+Early the next morning they broke camp and the evening of the same day
+found them fording Sulphur Spring Creek, and their quarry lay only an
+hour beyond, according to Pie. Then they forded one of the streams which
+form the headwaters of the Colorado, and two hours later they dismounted
+in a cottonwood grove. Picketing their horses, they carefully made their
+way through the timber, which was heavily grown with brush, and, after
+half an hour's maneuvering, came within sight of the further edge.
+
+Dropping down on all fours, they crawled to the last line of brush and
+looked out over an extensive bottoms. At their feet lay a small river,
+and in a clearing on the farther side was a rough camp, consisting of
+about a dozen leanto shacks and log cabins in the main collection, and a
+few scattered cabins along the edge. A huge fire was blazing before
+the main collection of huts, and to the rear of these was an indistinct
+black mass, which they knew to be the corral.
+
+At a rude table before the fire more than a score of men were eating
+supper and others could be heard moving about and talking at different
+points in the background. While the two scouts were learning the lay of
+the land, they saw Mr. Trendley and Deacon Rankin walk out of the cabin
+most distant from the fire, and the latter limped. Then they saw two men
+lying on rude cots, and they wore bandages. Evidently Johnny Redmond had
+scored in his fight.
+
+The odor of burning cowhide came from the corral, accompanied by the
+squeals of cattle, and informed them that brands were being blotted out.
+Hopalong longed to charge down and do some blotting out of another kind,
+but a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder and he silently wormed his
+way after Pie as that person led the way back to the horses. Mounting,
+they picked their way out of the grove and rode over the plain at a
+walk. When far enough away to insure that the noise made by their horses
+would not reach the ears of those in the camp they cantered toward the
+ford they had taken on the way up.
+
+After emerging from the waters of the last forded stream, Pie raised his
+hand and pointed off toward the northwest, telling his companion to
+take that course to reach Cunningham Lake. He himself would ride south,
+taking, for the saving of time, a yet shorter trail to the Double Arrow,
+from where he would ride to Buck. He and the others would meet Hopalong
+and Red at the split rock they had noticed on their way up.
+
+Hopalong shook hands with his guide and watched him disappear into the
+night. He imagined he could still catch whiffs of burning cowhide and
+again the picture of the camp came to his mind. Glancing again at the
+point where Pie had disappeared, he stuffed his sombrero under a strap
+on his saddle and slowly rode toward the lake. A coyote slunk past him
+on a time-destroying lope and an owl hooted at the foolishness of
+men. He camped at the base of a cottonwood and at daylight took up his
+journey after a scanty breakfast from his saddle-bags.
+
+Shortly before noon he came in sight of the lake and looked for his
+friend. He had just ridden around a clump of cotton-woods when he was
+hit on the back with something large and soft. Turning in his saddle,
+with his Colts ready, he saw Red sitting on a stump, a huge grin
+extending over his features. He replaced the weapon, said something
+about fools and dismounted, kicking aside the bundle of grass his friend
+had thrown.
+
+"Yore shore easy," remarked Red, tossing aside his cold cigarette.
+"Suppose I was Trendley, where would yu be now?"
+
+"Diggin' a hole to put yu in," pleasantly replied Hopalong. "If I didn't
+know he wasn't around this part of the country I wouldn't a rode as I
+did."
+
+The man on the stump laughed and rolled a fresh cigarette. Lighting it,
+he inquired where Mr. Trendley was, intimating by his words that the
+rustler had not been found.
+
+"About thirty miles to th' southeast," responded the other. "He's
+figurin' up how much dust he'll have when he gets our cows on th'
+market. Deacon Rankin is with him, too."
+
+"Th' deuce!" exclaimed Red, in profound astonishment.
+
+"Yore right," replied his companion. Then he explained all the
+arrangements and told of the camp.
+
+Red was for riding to the rendezvous at once, but his friend thought
+otherwise and proposed a swim, which met with approval. After enjoying
+themselves in the lake they dressed and rode along the trail Hopalong
+had made in coming for his companion, it being the intention of
+the former to learn more thoroughly the lay of the land immediately
+surrounding the camp. Red was pleased with this, and while they rode
+he narrated all that had taken place since the separation on the Plain,
+adding that he had found the trail left by the rustlers after they had
+quitted the desert and that he had followed it for the last two hours of
+his journey. It was well beaten and an eighth of a mile wide.
+
+At dark they came within sight of the grove and picketed their horses at
+the place used by Pie and Hopalong. Then they moved forward and the same
+sight greeted their eyes that had been seen the night before. Keeping
+well within the edge of the grove and looking carefully for sentries,
+they went entirely around the camp and picked out several places which
+would be of strategic value later on. They noticed that the cabin used
+by Slippery Trendley was a hundred paces from the main collection of
+huts and that the woods came to within a tenth part of that distance
+of its door. It was heavily built, had no windows and faced the wrong
+direction.
+
+Moving on, they discovered the storehouse of the enemy, another tempting
+place. It was just possible, if a siege became necessary, for several
+of the attacking force to slip up to it and either destroy it by fire
+or take it and hold it against all comers. This suggested a look at the
+enemy's water supply, which was the river. A hundred paces separated it
+from the nearest cabin and any rustler who could cross that zone under
+the fire of the besiegers would be welcome to his drink.
+
+It was very evident that the rustlers had no thought of defense,
+thinking, perhaps, that they were immune from attack with such a well
+covered trail between them and their foes. Hopalong mentally accused
+them of harboring suicidal inclinations and returned with his companion
+to the horses. They mounted and sat quietly for a while, and then rode
+slowly away and at dawn reached the split rock, where they awaited the
+arrival of their friends, one sleeping while the other kept guard. Then
+they drew a rough map of the camp, using the sand for paper, and laid
+out the plan of attack.
+
+As the evening of the next day came on they saw Pie, followed by many
+punchers, ride over a rise a mile to the south and they rode out to meet
+him.
+
+When the force arrived at the camp of the two scouts they were shown the
+plan prepared for them. Buck made a few changes in the disposition of
+the men and then each member was shown where he was to go and was told
+why. Weapons were put in a high state of efficiency, canteens were
+refilled and haversacks were somewhat depleted. Then the newcomers
+turned in and slept while Hopalong and Red kept guard.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. The Call
+
+
+At three o'clock the next morning a long line of men slowly filed
+into the cottonwood grove, being silently swallowed up by the dark.
+Dismounting, they left their horses in the care of three of their number
+and disappeared into the brush. Ten minutes later forty of the force
+were distributed along the edge of the grove fringing on the bank of the
+river and twenty more minutes gave ample time for a detachment of twenty
+to cross the stream and find concealment in the edge of the woods which
+ran from the river to where the corral made an effective barrier on the
+south.
+
+Eight crept down on the western side of the camp and worked their way
+close to Mr. Trendley's cabin door, and the seven who followed this
+detachment continued and took up their positions at the rear of the
+corral, where, it was hoped, some of the rustlers would endeavor to
+escape into the woods by working their way through the cattle in the
+corral and then scaling the stockade wall. These seven were from the
+Three Triangle and the Double Arrow, and they were positive that any
+such attempt would not be a success from the view-point of the rustlers.
+
+Two of those who awaited the pleasure of Mr. Trendley crept forward, and
+a rope swished through the air and settled over the stump which lay most
+convenient on the other side of the cabin door. Then the slack moved
+toward the woods, raised from the ground as it grew taut and, with
+the stump for its axis, swung toward the door, where it rubbed gently
+against the rough logs. It was made of braided horsehair, was half an
+inch in diameter and was stretched eight inches above the ground.
+
+As it touched the door, Lanky Smith, Hopalong and Red stepped out of the
+shelter of the woods and took up their positions behind the cabin, Lanky
+behind the northeast corner where he would be permitted to swing his
+right arm. In his gloved right hand he held the carefully arranged coils
+of a fifty-foot lariat, and should the chief of the rustlers escape
+tripping he would have to avoid the cast of the best roper in the
+southwest.
+
+The two others took the northwest corner and one of them leaned slightly
+forward and gently twitched the tripping-rope. The man at the other end
+felt the signal and whispered to a companion, who quietly disappeared in
+the direction of the river and shortly afterward the mournful cry of a
+whip-poor-will dirged out on the early morning air. It had hardly died
+away when the quiet was broken by one terrific crash of rifles, and the
+two camp guards asleep at the fire awoke in another world.
+
+Mr. Trendley, sleeping unusually well for the unjust, leaped from his
+bed to the middle of the floor and alighted on his feet and wide
+awake. Fearing that a plot was being consummated to deprive him of his
+leadership, he grasped the Winchester which leaned at the head of his
+bed and, tearing open the door, crashed headlong to the earth. As he
+touched the ground, two shadows sped out from the shelter of the cabin
+wall and pounced upon him. Men who can rope, throw and tie a wild steer
+in thirty seconds flat do not waste time in trussing operations, and
+before a minute had elapsed he was being carried into the woods,
+bound and helpless. Lanky sighed, threw the rope over one shoulder and
+departed after his friends.
+
+When Mr. Trendley came to his senses he found himself bound to a tree in
+the grove near the horses. A man sat on a stump not far from him, three
+others were seated around a small fire some distance to the north, and
+four others, one of whom carried a rope, made their way into the brush.
+He strained at his bonds, decided that the effort was useless and
+watched the man on the stump, who struck a match and lit a pipe. The
+prisoner watched the light flicker up and go out and there was left in
+his mind a picture that he could never forget. The face which had been
+so cruelly, so grotesquely revealed was that of Frenchy McAllister, and
+across his knees lay a heavy caliber Winchester. A curse escaped from
+the lips of the outlaw; the man on the stump spat at a firefly and
+smiled.
+
+From the south came the crack of rifles, incessant and sharp. The
+reports rolled from one end of the clearing to the other and seemed to
+sweep in waves from the center of the line to the ends. Faintly in the
+infrequent lulls in the firing came an occasional report from the rear
+of the corral, where some desperate rustler paid for his venture.
+
+Buck went along the line and spoke to the riflemen, and after some time
+had passed and the light had become stronger, he collected the men into
+groups of five and six. Taking one group and watching it closely, it
+could be seen that there was a world of meaning in this maneuver. One
+man started firing at a particular window in an opposite hut and then
+laid aside his empty gun and waited. When the muzzle of his enemy's gun
+came into sight and lowered until it had nearly gained its sight level,
+the rifles of the remainder of the group crashed out in a volley and
+usually one of the bullets, at least, found its intended billet. This
+volley firing became universal among the besiegers and the effect was
+marked.
+
+Two men sprinted from the edge of the woods near Mr. Trendley's cabin
+and gained the shelter of the storehouse, which soon broke out in
+flames. The burning brands fell over the main collection of huts, where
+there was much confusion and swearing. The early hour at which the
+attack had been delivered at first led the besieged to believe that
+it was an Indian affair, but this impression was soon corrected by the
+volley firing, which turned hope into despair. It was no great matter
+to fight Indians, that they had done many times and found more or less
+enjoyment in it; but there was a vast difference between brave and
+puncher, and the chances of their salvation became very small. They
+surmised that it was the work of the cow-men on whom they had preyed
+and that vengeful punchers lay hidden behind that death-fringe of green
+willow and hazel.
+
+Red, assisted by his inseparable companion, Hopalong, laboriously
+climbed up among the branches of a black walnut and hooked one leg over
+a convenient limb. Then he lowered his rope and drew up the Winchester
+which his accommodating friend fastened to it. Settling himself in a
+comfortable position and sheltering his body somewhat by the tree, he
+shaded his eyes by a hand and peered into the windows of the distant
+cabins.
+
+"How is she, Red?" Anxiously inquired the man on the ground.
+
+"Bully: want to come up?"
+
+"Nope. I'm goin' to catch yu when yu lets go," replied Hopalong with a
+grin.
+
+"Which same I ain't goin' to," responded the man in the tree.
+
+He swung his rifle out over a forked limb and let it settle in the
+crotch. Then he slew his head around until he gained the bead he wished.
+Five minutes passed before he caught sight of his man and then he fired.
+Jerking out the empty shell he smiled and called out to his friend:
+"One."
+
+Hopalong grinned and went off to tell Buck to put all the men in trees.
+
+Night came on and still the firing continued. Then an explosion shook
+the woods. The storehouse had blown up and a sky full of burning timber
+fell on the cabins and soon three were half consumed, their occupants
+dropping as they gained the open air. One hundred paces makes fine
+pot-shooting, as Deacon Rankin discovered when evacuation was the choice
+necessary to avoid cremation. He never moved after he touched the ground
+and Red called out: "Two," not knowing that his companion had departed.
+
+The morning of the next day found a wearied and hopeless garrison, and
+shortly before noon a soiled white shirt was flung from a window in the
+nearest cabin. Buck ran along the line and ordered the firing to cease
+and caused to be raised an answering flag of truce. A full minute
+passed and then the door slowly opened and a leg protruded, more slowly
+followed by the rest of the man, and Cheyenne Charley strode out to
+the bank of the river and sat down. His example was followed by several
+others and then an unexpected event occurred. Those in the cabins who
+preferred to die fighting, angered at this desertion, opened fire on
+their former comrades, who barely escaped by rolling down the slightly
+inclined bank into the river. Red fired again and laughed to himself.
+Then the fugitives swam down the river and landed under the guns of the
+last squad. They were taken to the rear and, after being bound, were
+placed under a guard. There were seven in the party and they looked worn
+out.
+
+When the huts were burning the fiercest the uproar in the corral arose
+to such a pitch as to drown all other sounds. There were left within its
+walls a few hundred cattle whose brands had not yet been blotted out,
+and these, maddened to frenzy by the shooting and the flames, tore from
+one end of the enclosure to the other, crashing against the alternate
+walls with a noise which could be heard far out on the plain. Scores
+were trampled to death on each charge and finally the uproar subsided
+in sheer want of cattle left with energy enough to continue. When the
+corral was investigated the next day there were found the bodies of four
+rustlers, but recognition was impossible.
+
+Several of the defenders were housed in cabins having windows in the
+rear walls, which the occupants considered fortunate. This opinion
+was revised, however, after several had endeavored to escape by these
+openings. The first thing that occurred when a man put his head out was
+the hum of a bullet, and in two cases the experimenters lost all need of
+escape.
+
+The volley firing had the desired effect, and at dusk there remained
+only one cabin from which came opposition. Such a fire was concentrated
+on it that before an hour had passed the door fell in and the firing
+ceased. There was a rush from the side, and the Barred Horseshoe men
+who swarmed through the cabins emerged without firing a shot. The
+organization that had stirred up the Pecos Valley ranches had ceased to
+exist.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. The Showdown
+
+
+A fire burned briskly in front of Mr. Trendley's cabin that night and
+several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways. Two men leaned
+against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and the range.
+One of them, Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, sang in his sweet tenor, and
+other men gradually strolled up and seated themselves on the ground,
+where the fitful gleam of responsive pipes and cigarettes showed like
+fireflies. The songs followed one after another, first a lover's plea in
+soft Spanish and then a rollicking tale of the cow-towns and men. Supper
+had long since been enjoyed and all felt that life was, indeed, well
+worth living.
+
+A shadow loomed against the cabin wall and a procession slowly made its
+way toward the open door. The leader, Hopalong, disappeared within and
+was followed by Mr. Trendley, bound and hobbled and tied to Red, the
+rear being brought up by Frenchy, whose rifle lolled easily in the
+crotch of his elbow. The singing went on uninterrupted and the hum of
+voices between the selections remained unchanged. Buck left the crowd
+around the fire and went into the cabin, where his voice was heard
+assenting to something. Hopalong emerged and took a seat at the fire,
+sending two punchers to take his place. He was joined by Frenchy and
+Red, the former very quiet.
+
+In the center of a distant group were seven men who were not armed.
+Their belts, half full of cartridges, supported empty holsters. They sat
+and talked to the men around them, swapping notes and experiences, and
+in several instances found former friends and acquaintances. These men
+were not bound and were apparently members of Buck's force. Then one of
+them broke down, but quickly regained his nerve and proposed a game
+of cards. A fire was started and several games were immediately in
+progress. These seven men were to die at daybreak.
+
+As the night grew older man after man rolled himself in his blanket
+and lay down where he sat, sinking off to sleep with a swiftness that
+bespoke tired muscles and weariness. All through the night, however,
+there were twelve men on guard, of whom three were in the cabin.
+
+At daybreak a shot from one of the guards awakened every man within
+hearing, and soon they romped and scampered down to the river's edge
+to indulge in the luxury of a morning plunge. After an hour's horseplay
+they trooped back to the cabin and soon had breakfast out of the way.
+
+Waffles, foreman of the O-Bar-O, and You-bet Somes strolled over to the
+seven unfortunates who had just completed a choking breakfast and nodded
+a hearty "Good morning." Then others came up and finally all moved off
+toward the river. Crossing it, they disappeared into the grove and all
+sounds of their advance grew into silence.
+
+Mr. Trendley, escorted outside for the air, saw the procession as it
+became lost to sight in the brush. He sneered and asked for a smoke,
+which was granted. Then his guards were changed and the men began to
+straggle back from the grove.
+
+Mr. Trendley, with his back to the cabin, scowled defiantly at the crowd
+that hemmed him in. The coolest, most damnable murderer in the West was
+not now going to beg for mercy. When he had taken up crime as a means
+of livelihood he had decided that if the price to be paid for his course
+was death, he would pay like a man. He glanced at the cottonwood grove,
+wherein were many ghastly secrets, and smiled. His hairless eyebrows
+looked like livid scars and his lips quivered in scorn and anger.
+
+As he sneered at Buck there was a movement in the crowd before him and a
+pathway opened for Frenchy, who stepped forward slowly and deliberately,
+as if on his way to some bar for a drink. There was something different
+about the man who had searched the Staked Plain with Hopalong and Red:
+he was not the same puncher who had arrived from Montana three weeks
+before. There was lacking a certain air of carelessness and he chilled
+his friends, who looked upon him as if they had never really known him.
+He walked up to Mr. Trendley and gazed deeply into the evil eyes.
+
+Twenty years before, Frenchy McAllister had changed his identity from
+a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care cow-puncher and became a machine. The
+grief that had torn his soul was not of the kind which seeks its outlet
+in tears and wailing; it had turned and struck inward, and now his
+deliberate ferocity was icy and devilish. Only a glint in his eyes told
+of exultation, and his words were sharp and incisive; one could well
+imagine one heard the click of his teeth as they bit off the consonants:
+every letter was clear-cut, every syllable startling in its clearness.
+
+"Twenty years and two months ago to-day," he began, "you arrived at the
+ranchhouse of the Double Y, up near the Montana-Wyoming line. Everything
+was quiet, except, perhaps, a woman's voice, singing. You entered, and
+before you left you pinned a note to that woman's dress. I found it, and
+it is due."
+
+The air of carelessness disappeared from the members of the crowd and
+the silence became oppressive. Most of those present knew parts of
+Frenchy's story, and all were in hearty accord with anything he might
+do. He reached within his vest and brought forth a deerskin bag. Opening
+it, he drew out a package of oiled silk and from that he took a paper.
+Carefully replacing the silk and the bag, he slowly unfolded the sheet
+in his hand and handed it to Buck, whose face hardened. Two decades had
+passed since the foreman of the Bar-20 had seen that precious sheet, but
+the scene of its finding would never fade from his memory. He stood as
+if carved from stone, with a look on his face that made the crowd shift
+uneasily and glance at Trendley.
+
+Frenchy turned to the rustler and regarded him evilly. "You are the
+hellish brute that wrote that note," pointing to the paper in the hand
+of his friend. Then, turning again, he spoke: "Buck, read that paper."
+
+The foreman cleared his throat and read distinctly:
+
+
+"McAllister: Yore wife is too blame good to live.
+
+                                         TRENDLEY."
+
+
+There was a shuffling sound, but Buck and Frenchy, silently backed up by
+Hopalong and Red, intervened, and the crowd fell back, where it surged
+in indecision.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Frenchy, "I want you to vote on whether any man here
+has more right to do with Slippery Trendley as he sees fit than myself.
+Any one who thinks so, or that he should be treated like the others,
+step forward. Majority rules."
+
+There was no advance and he spoke again: "Is there any one here who
+objects to this man dying?"
+
+Hopalong and Red awkwardly bumped their knuckles against their guns and
+there was no response.
+
+The prisoner was bound with cowhide to the wall of the cabin and four
+men sat near and facing him. The noonday meal was eaten in silence, and
+the punchers rode off to see about rounding up the cattle that grazed
+over the plain as far as eye could see. Supper-time came and passed,
+and busy men rode away in all directions. Others came and relieved the
+guards, and at midnight another squad took up the vigil.
+
+Day broke and the thunder of hoofs as the punchers rounded up the cattle
+became very noticeable. One herd swept past toward the south, guarded
+and guided by fifteen men. Two hours later and another followed, taking
+a slightly different trail so as to avoid the close-cropped grass left
+by the first. At irregular intervals during the day other herds swept
+by, until six had passed and denuded the plain of cattle.
+
+Buck, perspiring and dusty, accompanied by Hopalong and Red, rode up
+to where the guards smoked and joked. Frenchy came out of the cabin
+and smiled at his friends. Swinging in his left hand was a newly filled
+Colt's .45, which was recognized by his friends as the one found in the
+cabin and it bore a rough "T" gouged in the butt.
+
+Buck looked around and cleared his throat: "We've got th' cows on th'
+home trail, Frenchy," he suggested.
+
+"Yas?" Inquired Frenchy. "Are there many?"
+
+"Yas," replied Buck, waving his hand at the guards, ordering them to
+follow their friends. "It's a good deal for us: we've done right smart
+this hand. An' it's a good thing we've got so many punchers: we got a
+lot of cattle to drive."
+
+"About five times th' size of th' herd that blamed near made angels
+out'en me an' yu," responded Frenchy with a smile.
+
+"I hope almighty hard that we don't have no stampedes on this here
+drive. If th' last herds go wild they'll pick up th' others, an' then
+there'll be th' devil to pay."
+
+Frenchy smiled again and shot a glance at where Mr. Trendley was bound
+to the cabin wall.
+
+Buck looked steadily southward for some time and then flecked a foam-sud
+from the flank of his horse. "We are goin' south along th' Creek until
+we gets to Big Spring, where we'll turn right smart to th' west. We
+won't be able to average more'n twelve miles a day, 'though I'm goin' to
+drive them hard. How's yore grub?"
+
+"Grub to burn."
+
+"Got yore rope?" Asked the foreman of the Bar-20, speaking as if the
+question had no especial meaning.
+
+Frenchy smiled: "Yes."
+
+Hopalong absent-mindedly jabbed his spurs into his mount with the result
+that when the storm had subsided the spell was broken and he said "So
+long," and rode south, followed by Buck and Red. As they swept out of
+sight behind a grove Red turned in his saddle and waved his hat. Buck
+discussed with assiduity the prospects of a rainfall and was very
+cheerful about the recovery of the stolen cattle. Red could see a tall,
+broad-shouldered man standing with his feet spread far apart, swinging a
+Colt's .45, and Hopalong swore at everything under the sun. Dust arose in
+streaming clouds far to the south and they spurred forward to overtake
+the outfits.
+
+Buck Peters, riding over the starlit plain, in his desire to reach the
+first herd, which slept somewhere to the west of him under the care
+of Waffles, thought of the events of the past few weeks and gradually
+became lost in the memories of twenty years before, which crowded up
+before his mind like the notes of a half-forgotten song. His nature,
+tempered by two decades of a harsh existence, softened as he lived again
+the years that had passed and as he thought of the things which had
+been. He was so completely lost in his reverie that he failed to hear
+the muffled hoofbeats of a horse that steadily gained upon him, and when
+Frenchy McAllister placed a friendly hand on his shoulder he started as
+if from a deep sleep.
+
+The two looked at each other and their hands met. The question which
+sprang into Buck's eyes found a silent answer in those of his friend.
+They rode on side by side through the clear night and together drifted
+back to the days of the Double Y.
+
+After an hour had passed, the foreman of the Bar-20 turned to his
+companion and then hesitated:
+
+"Did, did--was he a cur?"
+
+Frenchy looked off toward the south and, after an interval, replied:
+"Yas." Then, as an after thought, he added, "Yu see, he never reckoned
+it would be that way."
+
+Buck nodded, although he did not fully understand, and the subject was
+forever closed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. Mr. Cassidy Meets a Woman
+
+
+The work of separating the cattle into herds of the different brands
+was not a big contract, and with so many men it took but a comparatively
+short time, and in two days all signs of the rustlers had faded. It was
+then that good news went the rounds and the men looked forward to a
+week of pleasure, which was all the sharper accentuated by the grim
+mercilessness of the expedition into the Panhandle. Here was a chance
+for unlimited hilarity and a whole week in which to give strict
+attention to celebrating the recent victory.
+
+So one day Mr. Hopalong Cassidy rode rapidly over the plain, thinking
+about the joys and excitement promised by the carnival to be held
+at Muddy Wells. With that rivalry so common to Western towns the
+inhabitants maintained that the carnival was to break all records, this
+because it was to be held in their town. Perry's Bend and Buckskin had
+each promoted a similar affair, and if this year's festivities were
+to be an improvement on those which had gone before, they would
+most certainly be worth riding miles to see. Perry's Bend had been
+unfortunate m being the first to hold a carnival, inasmuch as it only
+set a mark to be improved upon, and Buckskin had taken advantage of this
+and had added a brass band, and now in turn was to be eclipsed.
+
+The events slated were numerous and varied, the most important being
+those which dealt directly with the everyday occupations of the
+inhabitants of that section of the country. Broncho busting,
+steer-roping and tying, rifle and revolver shooting, trick riding and
+fancy roping made up the main features of the programme and were to
+be set off by horse and foot racing and other county fair necessities.
+Altogether, the proud citizens of the town looked forward with keen
+anticipation to the coming excitements, and were prone to swagger a
+bit and to rub their hands in condescending egoism, while the crowded
+gambling halls and saloons, and the three-card-monte men on the street
+corners enriched themselves at the cost of venturesome know-it-ails.
+
+Hopalong was firmly convinced that his day of hard riding was well worth
+while, for the Bar-20 was to be represented in strength. Probably
+a clearer insight into his idea of a carnival can be gained by his
+definition, grouchily expressed to Red Connors on the day following the
+last affair: "Raise cain, go broke, wake up an' begin punching cows
+all over again." But that was the day after and the day after is always
+filled with remorse.
+
+Hopalong and Red, having twice in succession won the revolver and rifle
+competitions, respectively, hoped to make it 'Three straight.' Lanky
+Smith, the Bar-20 rope expert, had taken first prize in the only contest
+he had entered. Skinny Thompson had lost and drawn with Lefty Allen, of
+the O-Bar-O, in the broncho-busting event, but as Skinny had improved
+greatly in the interval, his friends confidently expected him to "yank
+first place" for the honor of his ranch. These expectations were backed
+with all the available Bar-20 money, and, if they were not realized,
+something in the nature of a calamity would swoop down upon and wrap
+that ranch in gloom. Since the O-Bar-O was aggressively optimistic the
+betting was at even money, hats and guns, and the losers would begin
+life anew so far as earthly possessions were concerned. No other
+competitors were considered in this event, as Skinny and Lefty had so
+far outclassed all others that the honor was believed to lie between
+these two.
+
+Hopalong, blissfully figuring out the chances of the different
+contestants, galloped around a clump of mesquite only fifteen miles from
+Muddy Wells and stiffened in his saddle, for twenty rods ahead of him on
+the trail was a woman. As she heard him approach she turned and waited
+for him to overtake her, and when she smiled he raised his sombrero and
+bowed.
+
+"Will you please tell me where I am?" She asked.
+
+"Yu are fifteen miles southeast of Muddy Wells," he replied.
+
+"But which is southeast?"
+
+"Right behind yu," he answered. "Th' town lies right ahead."
+
+"Are you going there?" She asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Then you will not care if I ride with you?" She asked. "I am a trifle
+frightened."
+
+"Why, I'd be some pleased if yu do, 'though there ain't nothing out here
+to be afraid of now."
+
+"I had no intention of getting lost," she assured him, "but I dismounted
+to pick flowers and cactus leaves and after a while I had no conception
+of where I was."
+
+"How is it yu are out here?" He asked. "Yu shouldn't get so far from
+town."
+
+"Why, papa is an invalid and doesn't like to leave his room, and the
+town is so dull, although the carnival is waking it up somewhat. Having
+nothing to do I procured a horse and determined to explore the country.
+Why, this is like Stanley and Livingstone, isn't it? You rescued the
+explorer!" And she laughed heartily. He wondered who in thunder Stanley
+and Livingstone were, but said nothing.
+
+"I like the West, it is so big and free," she continued. "But it is very
+monotonous at times, especially when compared with New York. Papa
+swears dreadfully at the hotel and declares that the food will drive him
+insane, but I notice that he eats much more heartily than he did when
+in the city. And the service!--it is awful. But when one leaves the town
+behind it is splendid, and I can appreciate it because I had such a hard
+season in the city last winter--so many balls, parties and theaters that
+I simply wore myself out."
+
+"I never hankered much for them things," Hopalong replied. "An' I don't
+like th' towns much, either. Once or twice a year I gets as far as
+Kansas City, but I soon tires of it an' hits th' back trail. Yu see, I
+don't like a fence country--I wants lots of room an' air."
+
+She regarded him intently: "I know that you will think me very forward."
+
+He smiled and slowly replied: "I think yu are all O. K."
+
+"There do not appear to be many women in this country," she suggested.
+
+"No, there ain't many," he replied, thinking of the kind to be found
+in all of the cow-towns. "They don't seem to hanker for this kind of
+life--they wants parties an' lots of dancin' an' them kind of things. I
+reckon there ain't a whole lot to tempt em to come.
+
+"You evidently regard women as being very frivolous," she replied.
+
+"Well, I'm speakin' from there not being any out here," he responded,
+"although I don't know much about them, to tell th' truth. Them what are
+out here can't be counted." Then he flushed and looked away.
+
+She ignored the remark and placed her hand to her hair:
+
+"Goodness! My hair must look terrible!"
+
+He turned and looked: "Yore hair is pretty--I allus did like brown hair."
+
+She laughed and put back the straggling locks: "It is terrible! Just
+look at it! Isn't it awful?"
+
+"Why, no: I reckons not," he replied critically. "It looks sort of free
+an' easy thataway."
+
+"Well, it's no matter, it cannot be helped," she laughed. "Let's race!"
+she cried and was off like a shot.
+
+He humored her until he saw that her mount was getting unmanageable,
+when he quietly overtook her and closed her pony's nostrils with his
+hand, the operation having a most gratifying effect.
+
+"Joe hadn't oughter let yu had this cayuse," he said.
+
+"Why, how do you know of whom I procured it?" She asked. "By th' brand:
+it's a O-Bar-O, canceled, with J. H. over it. He buys all of his cayuses
+from th' O-Bar-O."
+
+She found out his name, and, after an interval of silence, she turned to
+him with eyes full of inquiry: "What is that thorny shrub just ahead?"
+She asked.
+
+"That's mesquite," he replied eagerly.
+
+"Tell me all about it," she commanded.
+
+"Why, there ain't much to tell," he replied, "only it's a valuable tree
+out here. Th' Apaches use it a whole lot of ways. They get honey from
+th' blossoms an' glue an' gum, an' they use th' bark for tannin' hide.
+Th' dried pods an' leaves are used to feed their cattle, an' th' wood
+makes corrals to keep 'em in. They use th' wood for making other things,
+too, an' it is of two colors. Th' sap makes a dye what won't wash out,
+an' th' beans make a bread what won't sour or get hard. Then it makes a
+barrier that shore is a dandy-coyotes an' men can't get through it, an'
+it protects a whole lot of birds an' things. Th' snakes hate it like
+poison, for th' thorns get under their scales an' whoops things up for
+'em. It keeps th' sand from shiftin', too. Down South where there is
+plenty of water, it often grows forty feet high, but up here it squats
+close to th' ground so it can save th' moisture. In th' night th'
+temperature sometimes falls thirty degrees, an' that helps it, too."
+
+"How can it live without water?" She asked.
+
+"It gets all th' water it wants," he replied, smiling. "Th' tap roots
+go straight down 'til they find it, sometimes fifty feet. That's why it
+don't shrivel up in th' sun. Then there are a lot of little roots right
+under it an' they protects th' tap roots. Th' shade it gives is th'
+coolest out here, for th' leaves turn with th' wind an' lets th' breeze
+through-they're hung on little stems."
+
+"How splendid!" she exclaimed. "Oh! Look there!" she cried, pointing
+ahead of them. A chaparral cock strutted from its decapitated enemy, a
+rattlesnake, and disappeared in the chaparral.
+
+Hopalong laughed: "Mr. Scissors-bill Road-runner has great fun with
+snakes. He runs along th' sand-an' he can run, too--an' sees a snake
+takin' a siesta. Snip! goes his bill an' th' snake slides over th'
+Divide. Our fighting friend may stop some coyote's appetite before
+morning, though, unless he stays where he is."
+
+Just then a gray wolf blundered in sight a few rods ahead of them, and
+Hopalong fired instantly. His companion shrunk from him and looked at
+him reproachfully.
+
+"Why did you do that!" she demanded.
+
+"Why, because they costs us big money every year," he replied. "There's
+a bounty on them because they pull down calves, an' sometimes full grown
+cows. I'm shore wonderin' why he got so close--they're usually just out
+of range, where they stays."
+
+"Promise me that you will shoot no more while I am with you.
+
+"Why, shore: I didn't think yu'd care," he replied. "Yu are like that
+sky-pilot over to Las Cruces--he preached agin killin' things, which is
+all right for him, who didn't have no cows."
+
+"Do you go to the missions?" She asked.
+
+He replied that he did, sometimes, but forgot to add that it was usually
+for the purpose of hilarity, for he regarded sky-pilots with humorous
+toleration.
+
+"Tell me all about yourself--what you do for enjoyment and all about your
+work," she requested.
+
+He explained in minute detail the art of punching cows, and told her
+more of the West in half an hour than she could have learned from a
+year's experience. She showed such keen interest in his words that it
+was a pleasure to talk to her, and he monopolized the conversation until
+the town intruded its sprawling collection of unpainted shacks and adobe
+huts in their field of vision.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. The Strategy of Mr. Peters
+
+
+Hopalong and his companion rode into Muddy Wells at noon, and Red
+Connors, who leaned with Buck Peters against the side of Tom Lee's
+saloon, gasped his astonishment. Buck looked twice to be sure, and then
+muttered incredulously: "What th' heck!" Red repeated the phrase and
+retreated within the saloon, while Buck stood his ground, having
+had much experience with women, inasmuch as he had narrowly escaped
+marrying. He thought that he might as well get all the information
+possible, and waited for an introduction. It was in vain, however, for
+the two rode past without noticing him.
+
+Buck watched them turn the corner and then called for Red to come out,
+but that person, fearing an ordeal, made no reply and the foreman went
+in after him. The timorous one was corraling bracers at the bar and
+nearly swallowed down the wrong channel when Buck placed a heavy hand on
+his broad shoulder.
+
+"G'way!" remarked Red. "I don't want no introduction, none whatever," he
+asserted. "G'way!" he repeated, backing off suspiciously.
+
+"Better wait 'til yu are asked," suggested Buck. "Better wait 'til yu
+sees th' rope afore yu duck." Then he laughed: "Yu bashful fellers make
+me plumb disgusted. Why, I've seen yu face a bunch of guns an never turn
+a hair, an' here yore all in because yu fear yu'll have to stand
+around an' hide yore hands. She won't bite yu. Anyway, from what I saw,
+Hopalong is due to be her grub--he never saw me at all, th' chump."
+
+"He shore didn't see me, none," replied Red with distinct relief. "Are
+they gone?"
+
+"Shore," answered Buck. "An' if they wasn't they wouldn't see us, not
+if we stood in front of them an' yelled. She's a hummer-stands two hands
+under him an' is a whole lot prettier than that picture Cowan has got
+over his bar. There's nothing th' matter with his eyesight, but he's
+plumb locoed, all th' same. He'll go an' get stuck on her an' then
+she'll hit th' trail for home an' mamma, an' he won't be worth his feed
+for a year." Then he paused in consternation: "Thunder, Red: he's got to
+shoot to-morrow!"
+
+"Well, suppose he has?" Responded Red. "I don't reckon she'll stampede
+his gun-play none.
+
+"Yu don't reckon, eh?" Queried Buck with much irony. "No, an' that's
+what's th' matter with yu. Why, do yu expect to see him to-morrow? Yu
+won't if I knows him an' I reckon I do. Nope, he'll be follerin' her all
+around."
+
+"He's got sand to burn," remarked Red in awe. "Wonder how he got to know
+her?"
+
+"Yu can gamble she did th' introducing part--he ain't got th' nerve to
+do it himself. He saved her life, or she thinks he did, or some romantic
+nonsense like that. So yu better go around an' get him away, an' keep
+him away, too."
+
+"Who, me?" Inquired Red in indignation. "Me go around an' tote him off?
+I ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny."
+
+"Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle
+of next week for it. He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself,"
+responded Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
+
+"Hey, yu! Wait a minute!" cried Red in consternation. Buck paused and
+Red groped for an excuse: "Why don't you send Billy?" He blurted in
+desperation.
+
+The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his
+thigh in joy: "Good boy!" he laughed. "Billy's th' man--good Lord, but
+won't he give Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic
+soul to me."
+
+Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, "Hey,
+Billy!" and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at
+his lack of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the
+accidental street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy
+steps and was trying to sing many songs at once.
+
+Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to
+starboard: "Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!" he exclaimed.
+
+Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his
+displeasure at this unwarranted action: "I ain't no wife-deserter!" he
+shouted. "Unrope me an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me!"
+Then he recognized his friend and grinned joyously: "Shore I will, but
+only one. Jus' one more, jus' one more. Yu see, m'friend, it was all
+Jimmy's fault. He--"
+
+Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating
+friend to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.
+
+"This yere," said Red in belligerent disgust, "is th' dod-blasted hero
+what's a-goin' to save Hopalong from a mournful future. What are we
+a-goin' to do?"
+
+Buck slipped the Colt's from Billy's holster and yanked the erring one
+to his feet: "Fill him full of sweet oil, source him in th' trough, walk
+him around for awhile an' see what it does," he ordered.
+
+Two hours later Billy walked up to his foreman and weakly asked what was
+wanted. He looked as though he had just been released from a six-months'
+stay in a hospital.
+
+"Yu go over to th' hotel an' find Hopalong," said the foreman sternly.
+"Stay with him all th' time, for there is a plot on foot to wing him on
+th' sly. If yu ain't mighty spry he'll be dead by night."
+
+Having delivered the above instructions and prevarications, Buck
+throttled the laugh which threatened to injure him and scowled at Red,
+who again fled into the saloon for fear of spoiling it all with revealed
+mirth.
+
+The convalescent stared in open-mouthed astonishment:
+
+"What's he doin' in th' hotel, an' who's goin' to plug him?" He asked.
+
+"Yu leave that to me," replied Buck, "All yu has to do is to get on th'
+job with yore gun," handing the weapon to him, "an' freeze to him like
+a flea on a cow. Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't
+none of yore funeral--yu do what I said."
+
+"Blast th' women!" exploded Billy, moving off. When he had entered the
+hotel Buck went in to Red.
+
+"For Pete's sake!" moaned that person in senseless reiteration. "Th'
+Lord help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!" he shouted. "Gimme a drink an' let me
+tell th' boys."
+
+The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their
+uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them.
+
+Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring
+the desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6.
+Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and
+entered.
+
+He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young
+woman, and on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly
+white-whiskered gentleman who was reading a magazine. Billy felt like a
+criminal for a few seconds and then there came to him the thought that
+his was a mission of great import and he braced himself to face any
+ordeal. "Anyway," he thought, "th' prettier they are th' more dust they
+can raise."
+
+"What are yu doing here?" Cried Hopalong in amazement.
+
+"That's all right," averred the protector, confidentially.
+
+"What's all right?"
+
+"Why, everything," replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable.
+
+The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw
+the armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth. He felt for
+his spectacles, but did not need them, for he could see nothing but the
+Colt's which Billy jabbed at him.
+
+"None of that!" snapped Billy. "'ands up!" he ordered, and the hands went
+up so quick that when they stopped the jerk shook the room. Peering over
+the gentleman's leg, Billy saw the spectacles and backed to the wall
+as he apologized: "It's shore on me, Stranger--I reckoned yu was
+contemplatin' some gun-play."
+
+Hopalong, blazing with wrath, arose and shoved Billy toward the hail,
+when Mr. Johnny Nelson, oozing fight and importance, intruded his person
+into the zone of action.
+
+"Lord!" ejaculated the newcomer, staring at the vision of female
+loveliness which so suddenly greeted him. "Mamma," he added under his
+breath. Then he tore off his sombrero: "Come out of this, Billy, yu
+chump!" he exploded, backing toward the door, being followed by the
+protector.
+
+Hopalong slammed the door and turned to his hostess, apologizing for the
+disturbance.
+
+"Who are they?" Palpitated Miss Deane.
+
+"What the deuce are they doing up here!" blazed her father. Hopalong
+disclaimed any knowledge of them and just then Billy opened the door and
+looked in.
+
+"There he is again!" cried Miss Deane, and her father gasped. Hopalong
+ran out into the hall and narrowly missed kicking Billy into Kingdom
+Come as that person slid down the stairs, surprised and indignant.
+
+Mr. Billy Williams, who sat at the top of the stairs, was feeling hungry
+and thirsty when he saw his friend, Mr. Pete Wilson, the slow witted,
+approaching.
+
+"Hey, Pete," he called, "come up here an' watch this door while I
+rustles some grub. Keep yore eyes open," he cautioned.
+
+As Pete began to feel restless the door opened and a dignified gentleman
+with white whiskers came out into the hall and then retreated with great
+haste and no dignity. Pete got the drop on the door and waited. Hopalong
+yanked it open and kissed the muzzle of the weapon before he could stop,
+and Pete grinned.
+
+"Coming to th' fight?" He loudly asked. "It's going to be a shore 'nough
+sumptious scrap--just th' kind yu allus like. Come on, th' boys are
+waitin' for yu."
+
+"Keep quiet!" hissed Hopalong.
+
+"What for?" Asked Pete in surprise. "Didn't yu say yu shore wanted to
+see that scrap?"
+
+"Shut yore face an' get scarce, or yu'll go home in cans!"
+
+As Hopalong seated himself once more Red strolled up to the door and
+knocked. Hopalong ripped it open and Red, looking as fierce and worried
+as he could, asked Hopalong if he was all right. Upon being assured by
+smoking adjectives that he was, the caller looked relieved and turned
+thoughtfully away.
+
+"Hey, yu! Come here!" called Hopalong.
+
+Red waved his hand and said that he had to meet a man and clattered
+down the stairs. Hopalong thought that he, also, had to meet a man and,
+excusing himself, hastened after his friend and overtook him in the
+Street, where he forced a confession. Returning to his hostess he told
+her of the whole outrage, and she was angry at first, but seeing the
+humorous side of it, she became convulsed with laughter. Her father
+re-read his paragraph for the thirteenth time and then, slamming the
+magazine on the floor, asked how many times he was expected to read ten
+lines before he knew what was in them, and went down to the bar.
+
+Miss Deane regarded her companion with laughing eyes and then became
+suddenly sober as he came toward her.
+
+"Go to your foreman and tell him that you will shoot to-morrow, for I
+will see that you do, and I will bring luck to the Bar-20. Be sure to
+call for me at one o'clock: I will be ready."
+
+He hesitated, bowed, and slowly departed, making his way to Tom Lee's,
+where his entrance hushed the hilarity which had reigned. Striding
+to where Buck stood, he placed his hands on his hips and searched the
+foreman's eyes.
+
+Buck smiled: "Yu ain't mad, are yu?" He asked.
+
+Hopalong relaxed: "No, but blame near it."
+
+Red and the others grabbed him from the rear, and when he had been
+"buffaloed" into good humor he threw them from him, laughed and waved
+his hand toward the bar:
+
+"Come up, yu sons-of-guns. Yore a cussed nuisance sometimes, but yore a
+bully gang all th' same."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
+
+
+Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a
+dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro
+and monte. The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was
+flush. This pleasing opulence was due to his business ability, for
+he had recently sold a claim for several thousand dollars. The first
+operation was simple, being known in Western phraseology as "jumping";
+and the second, somewhat more complicated, was known as "salting."
+
+The first of the money spent went for a complete new outfit, and he had
+parted with just three hundred and seventy dollars to feed his vanity.
+He desired something contrasty and he procured it. His sombrero, of gray
+felt a quarter of an inch thick, flaunted a band of black leather, on
+which was conspicuously displayed a solid silver buckle. His neck was
+protected by a crimson kerchief of the finest, heaviest silk. His shirt,
+in pattern the same as those commonly worn in the cow country, was of
+buckskin, soft as a baby's cheek and impervious to water, and the Angora
+goatskin chaps, with the long silken hair worn outside, were as white
+as snow. Around his waist ran loosely a broad, black leather belt
+supporting a heavy black holster, in which lay its walnut-handled
+burden, a .44 caliber six-shooter; and thirty center-fire cartridges
+peeked from their loops, fifteen on a side. His boots, the soles thin
+and narrow and the heels high, were black and of the finest leather.
+Huge spurs, having two-inch rowels, were held in place by buckskin
+straps, on which, also, were silver buckles. Protecting his hands were
+heavy buckskin gloves, also waterproof, having wide, black gauntlets.
+
+Each dainty hock of his dainty eight-hundred-pound buckskin pony was
+black, and a black star graced its forehead. Well groomed, with
+flowing mane and tail, and with the brand on its flank being almost
+imperceptible, the animal was far different in appearance from most of
+the cow-ponies. Vicious and high-spirited, it cavorted just enough to
+show its lines to the best advantage.
+
+
+The saddle, a famous Cheyenne and forty pounds in weight, was black,
+richly embossed, and decorated with bits of beaten silver which flashed
+back the sunlight. At the pommel hung a thirty-foot coil of braided
+horsehair rope, and at the rear was a Sharp's .50-caliber, breech-loading
+rifle, its owner having small use for any other make. The color of the
+bridle was the same as the saddle and it supported a heavy U bit which
+was capable of a leverage sufficient to break the animal's jaw.
+
+Tex was proud of his outfit, but his face wore a frown--not there only on
+acount of his losses, but also by reason of his mission, for under all
+his finery beat a heart as black as any in the cow country. For months
+he had smothered hot hatred and he was now on his way to ease himself of
+it.
+
+He and Slim Travennes had once exchanged shots with Hopalong in Santa
+Fe, and the month which he had spent in bed was not pleasing, and from
+that encounter had sprung the hatred. That he had been in the wrong made
+no difference with him. Some months later he had learned of the death
+of Slim, and it was due to the same man. That Slim had again been in
+the wrong also made no difference, for he realized the fact and nothing
+else.
+
+Lately he had been told of the death of Slippery Trendley and Deacon
+Rankin, and he accepted their passing as a personal affront. That they
+had been caught red-handed in cattle stealing of huge proportions and
+received only what was customary under the conditions formed no excuse
+in his mind for their passing. He was now on his way to attend the
+carnival at Muddy Wells, knowing that his enemy would be sure to be
+there.
+
+While passing through Las Cruces he met Porous Johnson and Silent Somes,
+who were thirsty and who proclaimed that fact, whereupon he relieved
+them of their torment and, looking forward to more treatment of a
+similar nature, they gladly accompanied him without asking why or where.
+
+As they left the town in their rear Tex turned in his saddle and
+surveyed them with a cynical smile.
+
+"Have yu heard anything of Trendley?" He asked.
+
+They shook their heads.
+
+"Him an' th' Deacon was killed over in th' Panhandle," he said.
+
+"What!" chorused the pair.
+
+"Jack Dorman, Shorty Danvers, Charley Teale, Stiffhat Bailey, Billy
+Jackson, Terry Nolan an' Sailor Carson was lynched."
+
+"What!" they shouted.
+
+"Fish O'Brien, Pinochle Schmidt, Tom Wilkins, Apache Gordon, Charley of
+th' Bar Y, Penobscot Hughes an' about twenty others died fightin'."
+
+Porous looked his astonishment: "Cavalry?"
+
+"An' I'm going after th' dogs who did it," he continued, ignoring the
+question. "Are yu with me?--Yu used to pal with some of them, didn't
+yu?"
+
+"We did, an' we're shore with yu!" cried Porous.
+
+"Yore right," endorsed Silent. "But who done it?"
+
+"That gang what's punchin' for th' Bar-20-Hopalong Cassidy is th' one
+I'm pining for. Yu fellers can take care of Peters an' Connors."
+
+The two stiffened and exchanged glances of uncertainty and apprehension.
+The outfit of the Bar-20 was too well known to cause exuberant joy to
+spring from the idea of war with it, and well in the center of all the
+tales concerning it were the persons Tex had named. To deliberately
+set forth with the avowed intention of planting these was not at all
+calculated to induce sweet dreams.
+
+Tex sneered his contempt.
+
+"Yore shore uneasy: yu ain't a-scared, are yu?" He drawled. Porous
+relaxed and made a show of subduing his horse: "I reckon I ain't scared
+plumb to death. Yu can deal me a hand," he asserted.
+
+"I'll draw cards too," hastily announced Silent, buttoning his vest.
+"Tell us about that jamboree over in th' Panhandle."
+
+Tex repeated the story as he had heard it from a bibulous member of the
+Barred Horseshoe, and then added a little of torture as a sauce to whet
+their appetites for revenge.
+
+"How did Trendley cash in?" Asked Porous.
+
+"Nobody knows except that bum from th' Tin-Cup. I'll get him later. I'd
+a got Cassidy up in Santa Fe, too, if it wasn't for th' sun in my eyes.
+Me an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see nothing
+with him a-standin' against th' sun."
+
+"Where's Slim now?" Asked Porous. "I ain't seen him for some time."
+
+"Slim's with Trendley," replied Tex. "Cassidy handed him over to St.
+Pete at Cactus Springs. Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an'
+his vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town
+plumb off th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own
+account. I'll prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long. It's
+cost me seventeen friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or
+make another."
+
+They entered Muddy Wells at sunrise on the day of the carnival and,
+eating a hearty breakfast, sallied forth to do their share toward making
+the festivities a success.
+
+The first step considered necessary for the acquirement of case and
+polish was begun at the nearest bar, and Tex, being the host, was so
+liberal that his friends had reached a most auspicious state when they
+followed him to Tom Lee's.
+
+Tex was too wise to lose his head through drink and had taken only
+enough to make him careless of consequences. Porous was determined to
+sing "Annie Laurie," although he hung on the last word of the first
+line until out of breath and then began anew. Silent, not wishing to be
+outdone, bawled at the top of his lungs a medley of music-hall words to
+the air of a hymn.
+
+Tex, walking as awkwardly as any cow-puncher, approached Tom Lee's, his
+two friends trailing erratically, arm in arm, in his rear. Swinging his
+arm he struck the door a resounding blow and entered, hand on gun, as it
+crashed back. Porous and Silent stood in the doorway and quarreled as
+to what each should drink and, compromising, lurched in and seated
+themselves on a table and resumed their vocal perpetrations.
+
+Tex swaggered over to the bar and tossed a quarter upon it: "Corn
+juice," he laconically exclaimed. Tossing off the liquor and glancing
+at his howling friends, he shrugged his shoulders and strode out by the
+rear door, slamming it after him. Porous and Silent, recounting friends
+who had "cashed in" fell to weeping and they were thus occupied when
+Hopalong and Buck entered, closely followed by the rest of the outfit.
+
+Buck walked to the bar and was followed by Hopalong, who declined his
+foreman's offer to treat. Tom Lee set a bottle at Buck's elbow and
+placed his hands against the bar.
+
+"Friend of yourn just hit the back trail," he remarked to Hopalong. "He
+was primed some for trouble, too," he added.
+
+"Yaas?" Drawled Hopalong with little interest.
+
+The proprietor restacked the few glasses and wiped off the bar. "Them's
+his pardners," he said, indicating the pair on the table.
+
+Hopalong turned his head and gravely scrutinized them. Porous was
+bemoaning the death of Slim Travennes and Hopalong frowned.
+
+"Don't reckon he's no relation of mine," he grunted.
+
+"Well, he ain't yore sister," replied Tom Lee, grinning.
+
+"What's his brand?" Asked the puncher.
+
+"I reckon he's a maverick, 'though yu put yore brand on him up to Santa
+Fe a couple of years back. Since he's throwed back on yore range I
+reckon he's yourn if yu wants him."
+
+"I reckon Tex is some sore," remarked Hopalong, rolling a cigarette.
+
+"I reckon he is," replied the proprietor, tossing Buck's quarter in the
+cash box. "But, say, you should oughter see his rig."
+
+"Yaas?"
+
+"He's shore a cow-punch dude--my, but he's some sumptious an'
+highfalutin'. An' bad? Why, he reckons th' Lord never brewed a more
+high-toned brand of cussedness than his'n. He shore reckons he's the
+baddest man that ever simmered."
+
+"How'd he look as th' leadin' man in a necktie festival?" Blazed Johnny
+from across the room, feeling called upon to help the conversation.
+
+"He'd be a howlin' success, son," replied Skinny Thompson, "judgin' by
+his friends what we elevated over in th' Panhandle."
+
+Lanky Smith leaned forward with his elbow on the table, resting his chin
+in the palm of his hand: "Is Ewalt still a-layin' for yu, Hopalong?" He
+asked.
+
+Hopalong turned wearily and tossed his half-consumed cigarette into the
+box of sand which did duty as a cuspidore: "I reckon so; an' he shore
+can hatch whenever he gets good an ready, too."
+
+"He's probably a-broodin' over past grievances," offered Johnny, as
+he suddenly pushed Lanky's elbow from the table, nearly causing a
+catastrophe.
+
+"Yu'll be broodin' over present grievances if yu don't look out, yu
+everlastin' nuisance yu," growled Lanky, planting his elbow in its
+former position with an emphasis which conveyed a warning.
+
+"These bantams ruflle my feathers," remarked Red. "They go around
+braggin' about th' egg they're goin' to lay an' do enough cacklin'
+to furnish music for a dozen. Then when th' affair comes off yu'll
+generally find they's been settin' on a door-knob."
+
+"Did yu ever see a hen leave th' walks of peace an' bugs an' rustle
+hell-bent across th' trail plumb in front of a cayuse?" Asked Buck.
+"They'll leave off rustlin' grub an' become candidates for th' graveyard
+just for cussedness. Well, a whole lot of men are th' same way. How many
+times have I seen them swagger into a gin shop an' try to run things
+sudden an' hard, an' that with half a dozen better men in th' same room?
+There's shore a-plenty of trouble a-comin' to every man without rustlin'
+around for more.
+
+"'Member that time yu an' Frenchy tried to run th' little town of Frozen
+Nose, up in Montana?" Asked Johnny, winking at the rest.
+
+"An' we did run it, for a while," responded Buck. "But that only goes to
+show that most young men are chumps--we were just about yore age then."
+
+Red laughed at the youngster's discomfiture: "That little squib of yourn
+shore touched her off--I reckon we irrigates on yu this time, don't we?"
+
+"Th' more th' Kid talks, th' more money he needs," remarked Lanky,
+placing his glass on the bar. "He had to blow me an' Skinny twice last
+night."
+
+"I got two more after yu left," added Skinny "He shore oughter practice
+keeping still."
+
+At one o'clock sharp Hopalong walked up to the clerk of the hotel and
+grinned. The clerk looked up:
+
+ "Hullo, Cassidy?"  He exclaimed, genially. "What was all that fuss
+about this mornin' when I was away? I haven't seen you for a long time,
+have I? How are you?"
+
+"That fuss was a fool joke of Buck's, an' I wish they had been throwed
+out," Hopalong replied. "What I want to know is if Miss Deane is in her
+room. Yu see, I have a date with her."
+
+The clerk grinned:
+
+"So she's roped you, too, has she?"
+
+"What do yu mean?" Asked Hopalong in surprise. "Well, well," laughed the
+clerk. "You punchers are easy. Any third-rate actress that looks good to
+eat can rope you fellows, all right. Now look here, Laura, you keep shy
+of her corral, or you'll be broke so quick you won't believe you ever
+had a cent: that's straight. This is the third year that she's been here
+and I know what I'm talking about. How did you come to meet her?"
+
+Hopalong explained the meeting and his friend laughed again:
+
+"Why, she knows this country like a book. She can't get lost anywhere
+around here. But she's blame clever at catching punchers."
+
+"Well, I reckon I'd better take her, go broke or not," replied Hopalong.
+"Is she in her room?"
+
+"She is, but she is not alone," responded the clerk. "There is a
+dude puncher up there with her and she left word here that she was
+indisposed, which means that you are outlawed."
+
+"Who is he?" Asked Hopalong, having his suspicions. "That friend of
+yours: Ewalt. He sported a wad this morning when she passed him, and she
+let him make her acquaintance. He's another easy mark. He'll be busted
+wide open to-night."
+
+"I reckon I'll see Tex," suggested Hopalong, starting for the stairs.
+
+"Come back, you chump!" cried the clerk. "I don't want any shooting
+here. What do you care about it? Let her have him, for it's an easy way
+out of it for you. Let him think he's cut you out, for he'll spend all
+the more freely. Get your crowd and enlighten them--it'll be better than
+a circus. This may sound like a steer, but it's straight."
+
+Hopalong thought for a minute and then leaned on the cigar case:
+
+"I reckon I'll take about a dozen of yore very best cigars, Charley. Got
+any real high-toned brands?"
+
+"Cortez panatella--two for a simoleon," Chancy replied. "But, seein' that
+it's you, I'll throw off a dollar on a dozen. They're a fool notion of
+the old man, for we can't sell one in a month."
+
+Hopalong dug up a handful and threw one on the counter, lighting
+another: "Yu light a Cortez panatella with me," he said, pocketing the
+remainder. "That's five simoleons she didn't get. So long."
+
+He journeyed to Tom Lee's and found his outfit making merry. Passing
+around his cigars he leaned against the bar and delighted in the first
+really good smoke he had since he came home from Kansas City.
+
+Johnny Nelson blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling and paused with a
+pleased expression on his face:
+
+"This is a lalapoloosa of a cigar," he cried. "Where'd yu get it, an'
+how many's left?"
+
+"I got it from Charley, an' there's more than yu can buy at fifty a
+shot."
+
+"Well, I'll just take a few for luck," Johnny responded, running out
+into the street. Returning in five minutes with both hands full of
+cigars he passed them around and grinned: "They're birds, all right!"
+
+Hopalong smiled, turned to Buck and related his conversation with
+Chancy. "What do yu think of that?" He asked as he finished.
+
+"I think Charley oughter be yore guardian," replied the foreman.
+
+"He was," replied Hopalong.
+
+"If we sees Tex we'll all grin hard," laughed Red, making for the door.
+"Come on to th' contests--Lanky's gone already."
+
+Muddy Wells streamed to the carnival grounds and relieved itself of
+its enthusiasm and money at the booths on the way. Cow-punchers rubbed
+elbows with Indians and Mexicans, and the few tourists that were present
+were delighted with the picturesque scene. The town was full of fakirs
+and before one of them stood a group of cow-punchers, apparently
+drinking in the words of a barker.
+
+"Right this way, gents, and see the woman who don't eat. Lived for two
+years without food, gents. Right this way, gents. Only a quarter of a
+dollar. Get your tickets, gents, and see--"
+
+Red pushed forward:
+
+"What did yu say, pard?" He asked. "I'm a little off in my near ear.
+What's that about eatin' a woman for two years?"
+
+"The greatest wonder of the age, gents. The wom--"
+
+"Any discount for th' gang?" Asked Buck, gawking.
+
+"Why don't yu quit smokin' an' buy th' lady a meal?" Asked Johnny from
+the center of the group.
+
+"Th' cane yu ring th' cane yu get!" came from the other side of the
+street and Hopalong purchased rings for the outfit. Twenty-four rings
+got one cane, and it was divided between them as they wended their way
+toward the grounds.
+
+"That makes six wheels she didn't get," murmured Hopalong. As they
+passed the snake charmer's booth they saw Tex and his companion ahead
+of them in the crowd, and they grinned broadly. "I like th' front row in
+th' balcony," remarked Johnny, who had been to Kansas City. "Don't cry
+in th' second act--it ain't real," laughed Red. "We'll hang John Brown on
+a sour appletree--in th' Panhandle," sang Skinny as they passed them.
+
+Arriving at the grounds they hunted up the registration committee and
+entered in the contests. As Hopalong signed for the revolver competition
+he was rudely pushed aside and Tex wrote his name under that of his
+enemy. Hopalong was about to show quick resentment for the insult, but
+thought of what Charley had said, and he grinned sympathetically. The
+seats were filling rapidly, and the outfit went along the ground looking
+for friends. A bugle sounded and a hush swept over the crowd as the
+announcement was made for the first event.
+
+"Broncho-busting-Red Devil, never ridden: Frenchy McAllister, Tin-Cup,
+Montana; Meteor, killed his man: Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, Texas; Vixen,
+never ridden: Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, Texas."
+
+All eyes were focused on the plain where the horse was being led out
+for the first trial. After the usual preliminaries had been gone through
+Frenchy walked over to it, vaulted in the saddle and the bandage was
+torn from the animal's eyes. For ten minutes the onlookers were held
+spellbound by the fight before them, and then the horse kicked and
+galloped away and Frenchy was picked up and carried from the field.
+
+"Too bad!" cried Buck, running from the outfit.
+
+"Did yu see it?" asked Johnny excitedly, "Th' cinch busted." Another
+horse was led out and Skinny Thompson vaulted to the saddle, and after
+a fight of half an hour rode the animal from the enclosure to the
+clamorous shouts of his friends. Lefty Allen also rode his mount from
+the same gate, but took ten minutes more in which to do it.
+
+The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped forward:
+"First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten seconds; second,
+Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven seconds."
+
+Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if he
+had just won a championship. They made way for him, and Johnny, who
+could not restrain his enthusiasm pounded him on the back and cried: "Yu
+old son-of-a-gun!"
+
+The announcer again came forward and gave out the competitors for the
+next contest, steer-roping and tying. Lanky Smith arose and, coiling his
+rope carefully, disappeared into the crowd. The fun was not so great in
+this, but when he returned to his outfit with the phenomenal time of six
+minutes and eight seconds for his string of ten steers, with twenty-two
+seconds for one of them, they gave him vociferous greeting. Three of his
+steers had gotten up after he had leaped from his saddle to tie them,
+but his horse had taken care of that. His nearest rival was one minute
+over him and Lanky retained the championship.
+
+Red Connors shot with such accuracy in the rifle contest as to run his
+points twenty per cent higher than Waffles, of the O-Bar-O, and won the
+new rifle.
+
+The main interest centered in the revolver contest, for it was known
+that the present champion was to defend his title against an enemy and
+fears were expressed in the crowd that there would be an "accident."
+Buck Peters and Red stood just behind the firing line with their hands
+on hips, and Tex, seeing the precautions, smiled grimly as he advanced
+to the line.
+
+Six bottles, with their necks an inch above a board, stood twenty paces
+from him, and he broke them all in as many shots, taking twelve seconds
+in which to do it. Hopalong followed him and tied the score. Three tin
+balls rolling erratically in a blanket supported by two men were
+sent flying into the air in four shots, Tex taking six seconds. His
+competitor sent them from the blanket in three shots and in the same
+time. In slow shooting from sights Tex passed his rival in points and
+stood to win. There was but one more event to be contested and in it
+Hopalong found his joy.
+
+Shooting from the hip when the draw is timed is not the sport of even
+good shots, and when Tex made sixty points out of a possible hundred, he
+felt that he had shot well. When Hopalong went to the line his
+friends knew that they would now see shooting such as would be almost
+unbelievable, that the best draw-and-shoot marksman in their State was
+the man who limped slightly as he advanced and who chewed reflectively
+on his fifty-cent cigar. He wore two guns and he stepped with confidence
+before the marshal of the town, who was also judge of the contest.
+
+The iron ball which lay on the ground was small enough for the use of a
+rifle and could hardly be seen from the rear seats of the amphitheater.
+There was a word spoken by the timekeeper, and a gloved hand flashed
+down and up, and the ball danced and spun and leaped and rolled as shot
+after shot followed it with a precision and speed which brought the
+audience to a heavy silence. Taking the gun which Buck tossed to him
+and throwing it into the empty holster, he awaited the signal, and then
+smoke poured from his hips and the ball jumped continuously. Both guns
+emptied in the two-hand shooting, he wheeled and jerked loose the guns
+which the marshal wore, spinning around without a pause, the target
+hardly ceasing in its rolling. Under his arms he shot, backward and
+between his legs; leaping from side to side, ducking and dodging,
+following the ball wherever it went. Reloading the weapons quickly,
+he stepped forward and followed the ball until once more his guns
+were empty. Then he turned and walked back to the side of the marshal,
+smiling a little. His friends, and there were many in the crowd, torn
+from their affected nonchalance by shooting the like of which they had
+not attributed even to him, roared and shouted and danced in a frenzy of
+delight.
+
+Red also threw his guns to Hopalong, who caught them in the air and
+turning, faced Tex, who stood white of face and completely lost in the
+forgetfulness of admiration and amazement. The guns jerked again and a
+button flew from the buckskin shirt of his enemy; another tore a flower
+from his breast and another drove it into the ground at his feet as
+others stirred his hair and cut the buckle off his pretty sombrero. Tex,
+dazed, but wise enough to stand quiet, felt his belt tear loose and drop
+to his feet, felt a spur rip from its strap and saw his cigarette leap
+from his lips. Throwing the guns to Red, Hopalong laughed and abruptly
+turned and was lost in the crowd.
+
+For several seconds there was silence, but when the dazed minds realized
+what their eyes had seen, there arose a roar which shook the houses in
+the town. Roar after roar thundered forth and was sent crashing back
+again by the distant walls, sweeping down on the discomfited dude and
+causing him to slink into the crowd to find a place less conspicuous. He
+was white yet and keen fear gripped his heart as he realized that he had
+come to the carnival with the expressed purpose of killing his enemy in
+fair combat. The whole town knew it, for he had taken pains to spread
+the news.
+
+The woman he had been with knew it from words which she had overheard
+while on her way to the grounds with him. His friends knew it and would
+laugh him into forgetfulness as the fool who boasted. Now he understood
+why he had lost so many friends: they had attempted what he had sworn to
+attempt. Look where he would he could see only a smoke-wrapped demon who
+moved and shot with a speed incredible. There was reason why Slim had
+died. There was reason why Porous and Silent had paled when they learned
+of their mission.
+
+He hated his conspicuous clothes and his pretty broncho, and the
+woman who had gotten him to squander his money, and who was doubtless
+convulsed with laughter at his expense. He worked himself into a passion
+which knew no fear and he ran for the streets of the town, there to
+make good his boast or to die. When he found his enemy he felt himself
+grasped with a grip of steel and Buck Peters swung him around and
+grinned maliciously in his face:
+
+"You plaything!" hoarsely whispered the foreman. "Why don't yu get away
+while yu can? Why do yu want to throw yoreself against certain death? I
+don't want my pleasure marred by a murder, an' that is what it will
+be if yu makes a gun-play at Hopalong. He'll shoot yu as he did yore
+buttons. Take yore pretty clothes an' yore pretty cayuse an' go where
+this is not known, an' if ever again yu feels like killing Hopalong, get
+drunk an' forget it."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up, by 
+Clarence Edward Mulford
+
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of BAR-20, by Clarence Edward Mulford
+[Alternate Title]
+#1 in our series by Clarence Edward Mulford
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+Title:  Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up (BAR-20)
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+Author:  Clarence Edward Mulford
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+March, 2001  [Etext #2546]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
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+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+Etext prepared by
+Andrew Heath
+
+
+
+
+
+Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up (BAR-20)
+
+by Clarence Edward Mulford
+
+
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Buckskin
+
+The town lay sprawled over half a square mile of alkali plain, its
+main Street depressing in its width, for those who were responsible
+for its inception had worked with a generosity born of the knowledge
+that they had at their immediate and unchallenged disposal the broad
+lands of Texas and New Mexico on which to assemble a grand total of
+twenty buildings, four of which were of wood.  As this material was
+scarce, and had to be brought from where the waters of the Gulf lapped
+against the flat coast, the last-mentioned buildings were a matter of
+local pride, as indicating the progressiveness of their owners.
+
+These creations of hammer and saw were of one story, crude and unpainted;
+their cheap weather sheathing, warped and shrunken by the pitiless
+sun, curled back on itself and allowed unrestricted entrance to alkali
+dust and air.  The other shacks were of adobe, and reposed in that
+magnificent squalor dear to their owners, Indians and Mexicans.
+
+It was an incident of the Cattle Trail, that most unique and
+stupendous of all modern migrations, and its founders must have been
+inspired with a malicious desire to perpetrate a crime against
+geography, or else they reveled in a perverse cussedness, for within a
+mile on every side lay broad prairies, and two miles to the east
+flowed the indolent waters of the Rio Pecos itself.  The distance
+separating the town from the river was excusable, for at certain
+seasons of the year the placid stream swelled mightily and swept down
+in a broad expanse of turbulent, yellow flood.
+
+Buckskin was a town of one hundred inhabitants, located in the
+valley of the Rio Pecos fifty miles south of the Texas-New Mexico
+line. The census claimed two hundred, but it was a well-known fact
+that it was exaggerated.  One instance of this is shown by the name of
+Tom Flynn. Those who once knew Tom Flynn, alias Johnny Redmond, alias
+Bill Sweeney, alias Chuck Mullen, by all four names, could find them
+in the census list. Furthermore, he had been shot and killed in the
+March of the year preceding the census, and now occupied a grave in
+the young but flourishing cemetery.  Perry's Bend, twenty miles up the
+river, was cognizant of this and other facts, and, laughing in open
+derision at the padded list, claimed to be the better town in all
+ways, including marksmanship.
+
+One year before this tale opens, Buck Peters, an example for the
+more recent Billy the Kid, had paid Perry's Bend a short but busy
+visit.  He had ridden in at the north end of Main Street and out at the
+south.  As he came in he was fired at by a group of ugly cowboys from a
+ranch known as the C 80.  He was hit twice, but he unlimbered his
+artillery, and before his horse had carried him, half dead, out on the
+prairie, he had killed one of the group.  Several citizens had joined
+the cowboys and added their bullets against Buck.  The deceased had
+been the best bartender in the country, and the rage of the suffering
+citizens can well be imagined.  They swore vengeance on Buck, his
+ranch, and his stamping ground.
+
+The difference between Buck and Billy the Kid is that the former
+never shot a man who was not trying to shoot him, or who had not been
+warned by some action against Buck that would call for it.  He minded
+his own business, never picked a quarrel, and was quiet and pacific up
+to a certain point.  After that had been passed he became like a raging
+cyclone in a tenement house, and storm-cellars were much in demand.
+
+"Fanning" is the name of a certain style of gun play not unknown
+among the bad men of the West.  While Buck was not a bad man, he had to
+rub elbows with them frequently, and he believed that the sauce for
+the goose was the sauce for the gander.  So be bad removed the trigger
+of his revolver and worked the hammer with the thumb of the "gun hand"
+or the heel of the unencumbered hand.  The speed thus acquired was
+greater than that of the more modern double-action weapon.  Six shots
+in a few seconds was his average speed when that number was required,
+and when it is thoroughly understood that at least some of them found
+their intended bullets it is not difficult to realize that fanning was
+an operation of danger when Buck was doing it.
+
+He was a good rider, as all cowboys are, and was not afraid of
+anything that lived.  At one time he and his chums, Red Connors and
+Hopalong Cassidy, had successfully routed a band of fifteen Apaches
+who wanted their scalps.  Of these, twelve never hunted scalps again,
+nor anything else on this earth, and the other three returned to their
+tribe with the report that three evil Spirits had chased them with
+"wheel guns" (cannons).
+
+So now, since his visit to Perry's Bend, the rivalry of the two
+towns had turned to hatred and an alert and eager readiness to
+increase the inhabitants of each other's graveyard.  A state of war
+existed, which for a time resulted in nothing worse than acrimonious
+suggestions.  But the time came when the score was settled to the
+satisfaction of one side, at least.
+
+Four ranches were also concerned in the trouble.  Buckskin was
+surrounded by two, the Bar 20 and the Three Triangle.  Perry's Bend was
+the common point for the C 80 and the Double Arrow.  Each of the two
+ranch contingents accepted the feud as a matter of course, and as a
+matter of course took sides with their respective towns.  As no better
+class of fighters ever lived, the trouble assumed Homeric proportions
+and insured a danger zone well worth watching.
+
+Bar-20's northern line was C 80's southern one, and Skinny Thompson
+took his turn at outriding one morning after the season's round-up.  He
+was to follow the boundary and turn back stray cattle.  When he had
+covered the greater part of his journey he saw Shorty Jones riding
+toward him on a course parallel to his own and about long revolver
+range away.  Shorty and he had "crossed trails" the year before and the
+best of feelings did not exist between them.
+
+Shorty stopped and stared at Skinny, who did likewise at Shorty.
+Shorty turned his mount around and applied the spurs, thereby causing
+his indignant horse to raise both heels at Skinny.  The latter took it
+all in gravely and, as Shorty faced him again, placed his left thumb
+to his nose, wiggling his fingers suggestively. Shorty took no
+apparent notice of this but began to shout:
+
+"Yu wants to keep yore busted-down cows on yore own side.  They was
+all over us day afore yisterday.  I'm goin' to salt any more what comes
+over, and don't yu fergit it, neither."
+
+Thompson wigwagged with his fingers again and shouted in reply:  "Yu
+c'n salt all yu wants to, but if I ketch yu adoin' it yu won't have to
+work no more.  An' I kin say right here thet they's more C 80 cows over
+here than they's Bar-20's over there."
+
+Shorty reached for his revolver and yelled, "Yore a liar!"
+
+Among the cowboys in particular and the Westerners in general at
+that time, the three suicidal terms, unless one was an expert in
+drawing quick and shooting straight with one movement, were the words
+"liar," "coward," and "thief." Any man who was called one of these in
+earnest, and he was the judge, was expected to shoot if he could and
+save his life, for the words were seldom used without a gun coming
+with them.  The movement of Shorty's hand toward his belt before the
+appellation reached him was enough for Skinny, who let go at long
+range-and missed.
+
+
+The two reports were as one.  Both urged their horses nearer and
+fired again.  This time Skinny's sombrero gave a sharp jerk and a hole
+appeared in the crown.  The third shot of Skinny's sent the horse of
+the other to its knees and then over on its side.  Shorty very promptly
+crawled behind it and, as he did so, Skinny began a wide circle,
+firing at intervals as Shorty's smoke cleared away.
+
+Shorty had the best position for defense, as he was in a shallow
+coul e, but he knew that he could not leave it until his opponent had
+either grown tired of the affair or had used up his ammunition.  Skinny
+knew it, too.  Skinny also knew that he could get back to the ranch
+house and lay in a supply of food and ammunition and return before
+Shorty could cover the twelve miles he had to go on foot.
+
+Finally Thompson began to head for home.  He had carried the matter
+as far as he could without it being murder.  Too much time had elapsed
+now, and, besides, it was before breakfast and he was hungry. He would
+go away and settle the score at some time when they would be on equal
+terms.
+
+He rode along the line for a mile and chanced to look back.  Two C 80
+punchers were riding after him, and as they saw him turn and discover
+them they fired at him and yelled.  He rode on for some distance and
+cautiously drew his rifle out of its long holster at his right leg.
+Suddenly he turned around in the saddle and fired twice.  One of his
+pursuers fell forward on the neck of his horse, and his comrade turned
+to help him.  Thompson wig-wagged again and rode on, reaching the ranch
+as the others were finishing their breakfast.
+
+At the table Red Connors remarked that the tardy one had a hole in
+his sombrero, and asked its owner how and where he had received it.
+
+"Had a argument with C 80 out'n th' line."
+
+"Go `way! Ventilate enny?"
+
+"One."
+
+"Good boy, sonny! Hey, Hopalong, Skinny perforated C 80 this
+mawnin'!"
+
+Hopalong Cassidy was struggling with a mouthful of beef.  He turned
+his eyes toward Red without ceasing, and grinning as well as he could
+under the circumstances managed to grunt out "Gu-," which was as near
+to "Good" as the beef would allow.
+
+Lanky Smith now chimed in as he repeatedly stuck his knife into a
+reluctant boiled potato, "How'd yu do it, Skinny?"
+
+"Bet he sneaked up on him," joshed Buck Peters; "did yu ask his
+pardin, Skinny?"
+
+"Ask nuthin'," remarked Red, "he jest nachurly walks up to C 80 an'
+sez, `Kin I have the pleasure of ventilatin' yu?' an' C So he sez, `If
+yu do it easy like,' sez he.  Didn't he, Thompson?"
+
+"They'll be some ventilatin' under th' table if yu fellows don't
+lemme alone; I'm hungry," complained Skinny.
+
+"Say, Hopalong, I bets yu I kin clean up C 80 all by my lonesome,"
+announced Buck, winking at Red.
+
+"Yah! Yu onct tried to clean up the Bend, Buckie, an' if Pete an'
+Billy hadn't afound yu when they come by Eagle Pass that night yu
+wouldn't be here eatin' beef by th' pound," glancing at the
+hard-working Hopalong.  "It was plum lucky fer yu that they was
+acourtin' that time, wasn't it, Hopalong?" suddenly asked Red.
+Hopalong nearly strangled in his efforts to speak.  He gave it
+up and nodded his head.
+
+"Why can't yu git it straight, Connors? I wasn't doin' no courtin',
+it was Pete.  I runned into him on th' other side o' th' pass.  I'd look
+fine acourtin', wouldn't I?" asked the downtrodden Williams.
+
+Pete Wilson skillfully flipped a potato into that worthy's coffee,
+spilling the beverage of the questionable name over a large expanse of
+blue flannel shirt.  "Yu's all right, yu are.  Why, when I meets yu, yu
+was lost in th' arms of yore ladylove.  All I could see was yore feet.
+Go an' git tangled up with a two hundred and forty pound half-breed
+squaw an' then try to lay it onter me! When I proposed drownin' yore
+troubles over at Cowan's, yu went an' got mad over what yu called th'
+insinooation.  An' yu shore didn't look any too blamed fine, neither."
+
+"All th' same," volunteered Thompson, who had taken the edge from
+his appetite, "we better go over an' pay C 80 a call.  I don't like
+what Shorty said about saltin' our cattle.  He'll shore do it, unless I
+camps on th' line, which same I hain't hankerin' after."
+
+"Oh, he wouldn't stop th' cows that way, Skinny; he was only
+afoolin'," exclaimed Connors meekly.
+
+"Foolin' yore gran'mother! That there bunch'll do anything if we
+wasn't lookin'," hotly replied Skinny.
+
+"That's shore nuff gospel, Thomp.  They's sore fer mor'n one thing.
+They got aplenty when Buck went on th' warpath, an they's hankerin' to
+git square," remarked Johnny Nelson, stealing the pie, a rare treat,
+of his neighbor when that unfortunate individual was not looking.  He
+had it halfway to his mouth when its former owner, Jimmy Price, a boy
+of eighteen, turned his head and saw it going.
+
+"Hi-yi! Yu clay-bank coyote, drap thet pie! Did yu ever see such a
+son-of-a-gun fer pie?" he plaintively asked Red Connors, as he grabbed
+a mighty handful of apples and crust.  "Pie'll kill yu some day, yu
+bob-tailed jack! I had an uncle that died onct.  He et too much pie an'
+he went an' turned green, an so'll yu if yu don't let it alone."
+
+"Yu ought'r seed th' pie Johnny had down in Eagle Flat," murmured
+Lanky Smith reminiscently.  "She had feet that'd stop a stampede.
+Johnny was shore loco about her.  Swore she was the finest blossom that
+ever growed." Here he choked and tears of laughter coursed down his
+weather-beaten face as he pictured her.  "She was a dainty Mexican,
+about fifteen han's high an' about sixteen han's around.  Johnny used
+to chalk off when he hugged her, usen't yu, Johnny? One night when he
+had got purty well around on th' second lap he run inter a feller jest
+startin' out on his fust.  They hain't caught that Mexican yet."
+
+Nelson was pelted with everything in sight.  He slowly wiped off the
+pie crust and bread and potatoes.  "Anybody'd think I was a busted grub
+wagon," he grumbled. When he had fished the last piece of beef out of
+his ear he went out and offered to stand treat.  As the round-up was
+over, they slid into their saddles and raced for Cowan's saloon at
+Buckskin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+The Rashness of Shorty
+
+Buckskin was very hot; in fact it was never anything else.  Few people
+were on the streets and the town was quiet.  Over in the Houston hotel
+a crowd of cowboys was lounging in the barroom.  They were very quiet-a
+condition as rare as it was ominous.  Their mounts, twelve in all, were
+switching flies from their quivering skins in the corral at the rear.
+Eight of these had a large C 80 branded on their flanks; the other
+four, a Double Arrow.
+
+In the barroom a slim, wiry man was looking out of the dirty window
+up the street at Cowan's saloon.  Shorty was complaining, "They shore
+oughter be here now.  They rounded up last week."  The man nearest
+assured him that they would come.  The man at the window turned and
+said, "They's yer now.
+
+
+
+
+In front of Cowan's a crowd of nine happy-go-lucky, daredevil
+riders were sliding from their saddles.  They threw their reins over
+the heads of their mounts and filed in to the bar.  Laughter issued
+from the open door and the clink of glasses could be heard.  They stood
+in picturesque groups, strong, self-reliant, humorous, virile. Their
+expensive sombreros were pushed far back on their heads and their
+hairy chaps were covered with the alkali dust from their ride.
+
+Cowan, bottle in hand, pushed out several more glasses.  He kicked a
+dog from under his feet and looked at Buck.  "Rounded up yet?" he
+inquired.
+
+"Shore, day afore yisterday," came the reply.  The rest were busy
+removing the dust from their throats, and gradually drifted into
+groups of two or three.  One of these groups strolled over to the
+solitary card table, and found Jimmy Price resting in a cheap chair,
+his legs on the table.
+
+"I wisht yu'd extricate yore delicate feet from off'n this hyar
+table, James," humbly requested Lanky Smith, morally backed up by
+those with him.
+
+"Ya-as, they shore is delicate, Mr. Smith," responded Jimmy without
+moving.
+
+"We wants to play draw, Jimmy," explained Pete.
+
+"Yore shore welcome to play if yu wants to.  Didn't I tell yu when yu
+growed that mustache that yu didn't have to ask me any more?" queried
+the placid James, paternally.
+
+"Call `em off, sonny. Pete sez he kin clean me out.  Anyhow, yu kin
+have the fust deal," compromised Lanky.
+
+"I'm shore sorry fer Pete if he cayn't.  Yu don't reckon I has to
+have fust deal to beat yu fellers, do yu? Go way an' lemme alone; I
+never seed such a bunch fer buttin' in as yu fellers."
+
+Billy Williams returned to the bar.  Then he walked along it until he
+was behind the recalcitrant possessor of the table.  While his
+aggrieved friends shuffled their feet uneasily to cover his approach,
+he tiptoed up behind Jimmy and, with a nod, grasped that indignant
+individual firmly by the neck while the others grabbed his feet.  They
+carried him, twisting and bucking, to the middle of the street and
+deposited him in the dust, returning to the now vacant table.
+
+Jimmy rested quietly for a few seconds and then slowly arose,
+dusting the alkali from him.
+
+"Th' wall-eyed piruts," he muttered, and then scratched his head for a
+way to "play hunk."  As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a
+snicker from behind him.  He, thinking it was one of his late
+tormentors, paid no attention to it.  Then a cynical, biting laugh
+stung him.  He wheeled, to see Shorty leaning against a tree, a
+sneering leer on his flushed face.  Shorty's right hand was suspended
+above his holster, hooked to his belt by the thumb-a favorite position
+of his when expecting trouble.
+
+"One of yore reg'lar habits?" he drawled.
+
+Jimmy began to dust himself in silence, but his lips were compressed
+to a thin white line.
+
+"Does they hurt yu?" pursued the onlooker.
+
+Jimmy looked up.  "I heard tell that they make glue outen cayuses,
+sometimes," he remarked.
+
+Shorty's eyes flashed.  The loss of the horse had been rankling in
+his heart all day.
+
+"Does they git yu frequent?" he asked.  His voice sounded hard.
+
+"Oh, `bout as frequent as yu lose a cayuse, I reckon," replied Jimmy
+hotly.
+
+Shorty's hand streaked to his holster and Jimmy followed his lead.
+Jimmy's Colt was caught.  He had bucked too much.  As he fell Shorty ran
+for the Houston House.
+
+Pistol shots were common, for they were the universal method of
+expressing emotions.  The poker players grinned, thinking their victim
+was letting off his indignation.  Lanky sized up his hand and remarked
+half audibly, "He's a shore good kid."
+
+The bartender, fearing for his new beveled, gilt-framed mirror, gave
+a hasty glance out the window.  He turned around, made change and
+remarked to Buck, "Yore kid, Jimmy, is plugged."  Several of the more
+credulous craned their necks to see, Buck being the first.  "Judas!" he
+shouted, and ran out to where Jimmy lay coughing, his toes twitching.
+The saloon was deserted and a crowd of angry cowboys surrounded their
+chum-aboy.  Buck had seen Shorty enter the door of the Houston House
+and he swore.  "Chase them C 80 and Arrow cayuses behind the saloon,
+Pete, an' git under cover.
+
+Jimmy was choking and he coughed up blood.  "He's shore- got me.  My-
+gun stuck," he added apologetically.  He tried to sit up, but was not
+able and he looked surprised.  "It's purty- damn hot-out here," he
+suggested. Johnny and Billy carried him in the saloon and placed him
+by the table, in the chair he had previously vacated.  As they stood up
+he fell across the table and died.
+
+Billy placed the dead boy's sombrero on his head and laid the
+refractory six-shooter on the table.  "I wonder who th' dirty killer
+was."  He looked at the slim figure and started to go out, followed by
+Johnny.  As he reached the threshold a bullet zipped past him and
+thudded into the frame of the door.  He backed away and looked
+surprised.  "That's Shorty's shootin'-he allus misses `bout that much."
+He looked out and saw Buck standing behind the live oak that Shorty
+had leaned against, firing at the hotel.  Turning around he made for
+the rear, remarking to Johnny that "they's in th' Houston."  Johnny
+looked at the quiet figure in the chair and swore softly.  He followed
+Billy.  Cowan, closing the door and taking a buffalo gun from under the
+bar, went out also and slammed the rear door forcibly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+The Argument
+
+Up the street two hundred yards from the Houston House Skinny and Pete
+lay hidden behind a bowlder.  Three hundred yards on the other side of
+the hotel Johnny and Billy were stretched out in an arroyo.  Buck was
+lying down now, and Hopalong, from his position in the barn belonging
+to the hotel, was methodically dropping the horses of the besieged, a
+job he hated as much as he hated poison.  The corral was their death
+trap.  Red and Lanky were emitting clouds of smoke from behind the
+store, immediately across the street from the barroom.  A buffalo gun
+roared down by the plaza and several Sharps cracked a protest from
+different points.  The town had awakened and the shots were dropping
+steadily.
+
+Strange noises filled the air.  They grew in tone and volume and then
+dwindled away to nothing.  The hum of the buffalo gun and the sobbing
+pi-in-in-ing of the Winchesters were liberally mixed with the sharp
+whines of the revolvers.
+
+There were no windows in the hotel now.  Raw furrows in the bleached
+wood showed yellow, and splinters mysteriously sprang from the
+casings.  The panels of the door were producing cracks and the cheap
+door handle flew many ways at once.  An empty whisky keg on the stoop
+boomed out mournfully at intervals and finally rolled down the steps
+with a rumbling protest.  Wisps of smoke slowly climbed up the walls
+and seemed to be waving defiance to the curling wisps in the open.
+
+
+Pete raised his shoulder to refill the magazine of his smoking rifle
+and dropped the cartridges all over his lap.  He looked sheepishly at
+Skinny and began to load with his other hand.
+
+"Yore plum loco, yu are. Don't yu reckon they kin hit a blue shirt
+at two hundred?" Skinny cynically inquired.  "Got one that time," he
+announced a second later.
+
+"I wonder who's got th' buffalo," grunted Pete.  "Mus' be Cowan," he
+replied to his own question and settled himself to use his left hand.
+
+"Don't yu git Shorty; he's my meat," suggested Skinny.
+
+"Yu better tell Buck-he ain't got no love fer Shorty," replied Pete,
+aiming carefully.
+
+The panic in the corral ceased and Hopalong was now sending his
+regrets against the panels of the rear door.  He had cut his last
+initial in the near panel and was starting a wobbly "H" in its
+neighbor.  He was in a good position.  There were no windows in the rear
+wall, and as the door was a very dangerous place he was not fired at.
+
+He began to get tired of this one-sided business and crawled up on
+the window ledge, dangling his feet on the outside. He occasionally
+sent a bullet at a different part of the door, but amused himself by
+annoying Buck.
+
+"Plenty hot down there?" he pleasantly inquired, and as he received
+no answer he tried again.  "Better save some of them cartridges fer
+some other time, Buck."
+
+Buck was sending 45-70's into the shattered window with a precision
+that presaged evil to any of the defenders who were rash enough to try
+to gain the other end of the room.
+
+Hopalong bit off a chew of tobacco and drowned a green fly that was
+crawling up the side of the barn.  The yellow liquid streaked downward
+a short distance and was eagerly sucked up by the warped boards.
+
+A spurt of smoke leaped from the battered door and the bored
+Hopalong promptly tumbled back inside.  He felt of his arm, and then,
+delighted at the notice taken of his artistic efforts, shot several
+times from a crack on his right.  "This yer's shore gittin' like home,"
+he gravely remarked to the splinter that whizzed past his head. He
+shot again at the door and it sagged outward, accompanied by the thud
+of a falling body.  "Pies like mother used to make," he announced to
+the loft as he slipped the magazine full of .45-70'S.  "An' pills like
+popper used to take," he continued when he had lowered the level of
+the water in his flask.
+
+He rolled a cigarette and tossed the match into the air,
+extinguishing it by a shot from his Colt.
+
+"Got any cigarettes, Hoppy?" said a voice from below.
+
+"Shore," replied the joyous puncher, recognizing Pete; "how'd yu git
+here?"
+
+"Like a cow.  Busy?"
+
+"None whatever.  Comin' up?"
+
+"Nope.  Skinny wants a smoke too."
+
+Hopalong handed tobacco and papers down the hole.  "So long."
+
+"So long," replied the daring Pete, who risked death twice for a
+smoke.
+
+The hot afternoon dragged along and about three o'clock   Buck held up
+an empty cartridge belt to the gaze of the curious Hopalong.  That
+observant worthy nodded and threw a double handful of cartridges, one
+by one, to the patient and unrelenting Buck, who filled his gun and
+piled the few remaining ones up at his side.  "Th' lives of mice and
+men gang aft all wrong," he remarked at random.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun's talkin' Shakespeare," marveled Hopalong.
+"Satiate any, Buck?" he asked as that worthy settled down to await his
+chance.
+
+"Two," he replied, "Shorty an' another.  Plenty damn hot down here,"
+he complained.  A spurt of alkali dust stung his face, but the hand
+that made it never made another.  "Three," he called.  "How many,
+Hoppy?"
+
+ "One. That's four.  Wonder if th' others got any?"
+
+"Pete said Skinny got one," replied the intent Buck.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun, he never said nothin' about it, an' me a fillin'
+his ornery paws with smokin'."  Hopalong was indignant.
+
+"Bet yu ten we don't git `em afore dark," he announced.
+
+"Got yu.  Go yu ten more I gits another," promptly responded Buck.
+
+"That's a shore cinch.  Make her twenty."
+
+"She is."
+
+"Yu'll have to square it with Skinny, he shore wanted Shorty plum'
+bad, "Hopalong informed the unerring marksman.
+
+"Why didn't he say suthin' about it? Anyhow, Jimmy was my bunkie."
+
+Hopalong's cigarette disintegrated and the board at his left
+received a hole.  He promptly disappeared and Buck laughed.  He sat up
+in the loft and angrily spat the soaked paper out from between his
+lips.
+
+"All that trouble fer nothin', th' white-eyed coyote," he muttered.
+Then he crawled around to one side and fired at the center of his "C."
+Another shot hurtled at him and his left arm fell to his side.  "That's
+funny-wonder where th' damn pirut is? "He looked out cautiously and
+saw a cloud of smoke over a knothole which was situated close up under
+the eaves of the barroom; and it was being agitated.  Some one was
+blowing at it to make it disappear.  He aimed very carefully at the
+knot and fired.  He heard a sound between a curse and a squawk and was
+not molested any further from that point.
+
+"I knowed he'd git hurt," he explained to the bandage, torn from the
+edge of his kerchief, which he carefully bound around his last wound.
+
+Down in the arroyo Johnny was complaining.
+
+"This yer's a no good bunk," he plaintively remarked.
+
+"It shore ain't-but it's th' best we kin find," apologized Billy.
+
+"That's th' sixth that feller sent up there.  He's a damn poor shot,"
+observed Johnny; "must be Shorty."
+
+"Shorty kin shoot plum' good-tain't him," contradicted Billy.
+
+"Yas-with a six-shooter.  He's off'n his feed with a rifle,"
+explained Johnny.
+
+"Yu wants to stay down from up there, yu ijit," warned Billy as the
+disgusted Johnny crawled up the bank.  He slid down again with a welt
+on his neck.
+
+"That's somebody else now.  He oughter a done better'n that, "he
+said.
+
+Billy had fired as Johnny started to slide and he smoothed his
+aggrieved chum.  "He could onct, yu means."
+
+"Did yu git him?" asked the anxious Johnny, rubbing his welt.  "Plum'
+center," responded the business-like Billy.  "Go up agin, mebby I kin
+git another," he suggested tentatively.
+
+"Mebby you kin go to blazes.  I ain't no gallery," grinned the now
+exuberant owner of the welt.
+
+"Who's got the buffalo?" he inquired as the great gun roared.
+
+"Mus' be Cowan.  He's shore all right.  Sounds like a bloomin'
+cannon," replied Billy.  "Lemme alone with yore fool questions, I'm
+busy," he complained as his talkative partner started to ask another.
+"Go an' git me some water-I'm alkalied.  An' git some .45's, mine's
+purty near gone."
+
+Johnny crawled down the arroyo and reappeared at Hopalong's barn.
+
+As he entered the door a handful of empty shells fell on his hat and
+dropped to the floor. He shook his head and remarked, "That mus' be
+that fool Hopalong."
+
+"Yore shore right.  How's business?" inquired the festive Cassidy.
+
+"Purty fair.  Billy's got one.  How many's gone?"
+
+"Buck's got three, I got two and Skinny's got one.  That's six, an'
+Billy is seven.  They's five more," he replied.
+
+"How'd yu know?" queried Johnny as he filled his flask at the horse
+trough.
+
+"Because they's twelve cayuses behind the hotel.  That's why."
+
+"They might git away on `em," suggested the practical Johnny.
+
+"Can't.  They's all cashed in."
+
+"Yu said that they's five left," ejaculated the puzzled water
+carrier.
+
+"Yah; yore a smart cuss, ain't yu?"
+
+Johnny grinned and then said, "Got any smokin'? "Hopalong looked
+grieved.  "I ain't no store.  Why don't yu git generous and buy some?"
+
+He partially filled Johnny's hand, and as he put the sadly depleted
+bag away he inquired, "Got any papers?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Got any matches? "he asked cynically.
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Kin yu smoke `em?" he yelled, indignantly.
+
+"Shore nuff," placidly replied the unruffled Johnny.  "Billy wants
+some .45-70's."
+
+Hopalong gasped.  "Don't he want my gun, too?"
+
+"Nope.  Got a better one.  Hurry up, he'll git mad."  Hopalong was a
+very methodical person.  He was the only one of his crowd to carry a
+second cartridge strap.  It hung over his right shoulder and rested on
+his left hip.  His waist belt held thirty cartridges for the revolvers.
+He extracted twenty from that part of the shoulder strap hardest to
+get at, the back, by simply pulling it over his shoulder and plucking
+out the bullets as they came into reach.
+
+"That's all yu kin have.  I'm Buck's ammernition jackass," he
+explained.  "Bet yu ten we gits `em afore dark" -he was hedging.
+
+"Any fool knows that.  I'll take yu if yu bets th' other way,"
+responded Johnny, grinning.  He knew Hopalong's weak spot.
+
+"Yore on," promptly responded Hopalong, who would bet on anything.
+
+
+"Well, so long," said Johnny as he crawled away.
+
+"Hey, yu, Johnny!" called out Hopalong, "don't yu go an' tell
+anybody I got any pills left. I ain't no ars'nal."
+
+Johnny replied by elevating one foot and waving it.  Then he
+disappeared.
+
+Behind the store, the most precarious position among the besiegers,
+Red Connors and Lanky Smith were ensconced and commanded a view of the
+entire length of the barroom.  They could see the dark mass they knew
+to be the rear door and derived a great amount of amusement from the
+spots of light which were appearing in it.
+
+They watched the "C" (reversed to them) appear and be completed.
+When the wobbly "H" grew to completion they laughed heartily.  Then the
+hardwood bar had been dragged across the field of vision and up to the
+front windows, and they could only see the indiscriminate holes which
+appeared in the upper panels at frequent intervals.
+
+Every time they fired they had to expose a part of themselves to a
+return shot, with the result that Lanky's forearm was seared its
+entire length.  Red had been more fortunate and only had a bruised ear.
+
+They laboriously rolled several large rocks out in the open, pushing
+them beyond the shelter of the store with their rifles.  When they had
+crawled behind them they each had another wound.  From their new
+position they could see Hopalong sitting in his window.  He promptly
+waved his sombrero and grinned.
+
+They were the most experienced fighters of all except Buck, and were
+saving their shots.  When they did shoot they always had some portion
+of a man's body to aim at, and the damage they inflicted was
+considerable.  They said nothing, being older than the rest and more
+taciturn, and they were not reckless.  Although Hopalong's antics made
+them laugh, they grumbled at his recklessness and were not tempted to
+emulate him.  It was noticeable, too, that they shoved their rifles out
+simultaneously and, although both were aiming, only one fired. Lanky's
+gun cracked so close to the enemy's that the whirr of the bullet over
+Red's head was merged in the crack of his partner's reply.
+
+When Hopalong saw the rocks roll out from behind the store he grew
+very curious.  Then he saw a flash, followed instantly by another from
+the second rifle.  He saw several of these follow shots and could sit
+in silence no longer.  He waved his hat to attract attention and then
+shouted, "How many?"  A shot was sent straight up in the air and he
+notified Buck that there were only four left.
+
+The fire of these four grew less rapid-they were saving their
+ammunition.  A pot shot at Hopalong sent that gentleman's rifle
+hurtling to the ground.  Another tore through his hat, removing a neat
+amount of skin and hair and giving him a lifelong part.  He fell back
+inside and proceeded to shoot fast and straight with his revolvers,
+his head burning as though on fire.  When he had vented the dangerous
+pressure of his anger he went below and tried to fish the rifle in
+with a long stick. It was obdurate, so he sent three more shots into
+the door, and, receiving no reply, ran out around the corner of his
+shelter and grasped the weapon.  When half way back he sank to the
+ground. Before another shot could be fired at him with any judgment a
+ripping, spitting rifle was being frantically worked from the barn.
+The bullets tore the door into seams and gaps; the lowest panel, the
+one having the "H" in it, fell inward in chunks.  Johnny had returned
+for another smoke.
+
+Hopalong, still grasping the rifle, rolled rapidly around the corner
+of the barn.  He endeavored to stand, but could not.  Johnny, hearing
+rapid and fluent swearing, came out.
+
+"Where'd they git yu?" he asked.
+
+ "In th' off leg.  Hurts like blazes.  Did yu git him?"
+
+"Nope.  I jest come fer another cig; got any left?"
+
+"Up above.  Yore gall is shore apallin'.  Help me in, yu twoIaigged
+jackass."
+
+"Shore.  We'll shore pay our `tentions to that door.  She'll go purty
+soon-she's as full of holes as th' Bad Lan's," replied Johnny.  "Git
+aholt an' hop along, Hopalong."
+
+He helped the swearing Hopalong inside, and then the lead they
+pumped into the wrecked door was scandalous.  Another panel fell in and
+Hopalong's "C" was destroyed.  A wide crack appeared in the one above
+it and grew rapidly.  Its mate began to gape and finally both were
+driven in.  The increase in the light caused by these openings allowed
+Red and Lanky to secure better aim and soon the fire of the defenders
+died out.
+
+Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and
+dashed for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening
+with a fusilade.
+
+As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly
+missed sudden death.  As it was he staggered to the side, out of range,
+and dropped full length to the ground, flat on his face.  Hopalong's
+rifle cracked incessantly, but to no avail.  The man who had fired the
+shot was dead.  Buck got him immediately after he had shot Johnny.
+
+Calling to Skinny and Red to cover him, Buck sprinted to where
+Johnny lay gasping.  The bullet had struck his shoulder.  Buck, Colt in
+hand, leaped through the door, but met with no resistance.  He signaled
+to Hopalong, who yelled, "They's none left."
+
+The trees and rocks and gullies and buildings yielded men who soon
+crowded around the hotel.  A young doctor, lately graduated, appeared.
+it was his first case, but he eased Johnny.  Then he went over to
+Hopalong, who was now raving, and attended to him.  The others were
+patched up as well as possible and the struggling young physician had
+his pockets crammed full of gold and silver coins.
+
+The scene of the wrecked barroom was indescribable.  Holes, furrows,
+shattered glass and bottles, the liquor oozing down the walls of the
+shelves and running over the floor; the ruined furniture, a wrecked
+bar, seared and shattered and covered with blood; bodies as they had
+been piled in the corners; ropes, shells, hats; and liquor everywhere,
+over everything, met the gaze of those who had caused the chaos.
+
+Perry's Bend had failed to wipe out the score.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+The Vagrant Sioux
+
+
+Buckskin gradually readjusted itself to the conditions which had
+existed before its sudden leap into the limelight as a town which did
+things.  The soiree at the Houston House had drifted into the past, and
+was now substantially established as an epoch in the history of the
+town.  Exuberant joy gave way to dignity and deprecation, and to solid
+satisfaction; and the conversations across the bar brought forth
+parallels of the affair to be judged impartially -and the impartial
+judgment was, unanimously, that while there had undoubtedly been good
+fights before Perry's Bend had disturbed the local quiet, they were
+not quite up to the new standard of strenuous hospitality.  Finally the
+heat blistered everything back into the old state, and the shadows
+continued to be in demand.
+
+One afternoon, a month after the reception of the honorable
+delegation from Perry's Bend, the town of Buckskin seemed desolated,
+and the earth and the buildings thereon were as huge furnaces
+radiating a visible heat, but when the blazing sun had begun to settle
+in the west it awoke with a clamor which might have been laid to the
+efforts of a zealous Satan.  At this time it became the Mecca of two
+score or more joyous cowboys from the neighboring ranches, who livened
+things as those knights of the saddle could.
+
+In the scant but heavy shadow of Cowan's saloon sat a picturesque
+figure from whom came guttural, resonant rumblings which mingled in a
+spirit of loneliness with the fretful sighs of a flea-tormented dog.
+Both dog and master were vagrants, and they were tolerated because it
+was a matter of supreme indifference as to who came or how long they
+stayed as long as the ethics and the unwritten law of the cow country
+were inviolate.  And the breaking of these caused no unnecessary
+anxiety, for justice was both speedy and sure.
+
+When the outcast Sioux and his yellow dog had drifted into town some
+few months before they had caused neither expostulation nor inquiry,
+as the cardinal virtue of that whole broad land was to ask a man no
+questions which might prove embarrassing to all concerned; judgment
+was of observation, not of history, and a man's past would reveal
+itself through actions.  It mattered little whether he was an embezzler
+or the wild chip from some prosperous eastern block, as men came to
+the range to forget and to lose touch with the pampered East; and the
+range absorbed them as its own.
+
+
+
+A man was only a man as his skin contained the qualities necessary; and the
+ illiterate who could ride
+and shoot and live to himself was far more esteemed than the educated
+who could not do those things.   The more a man depends upon himself and
+the closer is his contact to a quick judgment the more laconic and
+even-poised he becomes.  And the knowledge that he is himself a judge
+tends to create caution and judgment.  He has no court to uphold his
+honor and to offer him protection, so he must be quick to protect
+himself and to maintain his own standing. His nature saved him, or it
+executed; and the range absolved him of all unpaid penalties of a
+careless past.
+
+He became a man born again and he took up his burden,
+the exactions of a new environment, and he lived as long as those
+exactions gave him the right to live.  He must tolerate no restrictions
+of his natural rights, and he must not restrict; for the one would
+proclaim him a coward, the other a bully; and both received short
+shrifts in that land of the self-protected.  The basic law of nature is
+the survival of the fittest.
+
+So, when the wanderers found their level in Buckskin they were not
+even asked by what name men knew them.  Not caring to hear a name which
+might not harmonize with their idea of the fitness of things, the
+cowboys of the Bar-20 had, with a freedom born of excellent livers and
+fearless temperaments, bestowed names befitting their sense of humor
+and adaptability.  The official title of the Sioux was By-and-by; the
+dog was known as Fleas.  Never had names more clearly described the
+objects to be represented, for they were excellent examples of cowboy
+discernment and aptitude.
+
+In their eyes By-and-by was a man.  He could feel and he could resent
+insults.  They did not class him as one of themselves, because he did
+not have energy enough to demand and justify such classification.  With
+them he had a right to enjoy his life as he saw fit so long as he did
+not trespass on or restrict the rights of others.  They were not
+analytic in temperament, neither were they moralists.  He was not a
+menace to society, because society had superb defenses.  So they
+vaguely recognized his many poor qualities and clearly saw his few
+good ones.  He could shoot, when permitted, with the best; no horse,
+however refractory, had ever been known to throw him; he was an adept
+at following the trails left by rustlers, and that was an asset; he
+became of value to the community; he was an economic factor.
+
+His ability to consume liquor with indifferent effects raised him another
+notch in their estimation.  He was not always talking when some one
+else wished to-another count.  There remained about him that stoical
+indifference to the petty; that observant nonchalance of the Indian;
+and there was a suggestion, faint, it was true, of a dignity common to
+chieftains.  He was a log of grave deference which tossed on their sea
+of mischievous hilarity.
+
+He wore a pair of corduroy trousers, known to the care-free as
+"pants," which were held together by numerous patches of what had once
+been brilliantly colored calico.  A pair of suspenders, torn into two
+separate straps, made a belt for himself and a collar for his dog.  The
+trousers had probably been secured during a fit of absent-mindedness
+on his part when their former owner had not been looking.  Tucked at
+intervals in the top of the corduroys (the exceptions making
+convenient shelves for alkali dust) was what at one time had been a
+stiff-bosomed shirt.  This was open down the front and back, the weight
+of the trousers on the belt holding it firmly on the square shoulders
+of the wearer, thus precluding the necessity of collar buttons.  A pair
+of moccasins, beautifully worked with wampum, protected his feet from
+the onslaughts of cacti and the inquisitive and pugnacious sand flies;
+and lying across his lap was a repeating Winchester rifle, not
+dangerous because it was empty, a condition due to the wisdom of the
+citizens in forbidding any one to sell, trade or give to him those
+tubes of concentrated trouble, because he could get drunk.
+
+The two were contented and happy.  They had no cares nor duties, and
+their pleasures were simple and easily secured, as they consisted of
+sleep and a proneness to avoid moving.  Like the untrammeled coyote,
+their bed was where sleep overtook them; their food, what the night
+wrapped in a sense of security, or the generosity of the cowboys of
+the Bar-20.  No tub-ridden Diogenes ever knew so little of
+responsibility or as much unadulterated content.  There is a penalty
+even to civilization and ambition.
+
+When the sun had cast its shadows beyond By-and-by's feet the air
+became charged with noise; shouts, shots and the rolling thunder of
+madly pounding hoofs echoed flatly throughout the town.  By-and-by
+yawned, stretched and leaned back, reveling in the semi-conscious
+ecstasy of the knowledge that he did not have to immediately get up.
+Fleas opened one eye and cocked an ear in inquiry, and then rolled
+over on his back, squirmed and sighed contentedly and long.  The outfit
+of the Bar-20 had come to town.
+
+The noise came rapidly nearer and increased in volume as the riders
+turned the corner and drew rein suddenly, causing their mounts to
+slide on their haunches in ankle-deep dust.
+
+"Hullo, old Buck-with-th'-pants, how's yore liver?"
+
+"Come up an irrigate, old tank!"
+
+"Chase th' flea ranch an' trail along!"
+
+These were a few of the salutations discernible among the medley of
+playful yells, the safety valves of supercharged good-nature.
+
+"Skr-e-e!" yelled Hopalong Cassidy, letting off a fusillade of shots.
+in the vicinity of Fleas, who rapidly retreated around the corner,
+where he wagged his tail in eager expectation.  He was not
+disappointed, for a cow pony tore around in pursuit and Hopalong
+leaned over and scratched the yellow back, thumping it heartily, and,
+tossing a chunk of beef into the open jaws of the delighted dog,
+departed as he had come.  The advent of the outfit meant a square meal,
+and the dog knew it.
+
+In Cowan's, lined up against the bar, the others were earnestly and
+assiduously endeavoring, with a promise of success, to get By-and-by
+drunk, which endeavors coincided perfectly with By-and-by's idea of
+the fitness of things.  The fellowship and the liquor combined to thaw
+out his reserve and to loosen his tongue.  After gazing with an air of
+injured surprise at the genial loosening of his knees he gravely
+handed his rifle with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, to the cowboy
+nearest him, and wrapped his arms around the recipient to insure his
+balance.  The rifle was passed from hand to hand until it came to Buck
+Peters, who gravely presented it to its owner as a new gun.
+
+By-and-by threw out his stomach in an endeavor to keep his head in
+line with his heels, and grasping the weapon with both hands turned to
+Cowan, to whom he gave it.
+
+"Yu hab this un.  Me got two.  Me keep new un, mebby so. "Then he
+loosened his belt and drank long and deep.
+
+A shadow darkened the doorway and Hopalong limped in.  Spying By-and-
+by pushing the bottle into his mouth, while Red Connors propped him,
+he grinned and took out five silver dollars, which he jingled under
+By-and-by's eyes, causing that worthy to lay aside the liquor and
+erratically grab for the tantalizing fortune.
+
+"Not yet, sabe?" said Hopalong, changing the position of the money.
+"If yu wants to corral this here herd of simoleons yu has to ride a
+cayuse what Red bet me yu can't ride.  Yu has got to grow on that there
+saddle and stayed growed for five whole minutes by Buck's ticker.  I
+ain't a-goin' to tell yu he's any saw-horse, for yu'd know better, as
+yu reckons Red wouldn't bet on no losin' proposition if he knowed
+better, which same he don't.  Yu straddles that four-laigged cloudburst
+an' yu gets these, sabe? I ain't seen th' cayuse yet that yu couldn't
+freeze to, an' I'm backin' my opinions with my moral support an' one
+month's pay.
+
+By-and-by's eyes began to glitter as the meaning of the words sifted
+through his befuddled mind.  Ride a horse-five dollars- ride a five-
+dollars horse-horses ride dollars-then he straightened up and began to
+speak in an incoherent jumble of Sioux and bad English.  He, the mighty
+rider of the Sioux; he, the bravest warrior and the greatest hunter;
+could he ride a horse for five dollars?  Well, he rather thought he
+could.  Grasping Red by the shoulder, he tacked for the door and
+narrowly missed hitting the bottom step first, landing, as it
+happened, in the soft dust with Red's leg around his neck.  Somewhat
+sobered by the jar, he stood up and apologized to the crowd for Red
+getting in the way, declaring that Red was a "Heap good un," and that
+he didn't mean to do it.
+
+The outfit of the Bar-20 was, perhaps, the most famous of all from
+Canada to the Rio Grande. The foreman, Buck Peters, controlled a crowd
+of men (who had all the instincts of boys) that had shown no quarter
+to many rustlers, and who, while always carefree and easy-going (even
+fighting with great good humor and carelessness), had established the
+reputation of being the most reckless gang of daredevil gun-fighters
+that ever pounded leather.  Crooked gaming houses, from El Paso to
+Cheyenne and from Phoenix to Leavenworth, unanimously and
+enthusiastically damned them from their boots to their sombreros, and
+the sheriffs and marshals of many localities had received from their
+hands most timely assistance-and some trouble.  Wiry, indomitable,
+boyish and generous, they were splendid examples of virile manhood;
+and, surrounded as they were with great dangers and a unique
+civilization, they should not, in justice, be judged by opinions born
+of the commonplace.
+
+They were real cowboys, which means, public opinion to the contrary
+notwithstanding, that they were not lawless, nor drunken, shooting
+bullies who held life cheaply, as their kin has been unjustly
+pictured; but while these men were naturally peaceable they had to
+continually rub elbows with men who were not.  Gamblers, criminals,
+bullies and the riffraff that fled from the protected East had drifted
+among them in great numbers, and it was this class that caused the
+trouble.
+
+The hardworking "cow-punchers" lived according to the law of
+the land, and they obeyed that greatest of all laws, that of self-
+preservation.  Their fun was boisterous, but they paid for all the
+damage they inflicted; their work was one continual hardship, and the
+reaction of one extreme swings far toward the limit of its antithesis.
+Go back to the Apple if you would trace the beginning of self-
+preservation and the need.
+
+Buck Peters was a man of mild appearance, somewhat slow of speech
+and correspondingly quick of action, who never became flurried.  His
+was the master hand that controlled, and his Colts enjoyed the
+reputation of never missing when a hit could have been expected with
+reason.  Many floods, stampedes and blizzards had assailed his nerves,
+but he yet could pour a glass of liquor, held at arm's length, through
+a knothole in the floor without wetting the wood.
+
+Next in age came Lanky Smith, a small, undersized man of retiring
+disposition.  Then came Skinny Thompson, six feet four on his bared
+soles, and true to his name; Hopalong described him as "th' shadow of
+a chalk mark."  Pete Wilson, the slow-witted and very taciturn, and
+Billy Williams, the wavering pessimist, were of ordinary height and
+appearance.  Red Connors, with hair that shamed the name, was the
+possessor of a temper which was as dry as tinder; his greatest
+weakness was his regard for the rifle as a means of preserving peace.
+Johnny Nelson was the protege, and he could do no wrong.
+
+The last, Hopalong Cassidy, was a combination of irresponsibility, humor, good
+nature, love of fighting, and nonchalance when face to face with
+danger.  His most prominent attribute was that of always getting into
+trouble without any intention of so doing; in fact, he was much
+aggrieved and surprised when it came.  It seemed as though when any
+"bad man" desired to add to his reputation he invariably selected
+Hopalong as the means (a fact due, perhaps, to the perversity of
+things in general).  Bad men became scarce soon after Hopalong became a
+fixture in any locality.  He had been crippled some years before in a
+successful attempt to prevent the assassination of a friend, Sheriff
+Harris, of Albuquerque, and he still possessed a limp.
+
+When Red had relieved his feelings and had dug the alkali out of his
+ears and eyes, he led the Sioux to the rear of the saloon, where a
+"pinto" was busily engaged in endeavoring to pitch a saddle from his
+back, employing the intervals in trying to see how much of the picket
+rope he could wrap around his legs.
+
+When By-and-by saw what he was expected to ride he felt somewhat
+relieved, for the pony did not appear to have more than the ordinary
+amount of cussedness.  He waved his hand, and Johnny and Red bandaged
+the animal's eyes, which quieted him at once, and then they untangled
+the rope from around his legs and saw that the cinches were secure.
+Motioning to By-and-by that all was ready, they jerked the bandage off
+as the Indian settled himself in the saddle.
+
+Had By-and-by been really sober he would have taken the conceit out
+of that pony in chunks, and as it was he experienced no great
+difficulty in holding his seat; but in his addled state of mind he
+grasped the end of the cinch strap in such a way that when the pony
+jumped forward in its last desperate effort the buckle slipped and the
+cinch became unfastened; and By-and-by, still seated in the saddle,
+flew head foremost into the horse trough, where he spilled much water.
+
+As this happened Cowan turned the corner, and when he saw the wasted
+water (which he had to carry, bucketful at a time, from the wells a
+good quarter of a mile away) his anger blazed forth, and yelling, he
+ran for the drenched Sioux, who was just crawling out of his bath.
+When the unfortunate saw the irate man bearing down on him he
+sputtered in rage and fear, and, turning, he ran down the street, with
+Cowan thundering flatfootedly behind on a fat man's gallop, to the
+hysterical cheers of the delighted outfit, who saw in it nothing but a
+good joke.
+
+When Cowan returned from his hopeless task, blowing and wheezing, he
+heard sundry remarks, sotto voce, which were not calculated to
+increase his opinion of his physical condition.
+
+"Seems to me," remarked the irrepressible Hopalong, "that one of
+those cayuses has got th' heaves."
+
+"It shore sounds like it," acquiesced Johnny, red in the face from
+holding in his laughter, "an' say, somebody interferes."
+
+"All knock-kneed animals do, yu heathen," supplied Red.
+
+`Hey, yu, let up on that and have a drink on th' house," invited
+Cowan.  "If I gits that durn war whoop I'll make yu think there's been a
+cyclone.  I'll see how long that bum hangs around this here burg, I
+will."
+
+Red's eyes narrowed and his temper got the upper hand.  "He ain't no
+bum when yu gives him rotgut at a quarter of a dollar a glass, is he?
+Any time that `bum' gits razzled out for nothin' more'n this, why, I
+goes too; an' I ain't sayin' nothin' about goin' peaceable-like,
+neither."
+
+"I knowed somethin' like this `ud happen," dolefully sang out Billy
+Williams, strong on the side of his pessimism.
+
+"For th' Lord's sake, have you broke out?" asked Red, disgustedly.
+"I'm goin' to hit the trail-but just keep this afore yore mind: if By-
+and-by gits in any accidents or ain't in sight when I comes to town
+again, this here climate'll be a heep sight hotter'n it is now. No
+hard feelings, sabe? It's just a casual bit of advice.  Come on,
+fellows, let's amble -I'm hungry."
+
+As they raced across the plain toward the ranch a pair of beady
+eyes, snapping with a drunken rage, watched them from an arroyo; and
+when Cowan entered the saloon the next morning he could not find By-
+and-by's rifle, which he had placed behind the bar.  He also missed a
+handful of cartridges from the box near the cash drawer; and had he
+looked closely at his bottled whisky he would have noticed a loss
+there.  A horse was missing from a Mexican's corral and there were
+rumors that several Indians had been seen far out on the plain.
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+The Law of the Range
+
+
+Phew! I'm shore hungry," said Hopalong, as he and Red dismounted at
+the ranch the next morning for breakfast.  "Wonder what's good for it?"
+
+"They's three things that's good for famine," said Red, leading the
+way to the bunk house.  "Yu can pull in yore belt, yu can drink, an yu
+can eat.  Yore getting as bad as Johnny - but he's young yet."
+
+The others met their entrance with a volley of good-humored banter,
+some of which was so personal and evoked such responses that it
+sounded like the preliminary skirmish to a fight.  But under all was
+that soft accent, that drawl of humorous appreciation and eyes
+twinkling in suppressed merriment.  Here they were thoroughly at home
+and the spirit of comradeship manifested itself in many subtle ways;
+the wit became more daring and sharp, Billy lost some of his
+pessimism, and the alertness disappeared from their manner.
+
+Skinny left off romping with Red and yawned.  "I wish that cook'ud
+wake up an' git breakfast.  He's the cussedest hombre I ever saw -he kin
+go to sleep standin' up an' not know it.  Johnny's th' boy that worries
+him-th' kid comes in an' whoops things up till he's gorged himself."
+
+"Johnny's got th' most appallin' feel for grub of anybody I knows,"
+added Red.  "I wonder what's keepin' him-he's usually hangin' around
+here bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got
+th' fire goin'."
+
+"Mebby he rustled some grub out with him-I saw him tip-toein' out of
+th' gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs," remarked
+Hopalong, glancing at Billy.
+
+Billy groaned and made for the gallery.  Emerging half a minute later
+he blurted out his tale of woe:  "Every time I blows myself an' don't
+drink it all in town some slab-sided maverick freezes to it.  It's
+gone," he added, dismally.
+
+"Too bad, Billy-but what is it?" asked Skinny.
+
+"What is it?  Wha'd yu think it was, you emaciated match?  Jewelry?
+Cayuses? It's whisky-two simoleons' worth.  Some-thin's allus wrong.
+This here whole yearth's wrong, just like that cross-eyed sky pilot
+said over to-"
+
+"Will yu let up?"  Yelled Red, throwing a sombrero at the grumbling
+unfortunate.  "Yu ask Buck where yore tanglefoot is.
+
+"I'd shore look nice askin' th' boss if he'd rustled my whisky,
+wouldn't 1?  An' would yu mind throwin' somebody else's hat?  I paid
+twenty wheels for that eight years ago, and I don't want it mussed
+none."
+
+"Gee, yore easy! Why, Ah Sing, over at Albuquerque, gives them away
+every time yu gits yore shirt washed," gravely interposed Hopalong as
+he went out to cuss the cook.
+
+"Well, what'd yu think of that?"  Exclaimed Billy in an injured tone.
+
+"Oh, yu needn't be hikin' for Albuquerque-WasheeWashee'ud charge yu
+double for washin' yore shirt.  Yu ought to fall in di' river some day-
+then he might talk business," called Hopalong over his shoulder as he
+heaved an old boot into the gallery.  "Hey, yu hibernatin' son of
+morphine, if yu don't git them flapjacks in here pretty sudden-like
+I'll scatter yu all over di' landscape, sabe? Yu just wait till Johnny
+comes!"
+
+"Wonder where th' kid is?" asked Lanky, rolling a cigarette.   "Off
+somewhere lookin' at di' sun through di' bottom of my bottle,"
+grumbled Billy.
+
+Hopalong started to go out, but halted on the sill and looked
+steadily off toward the northwest.  "That's funny. Hey, fellows, here
+comes Buck an' Johnny ridin' double-on a walk, too!" he exclaimed.
+"Wonder what th'-thunder! Red, Buck's carryun' him!  Somethin's
+busted!" he yelled, as he dashed for his pony and made for the
+newcomers.
+
+"I told yu he was hittin' my bottle," pertly remarked Billy, as he
+followed the rest outside.
+
+"Did yu ever see Johnny drunk?  Did yu ever see him drink more'n two
+glasses?  Shut yore wailin' face-they's somethin' worse'n that in this
+here," said Red, his temper rising.  "Hopalong an' me took yore cheap
+liquor-it's under Pete's bunk," he added.
+
+The trio approached on a walk and Johnny, delirious and covered with
+blood, was carried into the bunk house.  Buck waited until all had
+assembled again and then, his face dark with anger, spoke sharply and
+without the usual drawl:  "Skragged from behind, blast them!  Get some
+grub an' water an' be quick.  We'll see who the gent with th' grudge
+is."
+
+At this point the expostulations of the indignant cook, who, not
+understanding the cause, regarded the invasion of china shop bulls as
+sacrilegious, came to his ears.  Striding quickly to the door, he
+grabbed the pan the Mexican was about to throw and, turning the now
+frightened man around, thundered, "Keep quiet an' get `em some grub."
+
+When rifles and ammunition had been secured they mounted and
+followed him at a hard gallop along the back trail.  No words were
+spoken, for none were necessary.  All knew that they would not return
+until they had found the man for whom they were looking, even if the
+chase led to Canada.  They did not ask Buck for any of the particulars,
+for the foreman was not in the humor to talk, and all, save Hopalong,
+whose curiosity was always on edge, recognized only two facts and
+cared for nothing else: Johnny had been ambushed and they were going
+to get the one who was responsible.
+
+ They did not even conjecture as to who it might be, because the trail
+ would lead them to the man himself, and it mattered nothing who
+or what he was- there was only one course to take with an assassin.
+ So they said nothing, but rode on with squared jaws and set lips, the
+seven ponies breast to breast in a close arc.
+
+Soon they came to an arroyo which they took at a leap.  As they
+approached it they saw signs in the dust which told them that a body
+had lain there huddled up; and there were brown spots on the baked
+alkali.  The trail they followed was now single, Buck having ridden
+along the bank of the arroyo when hunting for Johnny, for whom he had
+orders.  This trail was very irregular, as if the horse had wandered at
+will.  Suddenly they came upon five tracks, all pointing one way, and
+four of these turned abruptly and disappeared in the northwest.  Half a
+mile beyond the point of separation was a chaparral, which was an
+important factor to them.
+
+Each man knew just what had taken place as if he had been an
+eyewitness, for the trail was plain.  The assassins had waited in the
+chaparral for Johnny to pass, probably having seen him riding that
+way.  When he had passed and his back had been turned to them they had
+fired and wounded him severely at the first volley, for Johnny was of
+the stuff that fights back and his revolvers had showed full chambers
+and clean barrels when Red had examined them in the bunk house.  Then
+they had given chase for a short distance and, from some inexplicable
+motive, probably fear, they had turned and ridden off without knowing
+how bad he was hit.  It was this trail that led to the northwest, and
+it was this trail that they followed without pausing.
+
+When they had covered fifty miles they sighted the Cross Bar O ranch
+where they hoped to secure fresh mounts.  As they rode up to the ranch
+house the owner, Bud Wallace, came around the corner and saw them.
+
+ "Hullo, boys! What deviltry are yu up to now?" he asked.  Buck
+leaped from his mount, followed by the others, and shoved his sombrero
+back on his head as he started to remove the saddle.
+
+"We're trailin' a bunch of murderers.  They ambushed Johnny an' blame
+near killed him.  I stopped here to get fresh cayuses."
+
+"Yu did right!" replied Wallace heartily.  Then raising his voice he
+shouted to some of his men who were near the corral to bring up the
+seven best horses they could rope.  Then he told the cook to bring out
+plenty of food and drink.
+
+"I got four punchers what ain't doin' nothin' but eat," he
+suggested.
+
+"Much obliged, Wallace, but there's only four of `em, an' we'd
+rather get `em ourselves-Johnny'ud feel better," replied Buck,
+throwing his saddle on the horse that was led up to him.
+
+"How's yore cartridges-got plenty?"  Persisted Wallace.
+
+"Two hundred apiece," responded Buck, springing into his saddle and
+riding off.  "So long," he called.
+
+"So long, an' plug blazes out of them," shouted Wallace as the dust
+swept over him.
+
+At five in the afternoon they forded the Black River at a point
+where it crossed the state line from New Mexico, and at dusk camped at
+the base of the Guadalupe Mountains.  At daybreak they took up the
+chase, grim and merciless, and shortly afterward they passed the
+smoldering remains of a camp fire, showing that the pursued had been
+in a great hurry, for it should have been put out and masked.  At noon
+they left the mountains to the rear and sighted the Barred Horeshoe,
+which they approached.
+
+The owner of the ranch saw them coming, and from their appearance
+surmised that something was wrong.
+
+"What is it?"  He shouted.  "Rustlers?"
+
+"Nope.  Murderers.  I wants to swap cayuses quick," answered Buck.
+
+"There they are.  Th' boys just brought `em in.  Anything else I can
+let yu have?"
+
+"Nope," shouted Buck as they galloped off.
+
+"Somebody's goin' to get plugged full of holes," murmured the ranch
+owner as he watched them kicking up the dust in huge clouds.
+
+After they had forded a tributary of the Rio Penasco near the
+Sacramento Mountains and had surmounted the opposite bank, Hopalong
+spurred his horse to the top of a hummock and swept the plain with
+Pete's field glasses, which he had borrowed for the occasion, and
+returned to the rest, who had kept on without slacking the pace.  As he
+took up his former position he grunted, "War-whoops," and unslung his
+rifle, an example followed by the others.
+
+The ponies were now running at top speed, and as they shot over a rise their
+ riders saw their quarry a mile and a half in advance.  One of the Indians looked back
+and discharged his rifle in defiance, and it now became a race worthy
+of the name-Death fled from Death.  The fresher mounts of the cowboys
+steadily cut down the distance and, as the rifles of the pursuers
+began to speak, the hard-pressed Indians made for the smaller of two
+knolls, the plain leading to the larger one being too heavily strewn
+with bowlders to permit speed.
+
+As the fugitives settled down behind the rocks which fringed the
+edge of their elevation a shot from one of them disabled Billy's arm,
+but had no other effect than to increase the score to be settled.  The
+pursuers rode behind a rise and dismounted, from where, leaving their
+mounts protected, they scattered out to surround the knoll.
+
+Hopalong, true to his curiosity, finally turned up on the highest
+point of the other knoll, a spur of the range in the west, for he
+always wanted to see all he could.  Skinny, due to his fighting
+instinct, settled one hundred yards to the north and on the same spur.
+Buck lay hidden behind an enormous bowlder eight hundred yards to the
+northeast of Skinny, and the same distance southeast of Buck was Red
+Connors, who was crawling up the bed of an arroyo.  Billy, nursing his
+arm, lay in front of the horses, and Pete, from his position between
+Billy and Hopalong, was crawling from rock to rock in an endeavor to
+get near enough to use his Colts, his favorite and most effective
+weapons.  Intermittent puffs of smoke arising from a point between
+Skinny and Buck showed where Lanky Smith was improving each shining
+hour.
+
+There had been no directions given, each man choosing his own
+position, yet each was of strategic worth. Billy protected the horses,
+Hopalong and Skinny swept the knoll with a plunging fire, and Lanky
+and Buck lay in the course the besieged would most likely take if they
+tried a dash.  Off to the east Red barred them from creeping down the
+arroyo, and from where Pete was he could creep up to within sixty
+yards if he chose the right rocks. The ranges varied from four hundred
+yards for Buck to sixty for Pete, and the others averaged close to
+three hundred, which allowed very good shooting on both sides.
+
+Hopalong and Skinny gradually moved nearer to each other for
+companionship, and as the former raised his head to see what the
+others were doing he received a graze on the ear.
+
+"Wow!" he yelled, rubbing the tingling member.
+
+Two puffs of smoke floated up from the knoll, and Skinny swore.
+
+"Where'd he get yu, Fat?" asked Hopalong.
+
+                                                                 "G'wan, don't get funny, son," replied Skinny.
+
+
+Jets of smoke arose from the north and east, where Buck and Red were
+stationed, and Pete was half way to the knoll.  So far he hadn't been
+hit as he dodged in and out, and, emboldened by his luck, he made a
+run of five yards and his sombrero was shot from his head.  Another
+dash and his empty holster was ripped from its support. As he crouched
+behind a rock he heard a yell from Hopalong, and saw that interested
+individual waving his sombrero to cheer him on.  An angry pang! from
+the knoll caused that enthusiastic rooter to drop for safety.
+
+"Locoed son-of-a-gun," complained Pete.  "He'll shore git potted."
+Then he glanced at Billy, who was the center of several successive
+spurts of dust.
+
+"How's business, Billy?"  he called pleasantly.
+
+"Oh, they'll git me yet," responded the pessimist.  "Yu needn't git
+anxious.  If that off buck wasn't so green he'd `a' had me long ago."
+
+"Ya-hoo! Pete! Oh, Pete!" called Hopalong, sticking his head out at
+one side and grinning as the wondering object of his hail craned his
+neck to see what the matter was.
+
+"Huh?" grunted Pete, and then remembering the distance he shouted,
+"What's th' matter?"
+
+"Got any cigarettes?" asked Hopalong.
+
+`Yu poor sheep!" said Pete, and turning back to work he drove a .45
+into a yellow moccasin.
+
+Hopalong began to itch and he saw that he was near an ant hill.  Then
+the cactus at his right boomed out mournfully and a hole appeared in
+it. He fired at the smoke and a yell informed him that he had made a
+hit. "Go `way!" he complained as a green fly buzzed past his nose.
+Then he scratched each leg with the foot of the other and squirmed
+incessantly, kicking out with both feet at once.  A warning metallic
+whir-r-r! on his left caused to yank them in again, and turning his
+head quickly he the pleasure of lopping off the head of a rattlesnake
+with his Colt's.
+
+"Glad yu wasn't a copperhead," he exclaimed.  "Somebody had ought `a'
+shot that fool Noah.  Blast the ants!" He drowned with a jet of tobacco
+juice a Gila monster that was staring at him and took a savage delight
+in its frantic efforts to bury itself.
+
+Soon he heard Skinny swear and he sung out: "What's the matter,
+Skinny?  Git plugged again?"
+
+"Naw, bugs-ain't they mean?"  Plaintively asked his friend.  "They
+ain't none over here.  What kind of bugs?"
+
+"Sufferin' Moses, I ain't no bugologist! All kinds!"
+
+But Hopalong got it at last.  He had found tobacco and rolled a
+cigarette, and in reaching for a match exposed his shoulder to a shot
+that broke his collar bone.  Skinny's rifle cracked in reply and the
+offending brave rolled out from behind a rock.  From the fuss emanating
+from Hopalong's direction Skinny knew that his neighbor had been hit.
+
+"Don't yu care, Hoppy. I got th' cuss," he said consolingly.
+"Where'd he git yu?" he asked.
+
+"In di' heart, yu pie-faced nuisance.  Come over here an' corral this
+cussed bandage an' gimme some water," snapped the injured man.
+
+Skinny wormed his way through the thorny chaparral and bound up the
+shoulder.  "Anything else?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Shoot that bunch of warts an' blow that tobacco-eyed Gila to
+Cheyenne.  This here's worse than the time we cleaned out th' C 80
+outfit!"  Then he kicked the dead toad and swore at the sun.
+
+Close yore yap; yore worse than a kid! Anybody'd think yu never got
+plugged afore," said Skinny indignantly.
+
+I can cuss all I wants," replied Hopalong, proving his assertion as
+he grabbed his gun and fired at the dead Indian.  A bullet whined above
+his head and Skinny fired at the smoke.  He peeped out and saw that his
+friends were getting nearer to the knoll.
+
+"They's closin' in now.  We'll soon be gittin' home," he reported.
+
+Hopalong looked out in time to see Buck make a dash for a bowlder
+that lay ten yards in front of him, which he reached in safety.  Lanky
+also ran in and Pete added five more yards to his advance.  Buck made
+another dash, but leaped into the air, and, coming down as if from an
+intentional high jump, staggered and stumbled for a few paces and then
+fell flat, rolling over and over toward the shelter of a split rock,
+where he lay quiet.  A leering red face peered over the rocks on the
+knoll, but the whoop of exultation was cut short, for Red's rifle
+cracked and the warrior rolled down the steep bank, where another shot
+from the same gun settled him beyond question.
+
+Hopalong choked and, turning his face away, angrily dashed his
+knuckles into his eyes. "Blast `em! Blast `em! They've got Buck!
+They've got Buck, blast `em! They've got Buck, Skinny! Good old Buck!
+They've got him! Jimmy's gone, Johnny's plugged, and now Buck's gone!
+Come on!" he sobbed in a frenzy of vengeance.  "Come on, Skinny! We'll
+tear their cussed hides into a deeper red than they are now! Oh, blast
+it, I can't see-where's my gun?"   He groped for the rifle and fought
+Skinny when the latter, red-eyed but cool, endeavored to restrain him.
+"Lemme go, curse yu! Don't yu know they got Buck? Lemme go!"
+
+"Down! Red's got di' skunk.  Yu can't do nothin'-they'd drop yu afore
+yu took five steps.  Red's got him, I tell yu! Do yu want me to lick
+yu? We'll pay `em back with interest if yu'll keep yore head!"
+exclaimed Skinny, throwing the crazed man heavily.
+
+Musical tones, rising and falling in weird octaves, whining
+pityingly, diabolically, sobbing in a fascinating monotone and
+slobbering in ragged chords, calling as they swept over the plain,
+always calling and exhorting, they mingled in barbaric discord with
+the defiant barks of the six-shooters and the inquiring cracks of the
+Winchesters.  High up in the air several specks sailed and drifted,
+more coming up rapidly from all directions.  Buzzards know well where
+food can be found.
+
+As Hopalong leaned back against a rock he was hit in the thigh by a
+ricochet that tore its way out, whirling like a circular saw, a span
+above where it entered.  The wound was very nasty, being ripped twice
+the size made by an ordinary shot, and it bled profusely.  Skinny
+crawled over and attended to it, making a tourniquet of his
+neckerchief and clumsily bandaging it with a strip torn from his
+shirt.
+
+"Yore shore lucky, yu are," he grumbled as he made his way back to
+his post, where he vented his rancor by emptying the semi-depleted
+magazine of his Winchester at the knoll.
+
+Hopalong began to sing and shout and he talked of Jimmy and his
+childhood, interspersing the broken narrative with choice selections
+as sung in the music halls of Leavenworth and Abilene.  He wound up by
+yelling and struggling, and Skinny had his hands full in holding him.
+
+"Hopalong! Cassidy! Come out of that! Keep quiet-yu'll shore git
+plugged if yu don't stop that plungin'. For gosh sake, did yu hear
+that?"  A bullet viciously hissed between them and flattened out on a
+near-by rock; others cut their way through the chaparral to the sound
+of falling twigs, and Skinny threw himself on the struggling man and
+strapped Hopalong with his belt to the base of a honey mesquite that
+grew at his side.
+
+"Hold still, now, and let that bandage alone.  Yu allus goes off di'
+range when yu gets plugged," he complained.  He cut down a cactus and
+poured the sap over the wounded man's face, causing him to gurgle and
+look around. His eyes had a sane look now and Skinny slid off his
+chest.
+
+"Git that-belt loose; I ain't-no cow," brokenly blazed out the
+picketed Hopalong.  Skinny did so, handed the irate man his Colts and
+returned to his own post, from where he fired twice, reporting the
+shots.
+
+"I'm tryin' to get him on th' glance' first one went high an' th'
+other fell flat," he explained.
+
+Hopalong listened eagerly, for this was shooting that he could
+appreciate.  "Lemme see," he commanded.  Skinny dragged him over to a
+crack and settled down for another try
+
+"Where is he, Skinny?" Asked Hopalong.
+
+"Behind that second big one.  No, over on this here side.  See that
+smooth granite?  If I can get her there on th' right spot he'll shore
+know it."  He aimed carefully and fired.
+
+Through Pete's glasses Hopalong saw a leaden splotch appear on the
+rock and he notified the marksman that he was shooting high.  "Put her
+on that bump closer down," he suggested.  Skinny did so and another
+yell reached their ears.
+
+"That's a dandy.  Yore shore all right, yu old cuss," complimented
+Hopalong, elated at the success of the experiment.
+
+Skinny fired again and a brown arm flopped out into sight.  Another
+shot struck it and it jerked as though it were lifeless.
+
+"He's cashed.  See how she jumped?  Like a rope," remarked Skinny with
+a grin.  The arm lay quiet.
+
+Pete had gained his last cover and was all eyes and Colts.  Lanky was
+also very close in and was intently watching one particular rock.
+Several shots echoed from the far side of the knoll and they knew that
+Red was all right.  Billy was covering a cluster of rocks that
+protruded above the others and, as they looked, his rifle rang out and
+the last defender leaped down and disappeared in the chaparral.  He
+wore yellow trousers and an old boiled shirt.
+
+By an'-by, by all that's bad!" yelled Hopalong.  "Th' measly coyote!
+An' me a-fillin' his ornery hide with liquor.  Well, they'll have to
+find him all over again now," he complained, astounded by the
+revelation.  He fired into the chaparral to express his pugnacious
+disgust and scared out a huge tarantula, which alighted on Skinny's
+chaps, crawling rapidly toward the unconscious man's neck.  Hopalong's
+face hardened and he slowly covered the insect and fired, driving it
+into the sand, torn and lifeless.  The bullet touched the leathern
+garment and Skinny remonstrated, knowing that Hopalong was in no
+condition for fancy shooting.
+
+"Huh!" exclaimed Hopalong.  "That was a tarantula what I plugged.  He
+was headin' for yore neck," he explained, watching the chaparral with
+apprehension.
+
+"Go `way, was it? Bully for yu!" exclaimed Skinny, tarantulas being
+placed at par with rattlesnakes, and he considered that he had been
+saved from a horrible death.  "Thought yu said they wasn't no bugs over
+here," he added in an aggrieved tone.
+
+"They wasn't none.  Yu brought `em.  I only had th' main show-Gilas,
+rattlers an' toads," he replied, and then added, "Ain't it cussed hot
+up here?"
+
+"She is.  Yu won't have no cinch ridin' home with that leg.  Yu better
+take my cayuse-he's busted more'n yourn," responded Skinny.
+
+"Yore cayuse is at th' Cross Bar O, yu wall-eyed pirute."
+
+"Shore `nuff.  Funny how a feller forgets sometimes.  Lemme alone now,
+they's goin' to git By-an'-by.  Pete an' Lanky has just went in after
+him."
+
+That was what had occurred.  The two impatient punchers, had
+grown tired of waiting, and risked what might easily have been death
+in order to hasten matters.  The others kept up a rapid fire, directed
+at the far end of the chaparral on the knoll, in order to mask the
+movements of their venturesome friends, intending also to drive By-
+and-by toward them so that he would be the one to get picked off as he
+advanced.
+
+Several shots rang out in quick succession on the knoll and the
+chaparral became agitated. Several more shots sounded from the depth
+of the thicket and a mounted Indian dashed out of the northern edge
+and headed in Buck's direction.  His course would take him close to
+Buck, whom he had seen fall, and would let him escape at a point
+midway between Red and Skinny, as Lanky was on the knoll and the range
+was very far to allow effective shooting by these two.
+
+Red saw him leave the chaparral and in his haste to reload jammed
+the cartridge, and By-and-by swept on toward temporary safety, with
+Red dancing in a paroxysm of rage, swelling his vocabulary with words
+he had forgotten existed.
+
+By-and-by, rising to his full height in the saddle, turned and
+wiggled his fingers at the frenzied Red and made several other signs
+that the cowboy was in the humor to appreciate to the fullest extent.
+Then he turned and shook his rifle at the marksmen on the larger
+knoll, whose best shots kicked up the dust fully fifty yards too
+short.  The pony was sweeping toward the reservation and friends only
+fifteen miles away, and By-and-by knew that once among the mountains
+he would be on equal footing at least with his enemies.
+
+As he passed the rock behind which Buck lay sprawled on his face he uttered a
+piercing whoop of triumph and leaned forward on his pony's neck.
+Twenty leaps farther and the spiteful crack of a rifle echoed from
+where the foreman was painfully supporting himself on his elbows.  The
+pony swept on in a spurt of nerve-racking speed, but alone.  By-and-by
+shrieked again and crashed heavily to the ground, where he rolled
+inertly and then lay still.  Men like Buck are dangerous until their
+hearts have ceased to beat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+Trials of the Convalescent
+
+
+The days at the ranch passed in irritating idleness for those who had
+obstructed the flight of hostile lead, and worse than any of the
+patients was Hopalong, who fretted and fumed at his helplessness,
+which retarded his recovery.  But at last the day came when he was fit
+for the saddle again, and he gave notice of his joy in whoops and
+forthwith announced that he was entitled to a holiday; and Buck had
+not the heart to refuse him
+
+So he started forth in his quest of peace and pleasure, but instead
+had found only trouble and had been forced to leave his card at almost
+every place he had visited.
+
+There was that affair in Red Hot Gulch, Colorado, where, under
+pressure, he had invested sundry pieces of lead in the persons of
+several obstreperous citizens and then had paced the zealous and
+excitable sheriff to the state line.
+
+He next was noticed in Cheyenne, where his deformity was vividly
+dwelt upon, to the extent of six words, by one Tarantula Charley, the
+aforesaid Charley not being able to proceed to greater length on
+account of heart failure.  As Charley had been a ubiquitous nuisance,
+those present availed themselves of the opportunity offered by
+Hopalong to indulge in a free drink.
+
+Laramie was his next stopping place, and shortly after his
+arrival he was requested to sing and dance by a local terror, who
+informed all present that he was the only seventeen-buttoned
+rattlesnake in the cow country.  Hopalong, hurt and indignant at being
+treated like a common tenderfoot, promptly knocked the terror down.
+After he had irrigated several square feet of parched throats
+belonging to the audience he again took up his journey and spent a day
+at Denver, where he managed to avoid any further trouble.
+
+Santa Fe loomed up before him several days later and he entered it
+shortly before noon.  At this time the old Spanish city was a bundle of
+high-strung nerves, and certain parts of it were calculated to furnish
+any and all kinds of excitement except revival meetings and church
+fairs.  Hopalong straddled a lively nerve before he had been in the
+city an hour.  Two local bad men, Slim Travennes and Tex Ewalt,
+desiring to establish the fact that they were roaring prairie fires,
+attempted to consume the placid and innocent stranger as he limped
+across the plaza in search of a game of draw poker at the Black Hills
+Emporium, with the result that they needed repairs, to the chagrin and
+disgust of their immediate acquaintances, who endeavored to drown
+their mortification and sorrow in rapid but somewhat wild gun play,
+and soon remembered that they had pressing engagements elsewhere.
+
+Hopalong reloaded his guns and proceeded to the Emporium, where he
+found a game all prepared for him in every sense of the word.  On the
+third deal he objected to the way in which the dealer manipulated the
+cards, and when the smoke cleared away he was the only occupant of the
+room, except a dog belonging to the bartender that had intercepted a
+stray bullet.
+
+Hunting up the owner of the hound, he apologized for being the
+indirect cause of the animal's death, deposited a sum of Mexican
+dollars in that gentleman's palm and went on his way to Alameda, which
+he entered shortly after dark, and where an insult, simmering in its
+uncalled-for venom, met him as he limped across the floor of the local
+dispensary on his way to the bar.  There was no time for verbal
+argument and precedent had established the manner of his reply, and
+his repartee was as quick as light and most effective.  Having resented
+the epithets he gave his attention to the occupants of the room.
+
+Smoke drifted over the table in an agitated cloud and dribbled
+lazily upward from the muzzle of his six-shooter, while he looked
+searchingly at those around him.  Strained and eager faces peered at
+his opponent, who was sliding slowly forward in his chair, and for the
+length of a minute no sound but the guarded breathing of the onlookers
+could be heard.  This was broken by a nervous cough from the rear of
+the room, and the faces assumed their ordinary nonchalant expressions,
+their rugged lines heavily shadowed in the light of the flickering oil
+lamps, while the shuffling of cards and the clink of silver became
+audible.  Hopalong Cassidy had objected to insulting remarks about his
+affliction.
+
+Hopalong was very sensitive about his crippled leg and was always
+prompt to resent any scorn or curiosity directed at it, especially
+when emanating from strangers.  A young man of twenty-three years, when
+surrounded by nearly perfect specimens of physical manhood, is apt to
+be painfully self-conscious of any such defect, and it reacted on his
+nature at times, even though he was well-known for his happy-go-lucky
+disposition and playfulness.  He consoled himself with the knowledge
+that what he lost in symmetry was more than balanced by the celerity
+and certainty of his gun hand, which was right or left, or both, as
+the occasion demanded.
+
+Several hours later, as his luck was vacillating, he felt a heavy
+hand on his shoulder, and was overjoyed at seeing Buck and Red, the
+latter grinning as only Red could grin, and he withdrew from the game
+to enjoy his good fortune.
+
+While Hopalong had been wandering over the country the two friends
+had been hunting for him and had traced him successfully, that being
+due to the trail he had blazed with his six-shooters.  This they had
+accomplished without harm to themselves, as those of whom they
+inquired thought that they must want Hopalong "bad," and cheerfully
+gave the information required.
+
+They had started out more for the purpose of accompanying him for
+pleasure, but that had changed to an urgent necessity in the following
+manner:
+
+While on the way from Denver to Santa Fe they had met Pete Willis of
+the Three Triangle, a ranch that adjoined their own, and they paused
+to pass the compliments of the season.
+
+"Purty far from th' grub wagon, Pie," remarked Buck.
+
+"Oh, I'm only goin' to Denver," responded Pie.
+
+"Purty hot," suggested Red.
+
+"She shore is.  Seen anybody yu knows?" Pie asked.
+
+"One or two-Billy of th' Star Crescent an' Panhandle Lukins,"
+answered Buck.
+
+"That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year.  I'll hunt him
+up.  I heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his
+brothers are lookin' for trouble," offered Pie.
+
+"Yah! They ain't lookin' for no trouble-they just goes around
+blowin' off. Trouble?  Why, they don't know what she is," remarked Red
+contemptuously.
+
+"Well, they's been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' if
+that ain't trouble I don't know what is," said Pie.
+
+"It shore is, an' hard to dodge," acquiesced Buck.
+
+"Well, I has to amble. Is Panhandle in Denver?  Yes?  I calculates as
+how me an' him'll buck th' tiger for a whirl-he's shore lucky.  Well,
+so long," said Pie as he moved on.
+
+"So long," responded the two.
+
+"Hey, wait a minute," yelled Pie after he had ridden a hundred
+yards.  "If yu sees Hopalong yu might tell him that th' Joneses are
+goin' to hunt him up when they gits to Albuquerque.  They's shore sore
+on him.  `Tain't none of my funeral, only they ain't always a-carin'
+how they goes after a feller.  So long," and soon he was a cloud of
+dust on the horizon.
+
+"Trouble!" snorted Red; "well, between dodgin' Harris an' huntin'
+Hopalong I reckons they'll shore find her. "Then to himself he
+murmured, "Funny how everythin' comes his way."
+
+"That's gospel shore enough, but, as Pie said, they ain't a whole
+lot particular as how they deal th' cards.  We better get a move on an'
+find that ornery little cuss," replied Buck.
+
+"O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy.  His gun's too
+lively for me to do any worryin'," asserted Red.
+
+"They'll get lynched some time, shore," declared Buck.
+
+"Not if they find Hoppy," grimly replied Red.
+
+They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their
+throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where
+they found Hopalong in the manner narrated.
+
+After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque,
+twelve miles to the south.  At ten o'clock they dismounted before the
+Nugget and Rope, an unpainted wooden building supposed to be a clever
+combination of barroom, dance and gambling hall and hotel.  The
+cleverness lay in the man who could find the hotel part.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+The Open Door
+
+
+The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being
+troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose of
+inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for
+obvious reasons.  Probably not one man in ten was fortunate enough to
+have no one "looking for him," and the lighted interior assured good
+hunting to any one in the dark street.  He was continually opening the
+door, which every newcomer promptly and forcibly slammed shut.  When he
+saw men walk across the room for the express purpose of slamming it he
+began to cherish the idea that there was a conspiracy on foot to anger
+him and thus force him to bring about his own death.
+
+ After the door had been slammed three times in one evening by one man,
+the last slam being so forcible as to shake two bottles from the shelf and to crack
+the door itself, he became positive that his suspicions were correct,
+and so was very careful to smile and take it as a joke.  Finally,
+wearied by his vain efforts to keep it open and fearing for the door,
+he hit upon a scheme, the brilliancy of which inflated his chest and
+gave him the appearance of a prize-winning bantam.  When his patrons
+strolled in that night there was no door to slam, as it lay behind the
+bar.
+
+When Buck and Red entered, closely followed by Hopalong, they
+elbowed their way to the rear of the room, where they could see before
+being seen.  As yet they had said nothing to Hopalong about Pie's
+warning and were debating in their minds whether they should do so or
+not, when Hopalong interrupted their thoughts by laughing.  They looked
+up and he nodded toward the front, where they saw that anxious eyes
+from all parts of the room were focused on the open door.  Then they
+noticed that it had been removed.
+
+The air of semi-hostile, semi-anxious inquiry of the patrons and the smile
+of satisfaction covering the face of Baum appealed to them as the
+ most ludicrous sight their eyes had seen for months, and they leaned back and roared with
+laughter, thus calling forth sundry looks of disapproval from the
+innocent causes of their merriment.  But they were too well known in
+Albuquerque to allow the disapproval to approach a serious end, and
+finally, as the humorous side of the situation dawned on the crowd,
+they joined in the laugh and all went merrily.
+
+
+At the psychologic moment some one shouted for a dance and the
+suggestion met with uproarious approval.  At that moment Harris, the
+sheriff, came in and volunteered to supply the necessary music if the
+crowd would pay the fine against a straying fiddler he had corraled
+the day before.  A hat was quickly passed and a sum was realized which
+would pay several fines to come and Harris departed for the music.
+
+A chair was placed on the bar for the musician and, to the tune of
+"Old Dan Tucker" and an assortment of similar airs, the board floor
+shook and trembled.  It was a comical sight and Hopalong, the only
+wallflower besides Baum and the sheriff, laughed until he became weak.
+Cow punchers play as they work, hard and earnestly, and there was
+plenty of action.  Sombreros flapped like huge wings and the baggy
+chaps looked like small, distorted balloons.
+
+The Virginia reel was a marvel of supple, exaggerated grace and the
+quadrille looked like a free-for-all for unbroken colts.  The honor of
+prompter was conferred upon the sheriff, and he gravely called the
+changes as they were usually called in that section of the country:
+
+   "Oh, th' ladies trail in
+      An' th' gents trail out,
+   An' all stampede down th' middle.
+      If yu ain't got th' tin
+         Yu can dance an' shout,
+   But yu must keep up with th' fiddle."
+
+
+As the dance waxed faster and the dancers grew hotter Hopalong,
+feeling lonesome because he wouldn't face ridicule, even if it was not
+expressed, went over and stood by the sheriff.  He and Harris were good
+friends, for he had received the wound that crippled him in saving the
+sheriff from assassination.  Harris killed the man who had fired that
+shot, and from this episode on the burning desert grew a friendship
+that was as strong as their own natures.
+
+Harris was very well liked by the majority and feared by the rest,
+for he was a square man and the best sheriff the county had ever
+known.  Quiet and unassuming, small of stature and with a kind word for
+every one, he was a universal favorite among the better class of
+citizens.  Quick as a flash and unerring in his shooting, he was a
+nightmare to the "bad men."  No profane word had ever been known to
+leave his lips, and he was the possessor of a widespread reputation
+for generosity.  His face was naturally frank and open; but when his
+eyes narrowed with determination it became blank and cold.  When he saw
+his young friend sidle over to him he smiled and nodded a hearty welcome.
+
+
+
+"They's shore cuttin' her loose," remarked Hopalong.
+
+"First two pairs forward an' back!-they shore is," responded the
+prompter.
+
+"Who's th' gent playin' lady to Buck?" Queried Hopalong.
+
+"Forward again an' ladies change!-Billy Jordan."
+
+Hopalong watched the couple until they swung around and then he
+laughed silently.  "Buck's got too many feet," he seriously remarked to
+his friend.
+
+"Swing th' girl yu loves th' best!-he ain't lonesome, look at that-"
+
+Two shots rang out in quick succession and Harris stumbled, wheeled
+and pitched forward on his face as Hopalong's sombrero spun across his
+body.  For a second there was an intense silence, heavy, strained and
+sickening.  Then a roar broke forth and the crowd of frenzied merry-
+makers, headed by Hopalong, poured out into the street and spread out
+to search the town.  As daylight dawned the searchers began to straggle
+back with the same report of failure.  Buck and Red met on the street
+near the door and each looked questioningly at the other.  Each shook
+his head and looked around, their fingers toying absentmindedly at
+their belts.  Finally Buck cleared his throat and remarked casually,
+
+"Mebby he's following `em."
+
+Red nodded and they went over toward their horses.  As they were
+hesitating which route to take, Billy Jordan came up.
+
+"Mebby yu'd like to see yore pardner-he's out by Buzzard's Spring.
+We'll take care of him," jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward
+the saloon where Harris's body lay.  "And we'll all git th' others
+later.  They cain't git away for long."
+
+Buck and Red nodded and headed for Buzzard's Spring.  As they neared
+the water hole they saw Hopalong sitting on a rock, his head resting
+in one hand while the other hung loosely from his knee.  He did not
+notice them when they arrived, and with a ready tact they sat quietly
+on their horses and looked in every direction except toward him.  The
+sun became a ball of molten fire and the sand flies annoyed them
+incessantly, but still they sat and waited, silent and apologetic.
+
+Hopalong finally arose, reached for his sombrero, and, finding it
+gone, swore long and earnestly at the scene its loss brought before
+him.  He walked over to his horse and, leaping into the saddle, turned
+and faced his friends.  "Yu old sons-of-guns," he said.  They looked
+sheepish and nodded negatively in answer to the look of inquiry in his
+eyes.  "They ain't got `em yet," remarked Red slowly.  Hopalong
+straightened up, his eyes narrowed and his face became hard and
+resolute as he led the way back toward the town.
+
+Buck rode up beside him and, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve,
+began to speak to Red.  "We might look up th' Joneses, Red.  They had
+been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' they was huntin'
+Hopalong.  Ever since we had to kill their brother in Buckskin they has
+been yappin' as how they was goin' to wipe us out.  Hopalong an' Harris
+was standin' clost together an' they tried for both.  They shot twice,
+one for Harris an' one for Hopalong, an' what more do yu want?"
+
+"It shore looks thataway, Buck," replied Red, biting into a huge
+plug of tobacco which he produced from his chaps.  "Anyhow, they
+wouldn't be no loss if they didn't.  "Member what Pie said?"
+
+Hopalong looked straight ahead, and when he spoke the words sounded
+as though he had bitten them off: "Yore right, Buck, but I gits first
+try at Thirsty.  He's my meat an' I'll plug th' fellow what says he
+ain't.  Damn him!"
+
+The others replied by applying their spurs, and in a short time they
+dismounted before the Nugget and Rope.  Thirsty wouldn't have a chance
+to not care how he dealt the cards.
+
+Buck and Red moved quickly through the crowd, speaking fast and
+earnestly.  When they returned to where they had left their friend they
+saw him half a block away and they followed slowly, one on either side
+of the street.  There would be no bullets in his back if they knew what
+they were about, and they usually did.
+
+As Hopalong neared the corner, Thirsty and his two brothers turned
+it and saw him.  Thirsty said something in a low voice, and the other
+two walked across the street and disappeared behind the store.  When
+assured that they were secure, Thirsty walked up to a huge boulder on
+the side of the street farthest from the store and turned and faced
+his enemy, who approached  rapidly until about five paces away, when
+he slowed up and finally stopped.
+
+For a number of seconds they sized each other up, Hopalong quiet and
+deliberate with a deadly hatred; Thirsty pale and furtive with a
+sensation hitherto unknown to him.  It was Right meeting Wrong, and
+Wrong lost confidence.  Often had Thirsty Jones looked death in the
+face and laughed, but there was something in Hopalong's eyes that made
+his flesh creep.
+
+He glanced quickly past his foe and took in the scene with one flash
+of his eyes.  There was the crowd, eager, expectant, scowling.  There
+were Buck and Red, each lounging against a boulder, Buck on his right,
+Red on his left. Before him stood the only man he had ever feared.
+Hopalong shifted his feet and Thirsty, coming to himself with a start,
+smiled.  His nerve had been shaken, but he was master of himself once
+more.
+
+"Well!" he snarled, scowling.
+
+Hopalong made no response, but stared him in the eyes.
+
+Thirsty expected action, and the deadly quiet of his enemy oppressed
+him.  He stared in turn, but the insistent searching of his opponent's
+eyes scorched him and he shifted his gaze to Hopalong's neck.
+
+"Well!" he repeated uneasily.
+
+"Did yu have a nice time at th' dance last night?"  Asked Hopalong,
+still searching the face before him.
+
+"Was there a dance?  I was over in Alameda," replied Thirsty shortly.
+
+"Ya-as, there was a dance, an' yu can shoot purty durn far if yu was
+in Alameda," responded Hopalong, his voice low and monotonous.
+
+Thirsty shifted his feet and glanced around.  Buck and Red were still
+lounging against their bowlders and apparently were not paying any
+attention to the proceedings.  His fickle nerve came back again, for he
+knew he would receive fair play.  So he faced Hopalong once more and
+regarded him with a cynical smile.
+
+"Yu seems to worry a whole lot about me.  Is it because yu has a
+tender feelin', or because it's none of yore blame business?"  He asked
+aggressively.
+
+Hopalong paled with sudden anger, but controlled himself.
+
+"It's because yu murdered Harris," he replied.
+
+"Shoo! An' how does yu figger it out?"  Asked Thirsty, jauntily.
+
+"He was huntin' yu hard an' yu thought yu'd stop it, so yu came in
+to lay for him.  When yu saw me an' him together yu saw di' chance to
+wipe out another score.  That's how I figger it out," replied Hopalong
+quietly.
+
+"Yore a reg'lar `tective, ain't yu?" Thirsty asked ironically.
+
+"I've got common sense," responded Hopalong.
+
+"Yu has?  Yu better tell th' rest that, too," replied Thirsty.
+
+"I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny
+remarks.  Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel
+better, too."
+
+"Shoo! An' suppose I did shoot him, I done a good job, didn't I?"
+
+"Yu did the worst job yu could do, yu highway robber," softly said
+Hopalong, at the same time moving nearer.  "Harris knew yu stopped th'
+stage last month, an' that's why yu've been dodgin' him."
+
+"Yore a liar!" shouted Thirsty, reaching for his gun.
+
+The movement was fatal, for before he could draw, the Colt in
+Hopalong's holster leaped out and flashed from its owner's hip and
+Thirsty fell sideways, face down in the dust of the street.
+
+Hopalong started toward the fallen man, but as he did so a shot rang
+out from behind the store and he pitched forward, stumbled and rolled
+behind the bowlder.  As he stumbled his left hand streaked to his hip,
+and when he fell he had a gun in each hand.
+
+As he disappeared from sight Goodeye and Bill Jones stepped from
+behind the store and started to run away.  Not able to resist the
+temptation to look again, they stopped and turned and Bil1 laughed.
+
+"Easy as sin," he said.
+
+"Run, yu fool-Red an' Buck'll be here.  Want to git plugged?"
+shouted Goodeye angrily.
+
+They turned and started for a group of ponies twenty yards away,
+and as they leaped into the saddles two shots were fired from the
+street.  As the reports died away Buck and Red turned the corner of the
+store, Colts in hand, and, checking their rush as they saw the saddles
+emptied, they turned toward the street and saw Hopalong, with blood
+oozing from an abrasion on his cheek, sitting up cross-legged, with
+each hand holding a gun, from which came thin wisps of smoke.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun!" cried Buck, proud and delighted.
+
+"Th' son-of-a-gun!" echoed Red, grinning.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+Hopalong Keeps His Word
+
+
+The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot
+sun branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire.  To the
+north arose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and
+beyond them lay Bass Ca on.  From the latter emerged a solitary figure
+astride a broncho, and as he ascended the topmost rise he glanced
+below him at the placid stream and beyond it into Mexico.  As he sat
+quietly in his saddle he smiled and laughed gently to himself.  The
+trail he had just followed had been replete with trouble which had
+suited the state of his mind and he now felt humorous, having cleaned
+up a pressing debt with his six-shooter.  Surely there ought to be a
+mild sort of excitement in the land he faced, something picturesque
+and out of the ordinary.  This was to be the finishing touch to his
+trip, and he had left his two companions at Albuquerque in order that
+he might have to himself all that he could find.
+
+Not many miles to the south of him lay the town which had been the
+rendezvous of Tamale Jose, whose weakness had been a liking for other
+people's cattle.  Well he remembered his first man hunt: the discovery
+of the theft, the trail and pursuit and- the ending.  He was scarcely
+eighteen years of age when that event took place, and the wisdom he
+had absorbed then had stood him in good stead many times since.  He had
+even now a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companions
+ had failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped
+strategy had gained that end.  The fight would never be forgotten, as
+it was his first, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did
+those of Red Connors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that
+old adobe hut.
+
+He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of
+Carmencita, the first girl he had ever known-and the last.  With a
+boy's impetuosity he had wooed her in a manner far different from that
+of the peons who sang beneath her window and talked to her mother.  He
+had boldly scaled the wall and did his courting in her house, trusting
+to luck and to his own ability to avoid being seen.  No hidden meaning
+lay in his words; he spoke from his heart and with no concealment.  And
+he remembered the treachery that had forced him, fighting, to the camp
+of his outfit; and when he had returned with his friends she had
+disappeared.
+
+To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those
+sisters who so easily forgot how to talk.  The fragrance of the old
+days wrapped themselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine
+for his black-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to
+see her again.  Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to
+and across the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuing
+Tamale Jose.
+
+The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming
+of guitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed from
+several houses.  The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavy
+shadows and the little church farther up the dusty street showed dim
+lights in its stained windows.  Off to the north became audible the
+rhythmic beat of a horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with
+a mocking bow.
+
+He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his
+mount back on its haunches as he stopped before a house.  Glancing
+around and determining to find out a few facts as soon as possible, he
+rode up to the low door and pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt.
+After waiting for possibly half a minute and receiving no response he
+hammered a tune upon it with two Colts and had the satisfaction of
+seeing half a score of heads protrude from the windows in the nearby
+houses.
+
+"If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town
+up," he grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.
+
+"Who is it?" came from within.  The voice was distinctly feminine and
+Hopalong winked to himself in congratulation.
+
+"Me," he replied, twirling his fingers from his nose at the curious,
+forgetting that the darkness hid his actions from sight.
+
+"Yes, I know; but who is `me'?"  Came from the house.
+
+"Ain't I a fool!" he complained to himself, and raising his voice
+lie replied coaxingly, "Open th' door a bit an' see.  Are yu
+Carmencita?"
+
+"O-o-o! but you must tell me who it is first."
+
+"Mr. Cassidy," he replied, flushing at the `mister,' "an' I wants to
+see Carmencita."
+
+"Carmencita who?" teasingly came from behind the door.  Hopalong
+scratched his head.  "Gee, yu've roped me-I suppose she has got another
+handle.  Oh, yu know-she used to live here about seven years back.  She
+had great big black eyes, pretty cheeks an' a mouth that `ud stampede
+anybody.  Don't yu know now? She was about so high," holding out his
+hands in the darkness.
+
+The door opened a trifle on a chain and Hopalong peered eagerly
+forward.
+
+"Ah, it is you, the brave Americano! You must go away quick or you
+will meet with harm.  Manuel is awfully jealous and he will kill you!
+Go at once, please!"
+
+Hopalong pulled at the half-hearted down upon his lip and laughed
+softly.  Then he slid the guns back in their holsters and felt for his
+sombrero.
+
+"Manuel wants to see me first, Star Eyes."
+
+"No! no!" she replied, stamping upon the floor vehemently.  "You
+must go now-at once!"
+
+"I'd shore look nice hittin' th' trail because Manuel Somebody wants
+to get hurt, wouldn't I?  Don't yu remember how I used to shinny up
+this here wall an' skin th' cat gettin' through that hole up there
+what yu said was a window?  Ah, come on an' open th' door-I'd shore
+like to see yu again!" pleaded the irrepressible.
+
+"No! no! Go away.  Oh, won't you please go away!"
+
+Hopalong sighed audibly and turned his horse.  As he did so he heard
+the door open and a sigh reached his ears.  He wheeled like a flash and
+found the door closed again on its chain.  A laugh of delight came from
+behind it.
+
+"Come out, please!-just for a minute," he begged, wishing that he
+was brave enough to smash the door to splinters and grab her.
+
+"If I do, will you go away?" Asked the girl.  "Oh, what will Manuel
+say if he comes?  And all those people, they'll tell him!"
+
+"Hey, yu!" shouted Hopalong, brandishing his Colts at the protruding
+heads.  "Git scarce! I'll shore plug th' last one in!"  Then he laughed
+at the sudden vanishing.
+
+The door slowly opened and Carmencita, fat and drowsy, wobbled out
+to him.  Hopalong's feelings were interfering with his breathing as he
+surveyed her.  "Oh, yu shore are mistaken, Mrs. Carmencita. I wants to
+see yore daughter!"
+
+"Ah, you have forgotten the little Carmencita who used to 1ook for
+you.  Like all the men, you have forgotten," she cooed reproachfully.
+Then her fear predominated again and she cried, "Oh, if my husband
+should see me now!"
+
+Hopalong mastered his astonishment and bowed.  He had a desire to
+ride madly into the Rio Grande and collect his senses.
+
+"Yu are right-this is too dangerous-I'll amble on some," he replied
+hastily.  Under his breath he prayed that the outfit would never learn
+of this.  He turned his horse and rode slowly up the street as the door
+closed.
+
+Rounding the corner he heard a soft footfall, and swerving in his
+saddle he turned and struck with all his might in the face of a man
+who leaped at him, at the same time grasping the uplifted wrist with
+his other hand.  A curse and the tinkle of thin steel on the pavement
+accompanied the fall of his opponent.  Bending down from his saddle he
+picked up the weapon and the next minute the enraged assassin was
+staring into the unwavering and, to him, growing muzzle of a Colt's
+.45.
+
+"Yu shore had a bum teacher.  Don't yu know better'n to push it in?
+An' me a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct-it shows
+you don't appreciate cow-wrastlers.  This is safer," he remarked,
+throwing the stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang
+out angrily and quivered.  "I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we
+mostly poisons coyotes up my way," he added.  Then a thought struck
+him.  "Yu must be that dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?"
+
+A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.
+
+"Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever.  I
+don't want yore Carmencita.  I only called to say hulloo," responded
+Hopalong, his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him
+from his vivid recollection of the woman who had opened the door.
+
+"Yah!" snarled Manuel.  "You wants to poison my little bird.  You with
+your fair hair and your cursed swagger!"
+
+The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from the
+Mexican's nose.  "Yu wants to ride easy, hombre.  I ain't no angel, but
+I don't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore
+head that she wants to be poisoned.  Why, she near stuck a knife in
+me!" he lied.
+
+The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than
+that to wipe out the insult of the blow.  The horse became restless,
+and when Hopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.
+
+"Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' `dobe hut by th'
+arroyo.  I'm tellin' yu this so yu won't do nothin' rash an' leave
+Carmencita a widow. Sabe?"
+
+The hate on the Mexican's face redoubled and he took a short step
+forward, but stopped when the muzzle of the Colt kissed his nose.  He
+was the brother of Tamale Jose.  As he backed away from the cool touch
+of the weapon he thought out swiftly his revenge.  Some of his
+brother's old companions were at that moment drinking mescal in a
+saloon down the street, and they would be glad to see this Americano
+die.  He glanced past his house at the saloon and Hopalong misconstrued
+his thoughts.
+
+"Shore, go home.  I'll just circulate around some for exercise.  No
+hard feelings, only yu better throw it next time," he said as he
+backed away and rode off. Manuel went down the street and then ran
+into the saloon, where he caused an uproar.
+
+Hopalong rode to the end of the plaza and tried to sing, but it was
+a dismal failure.  Then he felt thirsty and wondered why he hadn't
+thought of it before.  Turning his horse and seeing the saloon he rode
+up to it and in, lying flat on the animal's neck to avoid being swept
+off by the door frame.  His entrance scared white some half a dozen
+loungers, who immediately sprang up in a decidedly hostile manner.
+Hopalong's Colts peeped over the ears of his horse and he backed into
+a corner near the bar.
+
+"One, two, three-now, altogether, breathe! Yu acts like yu never saw
+a real puncher afore.  All th' same," he remarked, nodding at several
+of the crowd, "I've seen yu afore.  Yu are th' gents with th' hot-foot
+get-a-way that vamoosed when we got Tamale."
+
+Curses were flung at him and only the humorous mood he was in saved
+trouble.  One, bolder than the rest, spoke up: "The senor will not see
+any `hot-foot get-a-way,' as he calls it, now! The senor was not wise
+to go so far away from his friends!"'
+
+Hopalong looked at the speaker and a quizzical grin slowly spread
+over his face.  "They'll shore feel glad when I tells them yu was
+askin' for `em.  But didn't yu see too much of `em once, or was yu
+poundin' leather in the other direction?  Yu don't want to worry none
+about me-an' if yu don't get yore hands closter to yore neck they'll
+be heck to pay! There, that's more like home," he remarked, nodding
+assurance.
+
+Reaching over he grasped a bottle and poured out a drink, his Colt
+slipping from his hand and dangling from his wrist by a thong.  As the
+weapon started to fall several of the audience involuntarily moved as
+if to pick it up.  Hopalong noticed this and paused with the glass half
+way to his lips.  "Don't bother yoreselves none; I can git it again,"
+he said, tossing off the liquor.
+
+"Wow! Holy smoke!" he yelled.  "This ain't drink! Sufferin' coyotes,
+nobody can accuse yu of sellin' liquor! Did yu make this all by
+yoreself?"  He asked incredulously of the proprietor, who didn't know
+whether to run or to pray.  Then he noticed that the crowd was
+spreading out and his Colts again became the center of interest.
+
+"Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!" he ordered as the person
+addressed was gliding toward the door.  "I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot
+me from th' street.  Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop
+somethin' hot.  An' yu all better sit down," he suggested, sweeping
+them with his guns.  One man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in
+complying and Hopalong sent a bullet through the top of his high
+sombrero, which had a most gratifying effect.
+
+"You'll regret this!" hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur of
+assent arose.  Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon and
+immediately a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.
+
+"Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo," counted off the
+daring horseman; "move a bit an' off yu go, he finished.  Then his face
+broke out in another grin as lie thought of more enjoyment.
+
+That there gent on th' left," he said, pointing out with a gun the
+man he meant.  "Yu sing us a song.  Sing a nice little song."
+
+As the object of his remarks remained mute he let his thumb
+ostentatiously slide back with the hammer of the gun under it.   Sing!
+Quick!" The man sang.
+
+As Hopalong leaned forward to say something a stiletto flashed past
+his neck and crashed into the bottle beside him.  The echo of the crash
+was merged into a report as Hopalong fired from his waist.  Then he
+backed out into the Street and, wheeling, galloped across the plaza
+and again faced the saloon. A flash split the darkness and a bullet
+hummed over his head and thudded into an adobe wall at his back.
+Another shot and he replied, aiming at the flash.
+
+From down the Street came the sound of a window opening
+and he promptly caused it to close again.  Several more windows
+opened and hastily closed, and he rode slowly toward the far
+end of the plaza.  As he faced the saloon once
+more he heard a command to throw up his hands and saw the glint of a
+gun, held by a man who wore the insignia of sheriff.  Hopalong
+complied, but as his hands went up two spurts of fire shot forth and
+the sheriff dropped his weapon, reeled and sat down.  Hopalong rode
+over to him and swinging down, picked up the gun and looked the
+officer over.
+
+
+
+"Shoo, yu'll be all right soon-yore only plugged in th' arms," he
+remarked as he glanced up the street.  Shadowy forms were gliding from
+cover to cover and he immediately caused consternation among them by
+his accuracy.  "Ain't it sad?"  He complained to the wounded man.  "I never starts out
+but what somebody makes me shoot `em.  Came down here to see a girl an'
+find she's married.  Then when I moves on peaceable-like her husband
+makes me hit him.  Then I wants a drink an' he goes an' fans a knife at
+me, an' me just teachin' him how! Then yu has to come along an' make
+more trouble".
+
+Now look at them fools over there," he said, pointing at
+a dark shadow some fifty paces off.  "They're pattin' their backs
+because I don't see `em, an' if I hurts them they'll git mad.  Guess
+I'll make `em dust along," he added, shooting into the spot.  A howl
+went up and two men ran away at top speed.
+
+The sheriff nodded his sympathy and spoke.  "I reckons you had better
+give up.  You can't get away.  Every house, every corner and shadow
+holds a man.  You are a brave man, but, as you say, unfortunate.  Better
+help me up and come with me-they'll tear you to pieces."
+
+"Shore I'll help yu up-I ain't got no grudge against nobody.  But my
+friends know where I am an' they'll come down here an' raise a ruction
+if I don't show up.  So, if it's all th' same to you, I'll be ambling
+right along," he said as he helped the sheriff to his feet.
+
+"Have you any objections to telling me your name?" Asked the sheriff
+as he looked himself over.
+
+"None whatever," answered Hopalong heartily.  "I'm Hopalong Cassidy
+of th' Bar 20, Texas."
+
+"You don't surprise me-I've heard of you," replied the sheriff
+wearily.  "You are the man who killed Tamale Jose, whom I hunted for
+unceasingly.  I found him when you had left and I got the reward.  Come
+again some time and I'll divide with you; two hundred and fifty
+dollars," he added craftily.
+
+"I shore will, but I don't want no money," replied Hopalong as he
+turned away.  "Adios, senor," he called back.
+
+"Adios," replied the sheriff as he kicked a nearby door for
+assistance.
+
+The cow-pony tied itself up in knots as it pounded down the street
+toward the trail, and although he was fired on he swung into the dusty
+trail with a song on his lips.  Several hours later he stood dripping
+wet on the American side of the Rio Grande and shouted advice to a
+score of Mexican cavalrymen on the opposite bank.  Then he slowly
+picked his way toward El Paso for a game at Faro Dan's.
+
+The sheriff sat in his easy chair one night some three weeks later,
+gravely engaged in rolling a cigarette.  His arms were practically
+well, the wounds being in the fleshy parts.  He was a philosopher and
+was disposed to take things easy, which accounted for his being in his
+official position for fifteen years.  A gentleman at the core, he was
+well educated and had visited a goodly portion of the world.  A book of
+Horace lay open on his knees and on the table at his side lay a
+shining new revolver, Hopalong having carried off his former weapon.
+He read aloud several lines and in reaching for a light for his
+cigarette noticed the new six-shooter.  His mind leaped from Horace to
+Hopalong, and he smiled grimly at the latter's promise to call.
+
+Glancing up, his eyes fell on a poster which conveyed the information
+in Spanish and in English that there was offered
+
++--------------------------------------+
+|                                      |
+|        FIVE HUNDRED PESOS            |
+|              REWARD                  |
+| For Hopalong Cassidy, of the Ranch   |
+| Known as the Bar-20, Texas, U. S. A. |
+|                                      |
++--------------------------------------+
+
+and which gave a good description of that gentleman.
+
+Sighing for the five hundred, he again took up his book and was lost
+in its pages when he heard a knock, rather low and timid.  Wearily
+laying aside his reading, he strode to the door, expecting to hear a
+lengthy complaint from one of his townsmen.  As he threw the door wide
+open the light streamed out and lighted up a revolver and behind it
+the beaming face of a cowboy, who grinned.
+
+"Well, I'll be damned!" ejaculated the sheriff, starting back in
+amazement.
+
+"Don't say that, sheriff; you've got lots of time to reform," replied
+a humorous voice.  "How's th' wings?"
+
+"Almost well: you were considerate," responded the sheriff.  "Let's
+go in-somebody might see me out here an' get into trouble," suggested
+the visitor, placing his foot on the sill.
+
+"Certainly-pardon my discourtesy," said the sheriff.  "You see, I
+wasn't expecting you to-night," he explained, thinking of the
+elaborate preparations that he would have gone to if he had thought
+the irrepressible would call.
+
+"Well, I was down this way, an' seeing as how I had promised to drop
+in I just natchurally dropped," replied Hopalong as he took the chair
+proffered by his host.
+
+After talking awhile on everything and nothing the sheriff coughed
+and looked uneasily at his guest.
+
+"Mr. Cassidy, I am sorry you called, for I like men of your energy
+and courage and I very much dislike to arrest you," remarked the
+sheriff.  "Of course you understand that you are under arrest," he
+added with anxiety.
+
+"Who, me?"  Asked I-Hopalong with a rising inflection.
+
+"Most assuredly," breathed the sheriff.
+
+"Why, this is the first time I ever heard anything about it,"
+replied the astonished cow-puncher.  "I'm an American-don't that make
+any difference?"
+
+"Not in this case, I'm afraid.  You see, it's for manslaughter."
+
+"Well, don't that beat th' devil, now?"  Said Hopalong.  He felt sorry
+that a citizen of the glorious United States should be prey for
+troublesome sheriffs, but he was sure that his duty to Texas called
+upon him never to submit to arrest at the hands of a Mexican.
+Remembering the Alamo, and still behind his Colt, he reached over and
+took up the shining weapon from the table and snapped it open on his
+knee.  After placing the cartridges in his pocket he tossed the gun
+over on the bed and, reaching inside his shirt, drew out another and
+threw it after the first.
+
+"That's yore gun; I forgot to leave it," he said, apologetically.
+"Anyhow yu needs two," he added.
+
+Then he glanced around the room, noticed the poster and walked over
+and read it.  A full swift sweep of his gloved hand tore it from its
+fastenings and crammed it under his belt.  The glimmer of anger in his
+eyes gave way as he realized that his head was worth a definite price,
+and he smiled at what the boys would say when he showed it to them.
+Planting his feet far apart and placing his arms akimbo he faced his
+host in grim defiance.
+
+"Got any more of these?"  He inquired, placing his hand on the poster
+under his belt.
+
+"Several," replied the sheriff.
+
+"Trot `em out," ordered Hopalong shortly.
+
+The sheriff sighed, stretched and went over to a shelf, from which
+he took a bundle of the articles in question.  Turning slowly he looked
+at the puncher and handed them to him.
+
+"I reckons they's all over this here town," remarked Hopalong.
+
+"They are, and you may never see Texas again."
+
+"So?  Well, yu tell yore most particular friends that the job is
+worth five thousand, and that it will take so many to do it that when
+th' mazuma is divided up it won't buy a meal.  There's only one man in
+this country tonight that can earn that money, an' that's me," said
+the puncher.  "An' I don't need it," he added, smiling.
+
+"But you are my prisoner-you are under arrest," enlightened the
+sheriff, rolling another cigarette.  The sheriff spoke as if asking a
+question.  Never before had five hundred dollars been so close at hand
+and yet so unobtainable.  It was like having a check-book but no bank
+account.
+
+"I'm shore sorry to treat yu mean," remarked Hopalong, "but I was
+paid a month in advance an' I'll have to go back an' earn it."
+
+"You can-if you say that you will return," replied the sheriff
+tentatively.  The sheriff meant what he said and for the moment had
+forgotten that he was powerless and was not the one to make terms.
+
+Hopalong was amazed and for a time his ideas of Mexicans staggered
+under the blow.  Then he smiled sympathetically as he realized that he
+faced a white man.
+
+"Never like to promise nothin'," he replied.  "I might get plugged,
+or something might happen that wouldn't let me."  Then his face lighted
+up as a thought came to him.  "Say, I'll cut di' cards with yu to see
+if I comes back or not."
+
+The sheriff leaned back and gazed at the cool youngster before him.
+A smile of satisfaction, partly at the self-reliance of his guest and
+partly at the novelty of his situation, spread over his face.  He
+reached for a pack of Mexican cards and laughed.  "Man! You're a cool
+one-I'll do it.  What do you call ?"
+
+"Red," answered Hopalong.
+
+The sheriff slowly raised his hand and revealed the ace of hearts.
+Hopalong leaned back and laughed, at the same time taking from his
+pocket the six extracted cartridges.  Arising and going over to the bed
+he slipped them in the chambers of the new gun and then placed the
+loaded weapon at the sheriff's elbow.
+
+"Well, I reckon I'll amble, sheriff," he said as he opened the door.
+"If yu ever sifts up my way drop in an' see me-th' boys'lI give yu a
+good time."
+
+"Thanks; I will be glad to," replied the sheriff.  "You'll take your
+pitcher to the well once too often some day, my friend.  This
+courtesy," glancing at the restored revolver, "might have cost you
+dearly."
+
+"Shoo! I did that once an' th' feller tried to use it," replied the
+cowboy as he backed through the door.  "Some people are awfully
+careless," he added. "So long-"
+
+"So long," replied the sheriff, wondering what sort of a man he had
+been entertaining.
+
+The door closed softly and soon after a joyous whoop floated in from
+the Street.  The sheriff toyed with the new gun and listened to the low
+caress of a distant guitar.
+
+"Well, don't that beat all?"  He ejaculated.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+The Advent of McAllister
+
+
+The blazing sun shone pitilessly on an arid plain which was spotted
+with dust-gray clumps of mesquite and thorny chaparral.  Basking in the
+burning sand and alkali lay several Gila monsters, which raised their
+heads and hissed with wide-open jaws as several faint, whip-like
+reports echoed flatly over the desolate plain, showing that even they
+had learned that danger was associated with such sounds.
+
+Off to the north there became visible a cloud of dust and at
+intervals something swayed in it, something that rose and fell and
+then became hidden again.  Out of that cloud came sharp, splitting
+sounds, which were faintly responded to by another and larger cloud in
+its rear.  As it came nearer and finally swept past, the Gilas, to
+their terror, saw a madly pounding horse, and it carried a man.  The
+latter turned in his saddle and raised a gun to his shoulder and the
+thunder that issued from it caused the creeping audience to throw up
+their tails in sudden panic and bury themselves out of sight in the
+sand.
+
+The horse was only a broncho, its sides covered with hideous yellow
+spots, and on its near flank was a peculiar scar, the brand.  Foam
+flecked from its crimsoned jaws and found a resting place on its sides
+and on the hairy chaps of its rider.  Sweat rolled and streamed from
+its heaving flanks and was greedily sucked up by the drought-cursed
+alkali.  Close to the rider's knee a bloody furrow ran forward and one
+of the broncho's ears was torn and limp.  The broncho was doing its
+best-it could run at that pace until it dropped dead.  Every ounce of
+strength it possessed was put forth to bring those hind hoofs well in
+front of the forward ones and to send them pushing the sand behind in
+streaming clouds.  The horse had done this same thing many times-when
+would its master learn sense?
+
+The man was typical in appearance with many of that broad land.
+Lithe, sinewy and bronzed by hard riding and hot suns, he sat in his
+Cheyenne saddle like a centaur, all his weight on the heavy, leather-
+guarded stirrups, his body rising in one magnificent straight line.  A
+bleached moustache hid the thin lips, and a gray sombrero threw a
+heavy shadow across his eyes.  Around his neck and over his open, blue
+flannel shirt lay loosely a knotted silk kerchief, and on his thighs a
+pair of open-flapped holsters swung uneasily with their ivory handled
+burdens. He turned abruptly, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired,
+then he laughed recklessly and patted his mount, which responded to
+the confident caress by lying flatter to the earth in a spurt of
+heart-breaking speed.
+
+"I'll show `em who they're trailin'. This is th' second time I've
+started for Muddy Wells, an' I'm goin' to git there, too, for all th'
+Apaches out of Hades!"
+
+To the south another cloud of dust rapidly approached and the rider
+scanned it closely, for it was directly in his path.  As he watched it
+he saw something wave and it was a sombrero! Shortly afterward a real
+cowboy yell reached his ears.  He grinned and slid another cartridge in
+the greasy, smoking barrel of the Sharp's and fired again at the cloud
+in his rear.  Some few minutes later a whooping, bunched crowd of madly
+riding cowboys thundered past him and he was recognized.
+
+"Hullo, Frenchy!" yelled the nearest one.  "Comin' back?"
+
+"Come on, McAllister!" shouted another; "we'll give `em blazes!" In
+response the straining broncho suddenly stiffened, bunched and slid on
+its haunches, wheeled and retraced its course.  The rear cloud suddenly
+scattered into many smaller ones and all swept off to the east.  The
+rescuing band overtook them and, several hours later, when seated
+around a table in Tom Lee's saloon, Muddy Wells, a count was taken of
+them, which was pleasing in its facts.
+
+"We was huntin' coyotes when we saw yu," said a smiling puncher who
+was known as Salvation Carroll chiefly because he wasn't.
+
+"Yep! They've been stalkin' Tom's chickens," supplied Waffles, the
+champion poker player of the outfit.  Tom Lee's chickens could whip
+anything of their kind for miles around and were reverenced
+accordingly.
+
+"Sho! Is that so?" Asked Frenchy with mild incredulity, such a state
+of affairs being deplorable.
+
+"She shore is!" answered Tex Le Blanc, and then, as an afterthought,
+he added, "Where'd yu hit th' War-whoops?"
+
+"`Bout four hours back.  This here's th' second time I've headed for
+this place-last time they chased me to Las Cruces."
+
+"That so?"  Asked Bigfoot Baker, a giant.  "Ain't they allus
+interferin', now?  Anyhow, they're better'n coyotes."
+
+"They was purty well heeled," suggested Tex, glancing at a bunch of
+repeating Winchesters of late model which lay stacked in a corner.
+"Charley here said he thought they was from th' way yore cayuse
+looked, didn't yu, Charley?"  Charley nodded and filled his pipe.
+
+"`Pears like a feller can't amble around much nowadays without
+havin' to fight," grumbled Lefty Allen, who usually went out of his
+way hunting up trouble.
+
+"We're goin' to th' Hills as soon as our cookie turns up,"
+volunteered Tenspot Davis, looking inquiringly at Frenchy.  "Heard any
+more news?"
+
+"Nope. Same old story-lots of gold.  Shucks, I've bit on so many of
+them rumors that they don't feaze me no more.  One man who don't know
+nothin' about prospectin' goes an' stumbles over a fortune an' those
+who know it from A to Izzard goes `round pullin' in their belts."
+
+"We don't pull in no belts-We knows just where to look, don't we,
+Tenspot?"  Remarked Tex, looking very wise.
+
+"Ya-as we do," answered Tenspot, "if yu hasn't dreamed about it, we
+do."
+
+"Yu wait; I wasn't dreamin', none whatever," assured Tex.
+
+"I saw it!"
+
+"Ya-as, I saw it too onct," replied Frenchy with sarcasm.  "Went and
+lugged fifty pound of it all th' way to th' assay office-took me two
+days! an' that there four-eyed cuss looks at it and snickers.  Then he
+takes me by di' arm an' leads me to th' window.  'See that pile, my
+friend?  That's all like yourn,' sez he.  `It's worth about one simoleon
+a ton at th' coast.  They use it for ballast.'"
+
+"Aw! But this what I saw was gold!" exploded Tex.
+
+"So was mine, for a while!" laughed Frenchy, nodding to the
+bartender for another round.
+
+"Well, we're tired of punchin' cows! Ride sixteen hours a day, year
+in an' year out, an' what do we get?  Fifty a month an' no chance to
+spend it, an' grub that'd make a coyote sniffle! I'm for a vacation,
+an' if I goes broke, why, I'll punch again!" asserted Waffles, the
+foreman, thus revealing the real purpose of the trip.
+
+"What'd yore boss say?"  Asked Frenchy.
+
+"Whoop! What didn't he say! Honest, I never thought he had it in
+him.  It was fine.  He cussed an hour frontways an' then trailed back on
+a dead gallop, with us a-laughin' fit to bust.  Then he rustles for his
+gun an' we rustles for town," answered Waffles, laughing at his
+remembrance of it.
+
+As Frenchy was about to reply his sombrero was snatched from his
+head and disappeared. If he "got mad" he was to be regarded as not
+sufficiently well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot
+water; if he took it good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit;
+but in either case he didn't get his hat without begging or fighting
+for it.  This was a recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was
+not intended as an insult.
+
+Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose.  Punching Lefty playfully
+in the ribs he passed his hands behind that person's back.  Not finding
+the lost head-gear he laughed and, tripping Lefty up, fell with him
+and, reaching up on the table for his glass, poured the contents down
+Lefty's back and arose.
+
+"Yu son-of-a-gun!" indignantly wailed that unfortunate.  "Gee, it
+feels funny," he added, grinning as he pulled the wet shirt away from
+his spine.
+
+"Well, I've got to be amblin'," said Frenchy, totally ignoring the
+loss of his hat.  "Goin' down to Buckskin," he offered, and then asked,
+"When's yore cook comin'?"
+
+"Day after to-morrow, if he don't get loaded," replied Tex.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"A one-eyed Mexican-Quiensabe Antonio."
+
+"I used to know him.  He's a heck of a cook.  Dished up th' grub one
+season when I was punchin' for th' Tin-Cup up in Montana," replied
+Frenchy.
+
+"Oh, he kin cook now, all right." replied Waffles.
+
+"That's about all he can cook.  Useter wash his knives in th' coffee
+pot an' blow on di' tins.  I chased him a mile one night for leavin'
+sand in th' skillet.  Yu can have him-I don't envy yu none whatever.
+
+"He don't sand no skillet when little Tenspot's around," assured
+that person, slapping his holster.  "Does he, Lefty?"
+
+"If he does, yu oughter be lynched," consoled Lefty.
+
+"Well, so long," remarked Frenchy, riding off to a small store,
+where he bought a cheap sombrero.
+
+Frenchy was a jack-of-all-trades, having been cow-puncher,
+prospector, proprietor of a "hotel" in Albuquerque, foreman of a
+ranch, sheriff, and at one time had played angel to a venturesome but
+poor show troupe.  Beside his versatility he was well known as the man
+who took the stage through the Sioux country when no one else
+volunteered.  He could shoot with the best, but his one pride was the
+brand of poker he handed out.  Furthermore, he had never been known to
+take an unjust advantage over any man and, on the contrary, had
+frequently voluntarily handicapped himself to make the event more
+interesting.  But he must not be classed as being hampered with self-
+restraint.
+
+His reasons for making this trip were two-fold: he wished to see
+Buck Peters, the foreman of the Bar-20 outfit, as he and Buck had
+punched cows together twenty years before and were firm friends; the
+other was that he wished to get square with Hopalong Cassidy, who had
+decisively cleaned him out the year before at poker.  Hopalong played
+either in great good luck or the contrary, while Frenchy played an
+even, consistent game and usually left off richer than when he began,
+and this decisive defeat bothered him more than he would admit, even
+to himself.
+
+The round-up season was at hand and the Bar-20 was short of ropers,
+the rumors of fresh gold discoveries in the Black Hills having drawn
+all the more restless men north.  The outfit also had a slight touch of
+the gold fever, and only their peculiar loyalty to the ranch and the
+assurance of the foreman that when the work was over he would
+accompany them, kept them from joining the rush of those who desired
+sudden and much wealth as the necessary preliminary of painting some
+cow town in all the "bang up" style such an event would call for.
+Therefore they had been given orders to secure the required
+assistance, and they intended to do so, and were prepared to kidnap,
+if necessary, for the glamour of wealth and the hilarity of the
+vacation made the hours falter in their speed.
+
+As Frenchy leaned back in his chair in Cowan's saloon, Buckskin,
+early the next morning, planning to get revenge on Hopalong and then
+to recover his sombrero, he heard a medley of yells and whoops and
+soon the door flew open before the strenuous and concentrated entry of
+a mass of twisting and kicking arms and legs, which magically found
+their respective owners and reverted to the established order of
+things.
+
+When the alkali dust had thinned he saw seven cow-punchers
+sitting on the prostrate form of another, who was earnestly engaged in
+trying to push Johnny Nelson's head out in the street with one foot as
+he voiced his lucid opinion of things in general and the seven in
+particular.  After Red Connors had been stabbed in the back several
+times by the victim's energetic elbow he ran out of the room and
+presently returned with a pleased expression and a sombrero full of
+water, his finger plugging an old bullet hole in the crown.
+
+"Is he any better, Buck?"  Anxiously inquired the man with the
+reservoir.
+
+"About a dollar's worth," replied the foreman.  "Jest put a little
+right here," he drawled as he pulled back the collar of the
+unfortunate's shirt.
+
+"Ow! wow! WOW!" wailed the recipient, heaving and straining.  The
+unengaged leg was suddenly wrested loose, and as it shot up and out
+Billy Williams, with his pessimism aroused to a blue-ribbon pitch, sat
+down forcibly in an adjacent part of the room, from where he lectured
+between gasps on the follies of mankind and the attributes of army
+mules.
+
+Red tiptoed around the squirming bunch, looking for an opening, his
+pleased expression now having added a grin.
+
+"Seems to be gittin' violent-like,"  he soliloquized, as he aimed a
+stream at Hopalong's ear, which showed for a second as Pete Wilson
+strove for a half-nelson, and he managed to include Johnny and Pete in
+his effort.
+
+Several minutes later, when the storm had subsided, the woeful crowd
+enthusiastically urged Hopalong to the bar, where he "bought."
+
+"Of all th' ornery outfits I ever saw-" began the man at the table,
+grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle he had just witnessed.
+
+"Why, hullo, Frenchy! Glad to see yu, yu old son-of-a-gun! What's
+th' news from th' Hills?"  Shouted Hopalong.
+
+"Rather locoed, an' there's a locoed gang that's headin' that way.
+Goin' up?" he asked.
+
+"Shore, after round-up.  Seen any punchers trailin' around loose?"
+
+"Ya-as," drawled Frenchy, delving into the possibilities suddenly
+opened to him and determining to utilize to the fullest extent the
+opportunity that had come to him unsought.  "There's nine over to Muddy
+Wells that yu might git if yu wants them bad enough.  They've got a
+sombrero of mine," he added deprecatingly.
+
+"Nine! Twisted Jerusalem, Buck! Nine whole cow-punchers a-pinin' for
+work," he shouted, but then added thoughtfully, "Mebby they's
+engaged," it being one of the courtesies of the land not to take
+another man's help.
+
+"Nope.  They've stampeded for th' Hills an' left their boss all
+alone," replied Frenchy, well knowing that such desertion would not,
+in the minds of the Bar-20 men, add any merits to the case of the
+distant outfit.
+
+"Th' sons-of-guns," said Hopalong, "let's go an' get `em," he
+suggested, turning to Buck, who nodded a smiling assent.
+
+"Oh, what's the hurry?"  Asked Frenchy, seeing his projected game
+slipping away into the uncertain future and happy in the thought that
+he would be avenged on the O-Bar-O outfit.
+
+"They'll be there till to-morrow noon-they's waitin' for their
+cookie, who's goin' with them."
+
+"A cook! A cook! Oh, joy, a cook!" exulted Johnny, not for one
+instant doubting Buck's ability to capture the whole outfit and seeing
+a whirl of excitement in the effort.
+
+"Anybody we knows?"  Inquired Skinny Thompson.
+
+"Shore.  Tenspot Davis, Waffles, Salvation Carroll, Bigfoot Baker,
+Charley Lane, Lefty Allen, Kid Morris, Curley Tate an' Tex Le Blanc,"
+responded Frenchy.
+
+"Umm-m.  Might as well rope a blizzard," grumbled Billy.  "Might as
+well try to git th' Seventh Cavalry.  We'll have a pious time
+corralling that bunch.  Them's th' fellows that hit that bunch of
+inquirin' Crow braves that time up in th' Bad Lands an' then said by-
+bye to th' Ninth."
+
+"Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an'
+Hopalong can sing `em to sleep," interposed Johnny, afraid that the
+expedition would fall through.
+
+"How about Curley and Tex?"  Pugnaciously asked Billy.
+
+"Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't
+think they's dangerous.  Salvation an' Tenspot are only ones who can
+shoot," stoutly maintained Johnny.
+
+"Here yu, get mum," ordered Buck to the pair.  "When this outfit goes
+after anything it generally gets it.  All in favor of kidnappin' that
+outfit signify di' same by kickin' Billy," whereupon Bill swore.
+
+"Do yu want yore hat?"  Asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.
+
+"I shore do," answered that individual.
+
+"If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu.  Fifty a month
+an' grub," offered the foreman.
+
+"O.K." replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.
+
+Buck looked at his watch.  "Seven o'clock-we ought to get there by
+five if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe.  Come on."
+
+"How are we goin' to git them?"  Asked Billy.
+
+"Yu leave that to me, son.  Hopalong an' Frenchy'll tend to that part
+of it," replied Buck, making for his horse and swinging into the
+saddle, an example which was followed by the others, including
+Frenchy.
+
+As they swung off Buck noticed the condition of Frenchy's mount and
+halted.  "Yu take that cayuse back an' get Cowan's," he ordered.
+
+"That cayuse is good for Cheyenne-she eats work, an' besides I wants
+my own," laughed Frenchy.
+
+"Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease,"
+volunteered Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him.  "Shoo! I had
+a little argument with some feather dusters- th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned
+them up."
+
+"That so?"  Asked Buck.
+
+"Yep! They sorter got into th' habit of chasin' me to Las Cruces an'
+forgot to stop."
+
+"How many'd yu get?"  Asked Lanky Smith.
+
+"Twelve.  Two got away.  I got two before th' crowd showed up-that
+makes fo'teen."
+
+"Now th' cavalry'll be huntin' yu," croaked Billy.
+
+"Hunt nothin'! They was in war-paint-think I was a target?-Think I
+was goin' to call off their shots for `em?"
+
+They relayed at the Barred-Horseshoe and went on their way at the
+same pace.  Shortly after leaving the last-named ranch Buck turned to
+Frenchy and asked, "Any of that outfit think they can play poker?"
+
+"Shore.  Waffles."
+
+"Does th' reverend Mr. Waffles think so very hard?"
+
+"He shore does."
+
+"Do th' rest of them mavericks think so too?"
+
+"They'd bet their shirts on him."
+
+At this juncture all were startled by a sudden eruption from Billy.
+"Haw! Haw! Haw!' he roared as the drift of Buck's intentions struck
+him. "Haw! Haw! Haw!"
+
+"Here, yu long-winded coyote," yelled Red, banging him over the head
+with his quirt, "If yu don't `Haw! Haw!' away from my ear I'll make it
+a Wow! Wow! What d'yu mean?  Think I am a echo cliff?  Yu slabsided
+doodle-bug, yu!"
+
+"G'way, yu crimson topknot, think my head's a hunk of quartz?  Fer a
+plugged peso I'd strew yu all over th' scenery!" shouted Billy,
+feigning anger and rubbing his head.
+
+"There ain't no scenery around here," interposed Lanky.  "This here
+be-utiful prospect is a sublime conception of th' devil."
+
+"Easy, boy! Them highfalutin' words'il give yu a cramp some day.  Yu
+talk like a newly-made sergeant," remarked Skinny.
+
+"He learned them words from the sky-pilot over at El Paso,"
+volunteered Hopalong, winking at Red.  "He used to amble down th' aisle
+afore the lights was lit so's he could get a front seat.  That was all
+hunky for a while, but every time he'd go out to irrigate, that female
+organ-wrastler would seem to call th' music off for his special
+benefit.  So in a month he'd sneak in an' freeze to a chair by th'
+door, an' after a while he'd shy like blazes every time he got within
+eye range of th' church."
+
+"Shore.  But do yu know what made him get religion all of a sudden?
+He used to hang around on di' outside after th' joint let out an'
+trail along behind di' music-slinger, lookin' like he didn't know what
+to do with his hands.  Then when he got woozy one time she up an' told
+him that she had got a nice long letter from her hubby.  Then Mr. Lanky
+hit th' trail for Santa Fe so hard that there wasn't hardly none of it
+left. I didn't see him for a whole month," supplied Red innocently.
+
+"Yore shore funny, ain't yu?" sarcastically grunted Lanky.  "Why, I
+can tell things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year."
+
+"I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them.  Yu ought
+to be ashamed of yoreself."
+
+"Yah!" snorted the aggrieved little man.  "I had business over to
+Santa Fe!"
+
+"Shore," endorsed Hopalong.  "We've all had business over to Santa
+Fe.  Why, about eight years ago I had business-"
+
+"Choke up," interposed Red.  "About eight years ago yu was washin'
+pans for cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges.  Buck used to larrup yu
+about four times a day eight years ago."
+
+To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where, red-
+faced and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.
+
+"We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang," began Billy for
+the third time.
+
+"For heaven's sake get off that trail!" replied Lanky.  "We aint
+goin' to hold `em up.  De-plomacy's th' game."
+
+Billy looked dubious and said nothing.  If he hadn't proven that he
+was as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock
+in his grumbling.
+
+"What's the latest from Abilene way?"  Asked Buck of Frenchy.
+
+"Nothin' much `cept th' barb-wire ruction," replied the recruit.
+
+"What's that?"  Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.
+
+"Why, th' settlers put up barb-wire fence so's the cattle wouldn't
+get on their farms.  That would a been all right, for there wasn't much
+of it.  But some Britishers who own a couple of big ranches out there
+got smart all of a sudden an' strung wire all along their lines.
+Punchers crossin' th' country would run plumb into a fence an' would
+have to ride a day an' a half, mebbe, afore they found th' corner.
+Well, naturally, when a man has been used to ridin' where he blame
+pleases an' as straight as he pleases he ain't goin' to chase along a
+five-foot fence to Trisco when he wants to get to Waco.  So th'
+punchers got to totin' wire-snips, an' when they runs up agin a fence
+they cuts down half a mile or so.  Sometimes they'd tie their ropes to
+a strand an' pull off a couple of miles an' then go back after th'
+rest.  Th' ranch bosses sent out men to watch th' fences an' told `em
+to shoot any festive puncher that monkeyed with th' hardware.  Well, yu
+know what happens when a puncher gets shot at."
+
+"When fences grow in Texas there'll be th' devil to pay," said Buck.
+He hated to think that some day the freedom of the range would be
+annulled, for he knew that it would be the first blow against the
+cowboys' occupation.  When a man's cattle couldn't spread out all over
+the land he wouldn't have to keep so many men.  Farms would spring up
+and the sun of the free-and-easy cowboy would slowly set.
+
+"I reckons th' cutters are classed th' same as rustlers," remarked
+Red with a gleam of temper.
+
+"By th' owners, but not by th' punchers; an' it's th' punchers that
+count," replied Frenchy.
+
+"Well, we'll give them a fight," interposed Hopalong, riding up.
+"When it gets so I can't go where I please I'll start on th' warpath.
+I won't buck the cavalry, but I'll keep it busy huntin' for me an'
+I'll have time to `tend to th' wire-fence men, too.  Why, we'll be told
+we can't tote our guns!"
+
+"They're sayin' that now," replied Frenchy.  "Up in Buffalo, Smith,
+who's now marshal, makes yu leave `em with th' bartenders."
+
+"I'd like to see any two-laigged cuss get my guns If I didn't want
+him to!" began Hopalong, indignant at the idea.
+
+"Easy, son," cautioned Buck.  "Yu would do what th' rest did because
+yu are a square man.  I'm about as hard-headed a puncher as ever
+straddled leather an' I've had to use my guns purty considerable, but
+I reckons if any decent marshal asked me to cache them in a decent
+way, why, I'd do it. An' let me brand somethin' on yore mind-I've
+heard of Smith of Buffalo, an' he's mighty nifty with his hands.  He
+don't stand off an' tell yu to unload yore lead-ranch, but he ambles
+up close an' taps yu on yore shirt; if yu makes a gunplay he naturally
+knocks yu clean across th' room an' unloads yu afore yu gets yore
+senses back. He weighs about a hundred an' eighty an' he's shore got
+sand to burn."
+
+"Yah! When I makes a gun play she plays! I'd look nice in Abilene or
+Paso or Albuquerque without my guns, wouldn't I?  Just because I totes
+them in plain sight I've got to hand `em over to some liquor-wrastler?
+I reckons not! Some hip-pocket skunk would plug me afore I could wink.
+I'd shore look nice loping around a keno layout without my guns, in
+th' same town with some cuss huntin' me, wouldn't I?  A whole lot of
+good a marshal would a done Jimmy, an' didn't Harris get his from a
+cur in th' dark?" shouted Hopalong, angered by the prospect.
+
+"We're talkin' about Buffalo, where everybody has to hang up their
+guns," replied Buck.  "An' there's th' law-"
+
+"To blazes with th' law!" whooped Hopalong in Red's ear as he
+unfastened the cinch of Red's saddle and at the same time stabbing
+that unfortunate's mount with his spurs, thereby causing a hasty
+separation of the two.  When Red had picked himself up and things had
+quieted down again the subject was changed, and several hours later
+they rode into Muddy Wells, a town with a little more excuse for its
+existence than Buckskin.  The wells were in an arid valley west of
+Guadaloupe Pass, and were not only muddy but more or less alkaline.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER. X
+
+Peace Hath its Victories
+
+
+As they neared the central group of buildings they heard a hilarious
+and assertive song which sprang from the door and windows of the main
+saloon.   It was in jig time, rollicking and boisterous, but the words
+had evidently been improvised for the occasion, as they clashed
+immediately with those which sprang to the minds of the outfit,
+although they could not be clearly distinguished.  As they approached
+nearer and finally dismounted, however, the words became recognizable
+and the visitors were at once placed in harmony with the air of jovial
+recklessness by the roaring of the verses and the stamping of the
+time.
+
+Oh we're red-hot cow-punchers playin' on our luck,
+An' there ain't a proposition that we won't buck:
+From sunrise to sunset we've ridden on the range,
+But now we're oft for a howlin' change.
+
+CHORUS
+
+Laugh a little, sing a little, all th' day;
+Play a little, drink a little-we can pay;
+Ride a little, dig a little an' rich we'll grow.
+Oh, we're that bunch from th' O-Bar-O!
+
+Oh, there was a little tenderfoot an' he had a little gun,
+An' th' gun an' him went a-trailin' up some fun.
+They ambles up to Santa Fe' to find a quiet game,
+An' now they're planted with some more of th' same!
+
+As Hopalong, followed by the others, pushed open the door and
+entered he took up the chorus with all the power of Texan lungs and
+even Billy joined in.  The sight that met their eyes was typical of the
+men and the mood and the place. Leaning along the walls, lounging on
+the table and straddling chairs with their forearms crossed on the
+backs were nine cowboys, ranging from old twenty to young fifty in
+years, and all were shouting the song and keeping time with their
+hands and feet.
+
+In the center of the room was a large man dancing a
+fair buck-and-wing to the time so uproariously set by his companions.
+Hatless, neck-kerchief loose, holsters flapping, chaps rippling out
+and close, spurs clinking and perspiration streaming from his tanned
+face, danced Bigfoot Baker as though his life depended on speed and
+noise.  Bottles shook and the air was fogged with smoke and dust.
+Suddenly, his belt slipping and letting his chaps fall around his
+ankles, he tripped and sat down heavily.  Gasping for breath, he held
+out his hand and received a huge plug of tobacco, for Bigfoot had won
+a contest.
+
+Shouts of greeting were hurled at the newcomers and many questions
+were fired at them regarding "th' latest from th' Hills."  Waffles made
+a rush for Hopalong, but fell over Big-foot's feet and all three were
+piled up in a heap.  All were beaming with good nature, for they were
+as so many school boys playing truant.  Prosaic cow-punching was
+relegated to the rear and they looked eagerly forward to their several
+missions.  Frenchy told of the barb-wire fence war and of the new regu-
+lations of "Smith of Buffalo" regarding cow-punchers' guns, and from
+the caustic remarks explosively given it was plain to be seen what a
+wire fence could expect, should one be met with, and there were many
+imaginary Smiths put hors de combat.
+
+Kid Morris, after vainly trying to slip a blue-bottle fly inside of
+Hopalong's shirt, gave it up and slammed his hand on Hopalong's back
+instead, crying: "Well, I'll be doggoned if here ain't Hopalong! How's
+th' missus an' th' deacon an' all th' folks to hum?  I hears yu an'
+Frenchy's reg'lar poker fiends!"
+
+"Oh, we plays onct in a while, but we don't want none of yore dust.
+Yu'll shore need it all afore th' Hills get through with yu,"
+laughingly replied Hopalong.
+
+"Oh, yore shore kind! But I was a sort of reckonin' that we needs
+some more. Perfesser P. D. Q. Waffles is our poker man an' he shore
+can clean out anything I ever saw.  Mebbe yu fellers feel reckless-like
+an' would like to make a pool," he cried, addressing the outfit of the
+Bar-20, "an' back yore boss of th' full house agin ourn?"
+
+Red turned slowly around and took a full minute in which to size the
+Kid up.  Then he snorted and turned his back again.
+
+The Kid stared at him in outraged dignity.  "Well, what say!" he
+softly murmured.  Then he leaped forward and walloped Red on the back.
+"Hey, yore royal highness!" he shouted.  "Yu-yu-yu-oh, hang it-yu! Yu
+slab-sided, ring-boned, saddle-galled shade of a coyote, do yu think
+I'm only meanderin' in th' misty vales of-of-"
+
+Suggestions intruded from various sources.  "Hades?" offered
+Hopalong. "Cheyenne?"  Murmured Johnny.  "Misty mistiness of misty?"
+tentatively supplied Waffles.
+
+Red turned around again.  "Better come up an' have somethin'," he
+sympathetically invited, wiping away an imaginary tear.
+
+"An' he's so young!" sobbed Frenchy.
+
+"An' so fair!" wailed Tex.
+
+"An' so ornery!" howled Lefty, throwing his arms around the
+discomfited youngster.  Other arms went around him, and out of the
+sobbing mob could be heard earnest and heart-felt cussing,
+interspersed with imperative commands, which were gradually obeyed.
+
+The Kid straightened up his wearing apparel.  "Come on, yu locoed-"
+
+"Angels?"  Queried Charley Lane, interrupting him.  "Sweet  things?"
+breathed Hopalong in hopeful expectancy.
+
+"Oh, blast it!" yelled the Kid as he ran out into the street to
+escape the persecution.
+
+"Good Kid, all right," remarked Waffles.  "He'll go around an' lick
+some Mexican an' come back sweet as honey."
+
+"Did somebody say poker?"  Asked Bigfoot, digressing from the Kid.
+
+"Oh, yu fellows don't want no poker.  Of course yu don't. Poker's
+mighty uncertain," replied Red.
+
+"Yah!" exclaimed Tex Le Blanc, pushing forward.  "I'll just bet yu to
+a standstill that Waffles an' Salvation'll round up all th' festive
+simoleons yu can get together! An' I'll throw in Frenchy's hat as an
+inducement."
+
+"Well, if yore shore set on it make her a pool," replied Red, "an'
+th' winners divide with their outfit. Here's a starter," he added,
+tossing a buckskin bag on the table.  "Come on, pile `em up."
+
+The crowd divided as the players seated themselves at the table, the
+O-Bar-O crowd grouping themselves behind their representatives; the
+Bar-20 behind theirs.  A deck of cards was brought and the game was on.
+
+Red, true to his nature, leaned back in a corner, where, hands on
+hips, he awaited any hostile demonstration on the part of the O-Bar-O;
+then, suddenly remembering, he looked half ashamed of his warlike
+position and became a peaceful citizen again.  Buck leaned with his
+broad back against the bar, talking over his shoulder to the
+bartender, but watching Tenspot Davis, who was assiduously engaged in
+juggling a handful of Mexican dollars.
+
+Up by the door Bigfoot Baker, elated at winning the buck-and-wing
+ contest, was endeavoring to learn a new step, while his late rival was
+drowning his defeat at Buck's elbow.  Lefty Allen was softly singing a
+ Mexican love song, humming when the words would not come.
+ At the table could be heard low-spoken card terms and good-natured banter,
+ interspersed with the clink of gold and silver and the soft pat-pat of the
+ onlookers' feet unconsciously keeping time to Lefty's song.  Notwithstanding
+the grim assertiveness of belts full of .45's and the peeping handles of long-
+barreled Colts, set off with picturesque chaps, sombreros and tinkling
+spurs, the scene was one of peaceful content and good-fellowship.
+
+"Ugh!" grunted Johnny, walking over to Red and informing that person
+that he, Red, was a worm-eaten prune and that for half a wink he,
+Johnny, would prove it.  Red grabbed him by the seat of his corduroys
+and the collar of his shirt and helped him outside, where they
+strolled about, taking pot shots at whatever their fancy suggested.
+
+Down the street in a cloud of dust rumbled the Las Cruces-El Paso
+stage and the two punchers went up to meet it.  Raw furrows showed in
+the woodwork, one mule was missing and the driver and guard wore fresh
+bandages.  A tired tenderfoot leaped out with a sigh of relief and
+hunted for his baggage, which he found to be generously perforated.
+Swearing at the God-forsaken land where a man had to fight highwaymen
+and Indians inside of half a day he grumblingly lugged his valise
+toward a forbidding-looking shack which was called a hotel.
+
+The driver released his teams and then turned to Red.  "Hullo, old
+hoss, how's th' gang?" he asked genially.  "We've had a heck of a time
+this yere trip," he went on without waiting for Red to reply.  "Five
+miles out of Las Cruces we stood off a son-of-a-gun that wanted th'
+dude's wealth.  Then just this side of the San Andre foothills we runs
+into a bunch of young bucks who turned us off this yere way an' gave
+us a runnin' fight purty near all th' way.  I'm a whole lot farther
+from Paso now than I was when I started, an seem as I lost a jack I'll
+be some time gittin' there.  Yu don't happen to sabe a jack I can
+borrow, do yu?"
+
+"I don't know about no jack, but I'll rope yu a bronch," offered
+Red, winking at Johnny.
+
+"I'll pull her myself before I'll put dynamite in di' traces,"
+replied the driver.  "Yu fellers might amble back a ways with me-them
+buddin' warriors'll be layin' for me."
+
+"We shore will," responded Johnny eagerly.  "There's nine of us now
+an' there'll be nine more an' a cook to-morrow, mebby."
+
+"Gosh, yu grows some," replied the guard.  "Eighteen'll be a plenty
+for them glory hunters."
+
+"We won't be able to," contradicted Red, "for things are peculiar."
+
+At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the tenderfoot,
+who sported a new and cheap sombrero and also a belt and holster
+complete.
+
+"Will you gentlemen join me?"  He asked, turning to Red arid nodding
+at the saloon.  "I am very dry and much averse to drinking alone."
+
+"Why, shore," responded Red heartily, wishing to put the stranger at
+ease.
+
+The game was running about even as they entered and Lefty Allen was
+singing "The Insult," the rich tenor softening the harshness of the
+surroundings.
+
+I've swum th' Colorado where she's almost lost to view, I've braced
+     th' Jaro layouts in Cheyenne;
+I've fought for muddy water with a howlin' bunch of Sioux, An'
+     swallowed hot tamales, an' cayenne.
+
+I've rid a pitchin' broncho `till th' sky was underneath, I've
+     tackled every desert in th' land;
+I've sampled XXXX whiskey `till I couldn't hardly see, An' dallied
+     with th' quicksands of the Grande.
+
+I've argued with th' marshals of a half-a-dozen burgs, I've been
+     dragged free an' fancy by a cow;
+I've had three years' campaignin' with th' fightin', bitin' Ninth,
+     An' never lost my temper `till right now.
+
+I've had the yaller fever an I've been shot full of holes, I've
+     grabbed an army mule plumb by its tail;
+I've never been so snortin', really highfalutin' mad As when y'u up
+     an' hands me ginger ale!
+
+Hopalong laughed joyously at a remark made by Waffles and the
+stranger glanced quickly at him.  His merry, boyish face, underlined by
+a jaw showing great firmness and set with an expression of
+aggressive self-reliance, impressed the stranger and he remarked to
+Red, who lounged lazily near him, that he was surprised to see such a
+face on so young a man and he asked who the player was.
+
+"Oh, his name's Hopalong Cassidy," answered Red.  "He's di' cuss that
+raised that ruction down in Mexico last spring.  Rode his cayuse in a
+saloon and played with the loungers and had to shoot one before he got
+out.  When he did get out he had to fight a whole bunch of Mexicans an'
+even potted their marshal, who had di' drop on him.  Then he returned
+and visited the marshal about a month later, took his gun away from
+him an' then cut th' cards to see if he was a prisoner or not.  He's a
+shore funny cuss."
+
+The tenderfoot gasped his amazement. "Are you not fooling with me?"
+He asked.
+
+"Tell him yu came after that five hundred dollars reward and see,"
+answered Red goodnaturedly.
+
+"Holy smoke!" shouted Waffles as Hopalong won his sixth consecutive
+pot.  "Did yu ever see such luck?"  Frenchy grinned and some time later
+raked in his third. Salvation then staked his last cent against
+Hopalong's flush and dropped out.
+
+Tenspot flipped to Waffles the money he had been juggling and Lefty
+searched his clothes for wealth.  Buck, still leaning against the bar,
+grinned and winked at Johnny, who was pouring hair-raising tales into
+the receptive ears of the stranger.   Thereupon Johnny confided to his
+newly found acquaintance the facts about the game, nearly causing that
+person to explode with delight.
+
+Waffles pushed back his chair, stood up and stretched.  At the finish
+of a yawn he grinned at his late adversary.  "I'm all in, yu old son-
+of-a-gun.  Yu shore can play draw. I'm goin' to try yu again some time.
+I was beat fair an' square an' I ain't got no kick comin', none
+whatever," he remarked, as he shook hands with Hopalong.
+
+"`Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed the Kid as he
+sauntered in.  One cheek was slightly swollen and his clothes shed dust
+at every step.  "Who wins?" he inquired, not having heard Waffles.
+
+"They did, blast it!" exploded Bigfoot.
+
+One of the Kid's peculiarities was revealed in the unreasoning and
+hasty conclusions he arrived at.  From no desire to imply unfairness,
+but rather because of his bitterness against failure of any kind and
+his loyalty to Waffles, came his next words:
+
+"Mebby they skinned yu."
+
+Like a flash Waffles sprang before him, his hand held up, palm out.
+"He don't mean nothin'-he's only a ignorant kid!" he cried.
+
+Buck smiled and wrested the Colt from Johnny's ever-ready hand.
+"Here's another," he said. Red laughed softly and rolled Johnny on the
+floor.  "Yu jackass," he whispered, "don't yu know better'n to make a
+gun-play when we needs them all ?"
+
+"What are we goin' to do?"  Asked Tex, glancing at the bulging
+pockets of Hopalong's chaps.
+
+"We're goin' to punch cows again, that's what we're to do," answered
+Bigfoot dismally.
+
+"An' whose are we goin' to punch?  We can't go back to the old man,"
+grumbled Tex.
+
+Salvation looked askance at Buck and then at the others.  "Mebby," he
+began, "Mebby we kin git a job on th' Bar-20." Then turning to Buck
+again he bluntly asked, "Are yu short of punchers?"
+
+                                                                      "Well, I might use some," answered the
+foreman, hesitating.  "But I
+ain't got only one cook, an'-"
+
+"We'll git yu th' cook all O.K.," interrupted Charley Lane
+vehemently.  "Hi, yu cook!" he shouted, "amble in here an' git a rustle
+on!"
+
+There was no reply, and after waiting for a minute he and Waffles
+went into the rear room, from which there immediately issued great
+chunks of profanity and noise.  They returned looking pugnacious and
+disgusted, with a wildly fighting man who was more full of liquor than
+was the bottle which he belligerently waved.
+
+"This here animated distillery what yu sees is our cook," said
+Waffles.  "We eats his grub, nobody else.  If he gits drunk that's our
+funeral; but he won't get drunk! If yu wants us to punch for yu say so
+an' we does; if yu don't, we don't."
+
+"Well," replied Buck thoughtfully, "mebby I can use yu."  Then with a
+burst of recklessness he added, "Yes, if I lose my job! But yu might
+sober that Mexican up if yu let him fall in th' horse trough."
+
+As the procession wended its way on its mission of wet charity,
+carrying the cook in any manner at all, Frenchy waved his long lost
+sombrero at Buck, who stood in the door, and shouted, "Yu old son-of-
+a-gun, I'm proud to know yu!"
+
+Buck smiled and snapped his watch shut "Time to amble," he said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Holding the Claim
+
+
+"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed Waffles, sinking the
+branding-iron in the flank of a calf.  The scene was one of great
+activity and hilarity.  Several fires were burning near the huge corral
+and in them half a dozen irons were getting hot.  Three calves were
+being held down for the brand of the "Bar-20" and two more were being
+dragged up on their sides by the ropes of the cowboys, the proud cow-
+ponies showing off their accomplishments at the expense of the calves'
+feelings.  In the corral the dust arose in steady clouds as calf after
+calf was "cut out" by the ropers and dragged out to get "tagged."
+Angry cows fought valiantly for their terrorized offspring, but always
+to no avail, for the hated rope of some perspiring and dust-grimed
+rider sent them crashing to earth.
+Over the plain were herds of cattle and groups of madly riding cowboys,
+ and two cook wagons were stalled a short distance from the corral.
+The round-up of the Bar-20 was taking place, and each of the two
+ outfits tried to outdo the other and each individual strove for a prize.
+The man who cut out and dragged to the fire the most calves in three days
+ could leave for the Black Hills at the expiration of that time, the rest to
+ follow as soon as they could.
+
+In this contest Hopalong Cassidy led his nearest rival, Red Connors,
+both of whom were Bar-2o men, by twenty cut-outs, and there remained
+but half an hour more in which to compete.  As Red disappeared into the
+sea of tossing horns Hopalong dashed out with a whoop.
+
+ "Hi, yu trellis-built rack of bones, come along there! Whoop!" he
+yelled, turning the prisoner over to the squad by the fire.
+
+"Chalk up this here insignificant wart of cross-eyed perversity: an'
+how many?"  He called as he galloped back to the corral.
+
+"One ninety-eight," announced Buck, blowing the sand from the tally
+sheet.  "That's shore goin' some," he remarked to himself.
+
+When the calf sprang up it was filled with terror, rage and pain,
+and charged at Billy from the rear as that pessimistic soul was
+leaning over and poking his finger at a somber horned-toad.  "Wow!" he
+yelled as his feet took huge steps up in the air, each one strictly on
+its own course.  "Woof!" he grunted in the hot sand as he arose on his
+hands and knees and spat alkali.
+
+"What's s'matter?"  He asked dazedly of Johnny Nelson.  "Ain't it
+funny!" he yelled sarcastically as he beheld Johnny holding his sides
+with laughter.  "Ain't it funny!" he repeated belligerently.  "Of course
+that four-laigged, knock-kneed, wobblin' son-of-a-Piute had to cut me
+out.  They wasn't nobody in sight but Billy! Why didn't yu say he was
+comin'?  Think I can see four ways to once?  Why didn't-" At this point
+Red cantered up with a calf, and by a quick maneuver, drew the taut
+rope against the rear of Billy's knees, causing that unfortunate to
+sit down heavily.  As he arose choking with broken-winded profanity Red
+dragged the animal to the fire, and Billy forgot his grievances in the
+press of labor.
+
+"How many, Buck?"  Asked Red.
+
+"One-eighty."
+
+"How does she stand?"
+
+"Yore eighteen to th' bad," replied the foreman.  "Th' son-of-a-gun!"
+marveled Red, riding off.
+
+Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the
+corner eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
+
+"Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow," he
+announced as he turned it over to the branding man.  Buck made a tally
+in a separate column and released the animal.  "Hullo, Red! Workin'?"
+Asked Hopalong of his rival.
+
+"Some, yu little cuss," answered Red with all the good nature in the
+world.  Hopalong was his particular "side partner," and he could lose
+to him with the best of feelings.
+
+"Yu looks so nice an' cool, an' clean, I didn't know," responded
+Hopalong, eyeing a streak of sweat and dust which ran from Red's eyes
+to his chin and then on down his neck.
+
+"What yu been doin'? Plowin' with yore nose?"  Returned Red, smiling
+blandly at his friend's appearance.
+
+"Yah!" snorted Hopalong, wheeling toward the corral.  "Come on, yu
+pie-eatin' doodle-bug; I'll beat yu to th' gate!"
+
+The two ponies sent showers of sand all over Billy, who eyed them in
+pugnacious disgust.  "Of all th' locoed imps that ever made life
+miserable fer a man, them's th' worst! Is there any piece of fool
+nonsense they hain't harnessed me with?"  He beseeched of Buck.  "Is
+there anything they hain't done to me?  They hides my liquor; they
+stuffs th' sweat band of my hat with rope; they ties up my pants; they
+puts water in.  My boots an' toads in my bunk-ain't they never goin' to
+get sane?"
+
+"Oh, they're only kids-they can't help it," offered Buck.  "Didn't
+they hobble my cayuse when I was on him an' near bust my neck?"
+
+Hopalong interrupted the conversation by driving up another calf,
+and Buck, glancing at his watch, declared the contest at an end.
+
+"Yu wins," he remarked to the newcomer.  "An' now yu get scarce or
+Billy will shore straddle yore nerves.  He said as how he was goin' to
+get square on yu to-night."
+
+"I didn't, neither, Hoppy!" earnestly contradicted Billy, who bad
+visions of a night spent in torment as a reprisal for such a threat.
+"Honest I didn't, did I, Johnny?"  He asked appealingly.
+
+"Yu shore did," lied Johnny, winking at Red, who had just ridden up.
+
+"I don't know what yore talkin' about, but yu shore did," replied
+Red.
+
+"If yu did," grinned Hopalong, "I'll shore make yu hard to find.
+Come on, fellows," he said; "grub's ready.  Where's Frenchy?"
+
+"Over chewin' th' rag with Waffles about his hat-he's lost it
+again," answered Red.  "He needs a guardian fer that bonnet.  Th' Kid
+an' Salvation has jammed it in th' corral fence an' Waffles has to
+stand fer it."
+
+"Let's put it in th' grub wagon an see him cuss cookie," suggested
+Hopalong.
+
+"Shore," indorsed Johnny; Cookie'll feed him bum grub for a week to
+get square.
+
+Hopalong and Johnny ambled over to the corral and after some trouble
+located the missing sombrero, which they carried to the grub wagon and
+hid in the flour barrel.  Then they went over by the excited owner and
+dropped a few remarks about how strange the cook was acting and how he
+was watching Frenchy.
+
+Frenchy jumped at the bait and tore over to the wagon, where he and
+the cook spent some time in mutual recrimination.  Hopalong nosed
+around and finally dug up the hat, white as new-fallen snow.
+
+"Here's a hat-found it in th' dough barrel," he announced, handing
+it over to Frenchy, who received it in open-mouthed stupefaction.
+
+"Yu pie-makin' pirate! Yu didn't know where my lid was, did yu! Yu
+cross-eyed lump of hypocrisy!" yelled Frenchy, dusting off the flour
+with one full-armed swing on the cook's face, driving it into that
+unfortunate's nose and eyes and mouth.  "Yu white-washed Chink, yu-rub
+yore face with water an' yu've got pancakes."
+
+"Hey! What you doin'!" yelled the cook, kicking the spot where he had
+last seen Frenchy.  "Don't yu know better'n that!"
+
+"Yu live close to yoreself or I'll throw yu so high th' sun'll duck,"
+replied Frenchy, a smile illuminating his face.
+
+"Hey, cookie," remarked Hopalong confidentially, "I know who put up
+this joke on yu.  Yu ask Billy who hid th' hat," suggested the tease.
+"Here he comes now-see how queer he looks."
+
+"Th' mournful Piute," ejaculated the cook.  "I'll shore make him wish
+he'd kept on his own trail.  I'll flavor his slush [coffee] with year-
+old dish-rags!"
+
+At this juncture Billy ambled up, keeping his weather eye peeled for
+trouble.  "Who's a dish-rag?"  He queried.  The cook mumbled something
+about crazy hens not knowing when to quit cackling and climbed up in
+his wagon.  And that night Billy swore off drinking coffee.
+
+When the dawn of the next day broke, Hopalong was riding toward the
+Black Hills, leaving Billy to untie himself as best he might.
+
+The trip was uneventful and several weeks later he entered Red Dog,
+a rambling shanty town, one of those western mushrooms that sprang up
+in a night.  He took up his stand at the Miner's Rest, and finally
+secured six claims at the cost of nine hundred hard-earned dollars, a
+fund subscribed by the outfits, as it was to be a partnership affair.
+
+He rode out to a staked-off piece of hillside and surveyed his
+purchase, which consisted of a patch of ground, six holes, six piles
+of dirt and a log hut.  The holes showed that the claims bad been tried
+and found wanting.
+
+He dumped his pack of tools and provisions, which he had bought on
+the way up, and lugged them into the cabin.  After satisfying his
+curiosity he went outside and sat down for a smoke, figuring up in his
+mind how much gold he could carry on a horse.  Then, as he realized
+that he could get a pack mule to carry the surplus, he became aware of
+a strange presence near at hand and looked up into the muzzle of a
+Sharp's rifle.  He grasped the situation in a flash and calmly blew
+several heavy smoke rings around the frowning barrel.
+
+"Well?"  He asked slowly.
+
+"Nice day, stranger," replied the man with the rifle, "but don't yu
+reckon yu've made a mistake?"
+
+Hopalong glanced at the number burned on a near-by stake and
+carelessly blew another smoke ring.  He was waiting for the gun to
+waver.
+
+"No, I reckons not," he answered. "Why?"
+
+"Well, I'll jest tell yu since yu asks.  This yere claim's mine an'
+I'm a reg'lar terror, I am.  That's why; an' seein' as it is, yu better
+amble some."
+
+Hopalong glanced down the street and saw an interested group
+watching him, which only added to his rage for being in such a
+position.  Then he started to say something, faltered and stared with
+horror at a point several feet behind his opponent.  The "terror"
+sprang to one side in response to Hop-along's expression, as if
+fearing that a snake or some such danger threatened him.  As he
+alighted in his new position he fell forward and Hopalong slid a
+smoking Colt in its holster.
+
+Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim.
+Hopalong reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle,
+with which he covered their advance.
+
+"Anything yu want?" he shouted savagely.
+
+The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two
+others, but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a
+move that would screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a
+warning shout.  Then the two held up their hands and advanced.
+
+"We wants to git Dan," called out one of them, nodding at the
+prostrate figure.
+
+"Come ahead," replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
+
+
+They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those
+whom they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who
+only smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a
+siege, should one come. He had one hundred rounds of ammunition and
+provisions enough for two weeks, with the assurance of reinforcements
+long before that time would expire.  He cut several rough loopholes and
+laid out his weapons for quick handling.  He knew that he could stop
+any advance during the day and planned only for night attacks.  How
+long he could go without sleep did not bother him, because he gave it
+no thought, as he was accustomed to short naps and could awaken at
+will or at the slightest sound.
+
+As dusk merged into dark he crept forth and collected several
+handfuls of dry twigs, which he scattered around the hut, as the
+cracking of these would warn him of an approach.  Then he went in and
+went to sleep.
+
+He awoke at daylight after a good night's rest, and feasted on
+canned beans and peaches.  Then he tossed the cans out of the door and
+shoved his hat out.  Receiving no response he walked out and surveyed
+the town at his feet.  A sheepish grin spread over his face as he
+realized that there was no danger.  Several red-shirted men passed by
+him on their way to town, and one, a grizzled veteran of many gold
+camps, stopped and sauntered up to him.
+
+"Mornin'," said Hopalong.
+
+"Mornin'," replied the stranger.  "I thought I'd drop in an' say that
+I saw that gun-play of yourn yesterday.  Yu ain't got no reason to look
+fer a rush.  This camp is half white men an' half bullies, an' th'
+white men won't stand fer no play like that.  Them fellers that jest
+passed are neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs
+them.  But yu wants to look out fer th' joints in th' town.  Guess this
+business is out of yore line," he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
+
+"She shore is, but I'm here to stay.  Got tired of punchin' an'
+reckoned I'd get rich."  Here he smiled and glanced at the hole.
+"How're yu makin' out?"  He asked.
+
+"`Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's
+so high.  Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents."
+
+Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet.  "Any
+marshal in this burg?"
+
+"Yep.  But he's one of th' gang.  No good, an' drunk half th' time an'
+half drunk th' rest.  Better come down an' have something," invited the
+miner.
+
+"I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door,"
+replied the puncher.
+
+"Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till
+yu gits back.  He can hold her all right.  Hey, Jake!" he called to a
+man who was some hundred paces distant; "Come down here an' keep house
+till we gits back, will yu?"
+
+The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and
+his newly found friend started for the town.
+
+They entered the "Miner's Rest" and Hopalong fixed the room in his
+mind with one swift glance.  Three men-and they looked like the crowd
+he had stopped before-were playing poker at a table near the window.
+Hopalong leaned with his back to the bar and talked, with the players
+always in sight.
+
+Soon the door opened and a bewhiskered, heavy-set man tramped in,
+and walking up to Hopalong, looked him over.
+
+"Huh," he sneered, "Yu are th' gent with th' festive guns that
+plugged Dan, ain't yu?"
+
+Hopalong looked at him in the eyes and quietly replied:
+
+"An' who th' deuce are yu?"
+
+The stranger's eyes blazed and his face wrinkled with rage as he
+aggressively shoved his jaw close to Hopalong's face.
+
+"Yu runt, I'm a better man than yu even if yu do wear hair pants,"
+referring to Hopalong's chaps.  "Yu cow-wrastlers make me tired, an'
+I'm goin' to show yu that this town is too good for you.  Yu can say it
+right now that yu are a ornery, game-leg-"
+
+Hopalong smashed his insulter squarely between the eyes with all the
+power of his sinewy body behind the blow, knocking him in a heap under
+the table.  Then he quickly glanced at the card players and saw a
+hostile movement.  His gun was out in a flash and he covered the trio
+as he walked up to them.  Never in all his life had he felt such a
+desire to kill.  His eyes were diamond points of accumulated fury, and
+those whom he faced quailed before him.
+
+"Yu scum! Draw, please draw! Pull yore guns an' gimme my chance!
+Three to one, an' I'll lay my guns here," he said, placing them on the
+bar and removing his hands.  "'Nearer My God to Thee' is purty
+appropriate fer yu just now! Yu seem to be a-scared of yore own guns.
+Git down on yore dirty knees an' say good an' loud that yu eats dirt!
+Shout out that yu are too currish to live with decent men," he said,
+even-toned and distinct, his voice vibrant with passion as he took up
+his Colts.  "Get down!" he repeated, shoving the weapons forward and
+pulling back the hammers.
+
+The trio glanced at each other, and all three dropped to their knees
+and repeated in venomous hatred the words Hopalong said for them.
+
+"Now git! An' if I sees yu when I leaves I'll send yu after yore
+friend. I'll shoot on sight now.  Git!" He escorted them to the door
+and kicked the last one out.
+
+His miner friend still leaned against the bar and looked his
+approval.
+
+"Well done, youngster! But yu wants to look out-that man," pointing
+to the now groping victim of Hopalong's blow, "is th' marshal of this
+town.  He or his pals will get yu if yu don't watch th' corners."
+
+Hopalong walked over to the marshal, jerked him to his feet and
+slammed him against the bar.  Then he tore the cheap badge from its
+place and threw it on the floor.  Reaching down, he drew the marshal's
+revolver from its holster and shoved it in its owner's hand.
+
+"Yore th' marshal of this place an' it's too good for me, but yore
+gain' to pick up that tin lie," pointing at the badge, "an' yore goin'
+to do it right now.  Then yore gain' to get kicked out of that door,
+an' if yu stops runnin' while I can see yu I'll fill yu so full of
+holes yu'll catch cold.  Yore a sumptious marshal, yu are! Yore th'
+snortingest ki-yi that ever stuck its tail atween its laigs, yu are.
+Yu pop-eyed wall flower, yu wants to peep to yoreself or some
+papoose'll slide yu over th' Divide so fast yu won't have time to
+grease yore pants.  Pick up that license-tag an' let me see you
+perculate so lively that yore back'll look like a ten-cent piece in
+five seconds. Flit!"
+
+The marshal, dazed and bewildered, stooped and fumbled for the
+badge.  Then he stood up and glanced at the gun in his hand and at the
+eager man before him.  He slid the weapon in his belt and drew his hand
+across his fast-closing eyes.  Cursing streaks of profanity, he
+staggered to the door and landed in a heap in the street from the
+force of Hopalong's kick.  Struggling to his feet, he ran unsteadily
+down the block and disappeared around a corner.
+
+The bartender, cool and unperturbed, pushed out three glasses on his
+treat: "I've seen yu afore, up in Cheyenne-'member?  How's yore friend
+Red?"  He asked as he filled the glasses with the best the house
+afforded.
+
+"Well, shore `nuff! Glad to see yu, Jimmy! What yu doin' away off
+here?"  Asked Hopalong, beginning to feel at home.
+
+"Oh, jest filterin' round like.  I'm awful glad to see yu-this yere
+wart of a town needs siftin' out.  It was only last week I was wishin'
+one of yore bunch `ud show up-that ornament yu jest buffaloed shore
+raised th' devil in here, an' I wished I had somebody to prospect his
+anatomy for a lead mine.  But he's got a tough gang circulating with
+him. Ever hear of Dutch Shannon or Blinky Neary? They's with him."
+
+"Dutch Shannon?  Nope," he replied.
+
+"Bad eggs, an' not a-carin' how they gits square.  Th' feller yu'
+salted yesterday was a bosom friend of th' marshal's, an' he passed in
+his chips last night."
+
+"So?"
+
+"Yep.  Bought a bottle of ready-made nerve an' went to his own
+funeral.  Aristotle Smith was lookin' fer him up in Cheyenne last year.
+Aristotle said he'd give a century fer five minutes' palaver with him,
+but he shied th' town an' didn't come back.  Yu know Aristotle, don't
+yu? He's th' geezer that made fame up to Poison Knob three years ago.
+He used to go to town ridin' astride a log on th' lumber flume.  Made
+four miles in six minutes with th' promise of a ruction when he
+stopped.  Once when he was loaded he tried to ride back th' same way he
+came, an' th' first thing he knowed he was three miles farther from
+his supper an' a-slippin' down that valley like he wanted to go some-
+where.  He swum out at Potter's Dam an' it took him a day to walk back.
+But he didn't make that play again, because he was
+frequently sober, an' when he wasn't he'd only stand off an' swear at
+th' slide."
+
+"That's Aristotle, all hunk.  He's th' chap that used to play
+checkers with Deacon Rawlins.  They used empty an' loaded shells for
+men, an' when they got a king they'd lay one on its side.  Sometimes
+they'd jar th' board an' they'd all be kings an' then they'd have a
+cussin' match," replied Hopalong, once more restored to good humor.
+
+"Why," responded Jimmy, "he counted his wealth over twice by mistake
+an' shore raised a howl when he went to blow it- thought he's been
+robbed, an' laid behind th' houses fer a week lookin' fer th' feller
+that done it."
+
+"I've heard of that cuss-he shore was th' limit.  What become of
+him?"  Asked the miner.
+
+"He ambled up to Laramie an' stuck his head in th' window of that
+joint by th' plaza an' hollered `Fire,' an' they did.  He was shore a
+good feller, all th' same," answered the bartender.
+Hopalong laughed and started for the door.  Turning around he looked
+at his miner friend and asked: "Comin' along? I'm goin' back now."
+
+"Nope.  Reckon I'll hit th' tiger a whirl.  I'll stop in when I
+passes."
+
+"All right. So long," replied Hopalong, slipping out of the door and
+watching for trouble.  There was no opposition shown him, and he
+arrived at his claim to find Jake in a heated argument with another of
+the gang.
+
+"Here he comes now," he said as Hopalong walked up.  "Tell him what
+yu said to me."
+
+"I said yu made a mistake," said the other, turning to the cowboy in
+a half apologetic manner.
+
+"An' what else?"  Insisted Jake.
+
+"Why, ain't that all?"  Asked the claim-jumper's friend in feigned
+surprise, wishing that he had kept quiet.
+
+"Well I reckons it is if yu can't back up yore words," responded
+Jake in open contempt.
+
+Hopalong grabbed the intruder by the collar of his shirt and hauled
+him off the claim.  "Yu keep off this, understand?  I just kicked yore
+marshal out in th' street, an' I'll pay yu th' next call. If yu
+rambles in range of my guns yu'll shore get in th' way of a slug.  Yu
+an' yore gang wants to browse on th' far side of th' range or yu'll
+miss a sunrise some mornin'.  Scoot!"
+
+Hopalong turned to his companion and smiled.  "What'd he say?"  He
+asked genially.
+
+"Oh, he jest shot off his mouth a little.  They's all no good.  I've
+collided with lots of them all over this country.  They can't face a
+good man an' keep their nerve.  What'd yu say to th' marshal?"
+
+"I told him what he was an' threw him outen th' street," replied
+Hopalong.  "In about two weeks we'll have a new marshal an' he'll shore
+be a dandy."
+
+"Yes?  Why don't yu take th' job yoreself?  We're with yu."
+
+"Better man comin'.  Ever hear of Buck Peters or Red Connors of th'
+Bar-20, Texas?"
+
+"Buck Peters?  Seems to me I have.  Did he punch fer th' Tin-Cup up in
+Montana, `bout twenty years back?"
+
+"Shore! Him and Frenchy McAllister punched all over that country an'
+they used to paint Cheyenne, too," replied Hopalong, eagerly.
+
+"I knows him, then.  I used to know Frenchy, too.  Are they comin' up
+here?"
+
+"Yes," responded Hopalong, struggling with another can while waiting
+for the fire to catch up.  "Better have some grub with me-don't like to
+eat alone," invited the cowboy, the reaction of his late rage swinging
+him to the other extreme.
+
+When their tobacco had got well started at the close of the meal and
+content had taken possession of them Hopalong laughed quietly and
+finally spoke:
+
+"Did yu ever know Aristotle Smith when yu was up in Montana?"
+
+"Did I! Well, me an' Aristotle prospected all through that country
+till he got so locoed I had to watch him fer fear he'd blow us both
+up.  He greased th' fryin' pan with dynamite one night, an' we shore
+had to eat jerked meat an' canned stuff all th' rest of that trip.
+What made yu ask?  Is he comin' up too?"
+
+"No, I reckons not.  Jimmy, th' bartender, said that he cashed in up
+at Laramie.  Wasn't he th' cuss that built that boat out there on th'
+Arizona desert because he was scared that a flood might come?  Th' sun
+shore warped that punt till it wasn't even good for a hencoop."
+
+"Nope. That was Sister-Annie Tompkins.  He was purty near as bad as
+Aristotle, though.  He roped a puma up on th' Sacramentos, an' didn't
+punch no more fer three weeks.  Well, here comes my pardner an' I
+reckons I'll amble right along.  If yu needs any referee or a side
+pardner in any ruction yu has only got to warble up my way. So long."
+
+The next ten days passed quietly, and on the afternoon of the
+eleventh Hopalong's miner friend paid him a visit.
+
+"Jake recommends yore peaches," he laughed as he shook Hopalong's
+hand.  "He says yu boosted another of that crowd.  That bein' so I
+thought I would drop in an' say that they're comin' after yu to-night,
+shore.  Just heard of it from yore friend Jimmy.  Yu can count on us
+when th' rush comes.  But why didn't yu say yu was a pard of Buck
+Peters'?  Me an' him used to shoot up Laramie together.  From what yore
+friend James says, yu can handle this gang by yore lonesome, but if yu
+needs any encouragement yu make some sign an' we'll help th' event
+along some.  They's eight of us that'll be waitin' up to get th'
+returns an' we're shore goin' to be in range."
+
+"Gee, it's nice to run across a friend of Buck's! Ain't he a son-of-
+a-gun?"  Asked Hopalong, delighted at the news.  Then, without waiting
+for a reply, he went on: "Yore shore square, all right, an' I hates to
+refuse yore offer, but I got eighteen friends comin' up an' they ought
+to get here by tomorrow.  Yu tell Jimmy to head them this way when they
+shows up an' I'll have th' claim for them.  There ain't no use of yu
+fellers gettin' mixed up in this.  Th' bunch that's comin' can clean
+out any gang this side of sunup, an' I expects they'll shore be
+anxious to begin when they finds me eatin' peaches an' wastin' my time
+shootin' bums.  Yu pass th' word along to yore friends, an' tell them
+to lay low an' see th' Arory Boerallis hit this town with its tail up.
+Tell Jimmy to do it up good when he speaks about me holdin' th' claim-
+I likes to see Buck an' Red fight when they're good an' mad."
+
+The miner laughed and slapped Hopalong on the shoulder.   "Yore all
+right, youngster! Yore just like Buck was at yore age.  Say now, I
+reckons he wasn't a reg'lar terror on wheels! Why, I've seen him do
+more foolish things than any man I knows of, an' I calculate that if
+Buck pals with yu there ain't no water in yore sand.  My name's Tom
+Halloway," he suggested.
+
+"An' mine's Hopalong Cassidy," was the reply.  "I've heard Buck speak
+of yu."
+
+"Has yu?  Well, don't it beat all how little this world is?  Somebody
+allus turnin' up that knows somebody yu knows.  I'll just amble along,
+Mr. Cassidy, an' don't yu be none bashful about callin' if yu needs
+me.  Any pal of Buck's is my friend.  Well, so long," said the visitor
+as he strode off.  Then he stopped and turned around.  "Hey, mister!" he
+called.  "They are goin' to roll a fire barrel down agin yu from
+behind," indicating by an outstretched arm the point from where it
+would start.  "If it burns yu out I'm goin' to take a band from up
+there," pointing to a cluster of rocks well to the rear of where the
+crowd would work from, "an' I don't care whether yu likes it or not,"
+he added to himself.
+
+Hopalong scratched his head and then laughed.  Taking up a pick and
+shovel, he went out behind the cabin and dug a trench parallel with
+and about twenty paces away from the rear wall.  Heaping the excavated
+dirt up on the near side of the cut, he stepped back and surveyed his
+labor with open satisfaction.  "Roll yore fire barrel an' be dogged,"
+he muttered.  "Mebby she won't make a bully light for pot shots,
+though," he added, grinning at the execution he would do.
+
+Taking up his tools, he went up to the place from where the gang
+would roll the barrel, and made half a dozen mounds of twigs, being
+careful to make them very flimsy.  Then he covered them with earth and
+packed them gently.  The mounds looked very tempting from the view-
+point of a marksman in search of earth-works, and appeared capable of
+stopping any rifle ball that could be fired against them. Hopalong
+looked them over critically and stepped back.
+
+"I'd like to see th' look on th' face of th' son-of-a-gun that uses
+them for cover-won't he be surprised" and he grinned gleefully as he
+pictured his shots boring through them.  Then he placed in the center
+of each a chip or a pebble or something that he thought would show up
+well in the firelight.
+
+Returning to the cabin, he banked it up well with dirt and gravel,
+and tossed a few shovelfuls up on the roof as a safety valve to his
+exuberance.  When he entered the door he had another idea, and fell to
+work scooping out a shallow cellar, deep enough to shelter him when
+lying at full length.  Then he stuck his head out of the window and
+grinned at the false covers with their prominent bull's-eyes.
+
+"When that prize-winnin' gang of ossified idiots runs up agin'
+these fortifications they shore will be disgusted. I'll bet four dollars
+ an' seven cents they'll think their medicine-man's no good.  I
+hopes that puff-eyed marshal will pick out that hump with th' chip on
+it," and he hugged himself in anticipation.
+
+He then cut down a sapling and fastened it to the roof and on it he
+tied his neckerchief, which fluttered valiantly and with defiance in
+the light breeze.  "I shore hopes they appreciates that," he remarked
+whimsically, as he went inside the hut and closed the door.
+
+The early part of the evening passed in peace, and Hopalong, tired
+of watching in vain, wished for action.  Midnight came, and it was not
+until half an hour before dawn that he was attacked.  Then a noise sent
+him to a loophole, where he fired two shots at skulking figures some
+distance off.  A fusillade of bullets replied; one of them ripped
+through the door at a weak spot and drilled a hole in a can of the
+everlasting peaches.  Hopalong set the can in the frying pan and then
+flitted from loophole to loophole, shooting quick and straight.
+Several curses told him that he had not missed, and he scooped up a
+finger of peach juice.  Shots thudded into the walls of his fort in an
+unceasing stream, and, as it grew lighter, several whizzed through the
+loopholes.  He kept close to the earth and waited for the rush, and
+when it came sent it back, minus two of its members.
+
+As he reloaded his Colts a bullet passed through his shirt sleeve
+and he promptly nailed the marksman.  He looked out of a crack in the
+rear wall and saw the top of an adjoining hill crowned with
+spectators, all of whom were armed.  Some time later he repulsed
+another attack and heard a faint cheer from his friends on the hill.
+Then he saw a barrel, blazing from end to end, roll out from the place
+he had so carefully covered with mounds.  It gathered speed and bounded
+over the rough ground, flashed between two rocks and leaped into the
+trench, where it crackled and roared in vain.
+
+"Now," said Hopalong, blazing at the mounds as fast as he could fire
+his rifle, "we'll just see what yu thinks of yore nice little covers."
+
+Yells of consternation and pain rang out in a swelling chorus, and
+legs and arms jerked and flopped, one man, in his astonishment at the
+shot that tore open his cheek, sitting up in plain sight of the
+marksman.  Roars of rage floated up from the main body of the
+besiegers, and the discomfited remnant of barrel-rollers broke for
+real cover.
+
+Then he stopped another rush from the front, made upon the
+supposition that he was thinking only of the second detachment.  A
+hearty cheer arose from Tom Halloway and his friends, ensconced in
+their rocky position, and it was taken up by those on the hill, who
+danced and yelled their delight at the battle, to them more humorous
+than otherwise.
+
+This recognition of his prowess from men of the caliber of his
+audience made him feel good, and he grinned: "Gee, I'll bet Halloway
+an' his friends is shore itchin' to get in this," he murmured, firing
+at a head that was shown for an instant.  "Wonder what Red'll say when
+Jimmy tells him-bet he'll plow dust like a cyclone," and Hopalong
+laughed, picturing to himself the satiation of Red's anger. "Old red-
+headed son-of-a-gun," murmured the cowboy affectionately, "he shore
+can fight."
+
+As he squinted over the sights of his rifle his eye caught sight of
+a moving body of men as they cantered over the flats about two miles
+away.  In his eagerness he forgot to shoot and carefully counted them.
+"Nine," he grumbled.  "Wonder what's th' matter?  "Fearing that they
+were not his friends.  Then a second body numbering eight cantered into
+sight and followed the first.
+
+"Whoop! There's th' Red-head!" he shouted, dancing in his joy.
+"Now," he shouted at the peach can joyously, "yu wait about thirty
+minutes an' yu'll shore reckon Hades has busted loose!"
+
+He grabbed up his Colts, which he kept loaded for repelling rushes,
+and recklessly emptied them into the bushes and between the rocks and
+trees, searching every likely place for a human target . Then he
+slipped his rifle in a loophole and waited for good shots, having
+worked off the dangerous pressure of his exuberance.
+
+Soon he heard a yell from the direction of the "Miner's Rest," and
+fell to jamming cartridges into his revolvers so that he could sally
+out and join in the fray by the side of Red.
+
+The thunder of madly pounding hoofs rolled up the trail, and soon a
+horse and rider shot around the corner and headed for the copse.  Three
+more raced close behind and then a bunch of six, followed by the rest,
+spread out and searched for trouble.
+
+Red, a Colt in each hand and hatless, stood up in his stirrups and
+sent shot after shot into the fleeing mob, which he could not follow
+on account of the nature of the ground. Buck wheeled and dashed down
+the trail again with Red a close second, the others packed in a solid
+mass and after them. At the first level stretch the newcomers swept
+down and hit their enemies, going through them like a knife through
+cheese. Hopalong danced up and down with rage when he could not find
+his horse, and had to stand and yell, a spectator.
+
+The fight drifted in among the buildings, where it became a series
+of isolated duels, and soon Hopalong saw panic-stricken horses
+carrying their riders out of the other side of the town.  Then he went
+gunning for the man who had rustled his horse. He was unsuccessful and
+returned to his peaches.
+
+Soon the riders came up, and when they saw Hopalong shove a peach
+into his powder-grimed mouth they yelled their delight.
+
+"Yu old maverick! Eatin' peaches like yu was afraid we'd git some!"
+shouted Red indignantly, leaping down and running up to his pal as
+though to thrash him.
+
+Hopalong grinned pleasantly and fired a peach against Red's eye. "I
+was savin' that one for yu, Reddie," he remarked, as he avoided Buck's
+playful kick.  "Yu fellers git to work an' dig up some wealth-I'm
+hungry."  Then he turned to Buck: "Yore th' marshal of this town, an'
+any son-of-a-gun what don't like it had better write.  Oh, yes, here
+comes Tom Halloway-'member him?"
+
+Buck turned and faced the miner and his hand went out with a jerk.
+
+"Well, I'll be locoed if I didn't punch with yu on th' Tin-Cup!" he
+said.
+
+"Yu shore did an' yu was purty devilish, but that there Cassidy of
+yourn beats anything I ever seen."
+
+"He's a good kid," replied Buck, glancing to where Red and Hopalong
+were quarreling as to who had eaten the most pie in a contest held
+some years before.
+
+Johnny, nosing around, came upon the perforated and partially
+scattered piles of earth and twigs, and vented his disgust of them by
+kicking them to pieces.  "Hey! Hoppy! Oh, Hoppy!" he called, "what are
+these things?"
+
+Hopalong jammed Red's hat over that person's eyes and replied: "Oh,
+them's some loaded dice I fixed for them."
+
+"Yu son-of-a-gun!" sputtered Red, as he wrestled with his friend in
+the exuberance of his pride.  "Yu son-of-a-gun! Yu shore ought to be
+ashamed to treat `em that way!"
+
+"Shore," replied Hopalong. "But I ain't!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The Hospitality of Travennes
+
+
+Mr. Buck Peters rode into Alkaline one bright September morning and
+sought refreshment at the Emporium.  Mr. Peters had just finished some
+business for his employer and felt the satisfaction that comes with
+the knowledge of work well done.  He expected to remain in Alkaline for
+several days, where he was to be joined by two of his friends and
+punchers, Mr. Hopalong Cassidy and Mr. Red Connors, both of whom were
+at Cactus Springs, seventy miles to the east. Mr. Cassidy and his
+friend had just finished a nocturnal tour of Santa Fe and felt
+somewhat peevish and dull in consequence, not to mention the sadness
+occasioned by the expenditure of the greater part of their combined
+capital on such foolishness as faro, roulette and wet-goods.
+
+Mr. Peters and his friends had sought wealth in the Black Hills,
+where they had enthusiastically disfigured the earth in the fond
+expectation of uncovering vast stores of virgin gold.  Their hopes were
+of an optimistic brand and had existed until the last canister of
+cornmeal flour had been emptied by Mr. Cassidy's burro, which waited
+not upon it's master's pleasure nor upon the ethics of the case.  When
+Mr. Cassidy had returned from exercising the animal and himself over
+two miles of rocky hillside in the vain endeavor to give it his
+opinion of burros and sundry chastisements, he was requested, as owner
+of the beast, to give his counsel as to the best way of securing
+eighteen breakfasts.
+Remembering that the animal was headed north when
+he last saw it and that it was too old to eat, anyway, he suggested a
+plan which had worked successfully at other times for other ends,
+namely, poker.  Mr. McAllister, an expert at the great American game,
+volunteered his service in accordance with the spirit of the occasion
+and, half an hour later, he and Mr. Cassidy drifted  into Pell's poker
+parlors, which were located in the rear of a Chinese laundry, where
+they gathered unto themselves the wherewithal for the required
+breakfasts.  An hour spent in the card room of the "Hurrah" convinced
+its proprietor that they had wasted their talents for the past six
+weeks in digging for gold.  The proof of this permitted the departure
+of the outfits with their customary elan.
+
+At Santa Fe the various individuals had gone their respective ways,
+to reassemble at the ranch in the near future, and for several days
+they had been drifting south in groups of twos and threes and, like
+chaff upon a stream, had eddied into Alkaline, where Mr. Peters had
+found them arduously engaged in postponing the final journey.  After he
+had gladdened their hearts and soothed their throats by making several
+pithy remarks to the bartender, with whom he established their credit,
+he cautioned them against letting any one harm them and, smiling at
+the humor of his warning, left abruptly.
+
+Cactus Springs was burdened with a zealous and initiative
+organization known as vigilantes, whose duty it was to extend the
+courtesies of the land to cattle thieves and the like.  This organization
+ boasted of the name of Travennes' Terrors and of a muster
+roll of twenty.  There was also a boast that no one had ever escaped
+them which, if true, was in many cases unfortunate.  Mr. Slim
+Travennes, with whom Mr. Cassidy had participated in an extemporaneous
+exchange of Colt's courtesies in Santa Fe the year before, was the
+head of the organization and was also chairman of the committee on
+arrivals, and the two gentlemen of the Bar-20 had not been in town an
+hour before he knew of it.
+
+Being anxious to show the strangers every attention and having a keen
+ recollection of the brand of gun-play commanded by Mr. Cassidy, he
+ planned a smoother method of procedure and one calculated to permit
+him to enjoy the pleasures of a good old age.  Mr. Travennes knew that
+ horse thieves were regarded as social enemies, that the necessary proof
+ of their guilt was the finding of stolen animals in their possession, that
+ death was the penalty and that every man, whether directly concerned
+or not, regarded, himself as judge, jury and executioner.
+
+He had several acquaintances who were bound to him by his knowledge
+ of crimes they had committed and would could not refuse his slightest wish.
+ Even if they had been free agents they were not above causing the death of an
+ innocent man.  Mr. Travennes, feeling very self-satisfied at his cleverness,
+arranged to have the proof placed where it would do the most harm
+and intended to take care of the rest by himself.
+
+Mr. Connors, feeling much refreshed and very hungry, arose at
+daylight the next morning, and dressing quickly, started off to feed
+and water the horses.  After having several tilts with the landlord
+about the bucket he took his departure toward the corral at the rear.
+Peering through the gate, he could hardly believe his eyes.  He climbed
+over it and inspected the animals at close range, and found that those
+which he and his friend had ridden for the last two months were not to
+be seen, but in their places were two better animals, which concerned
+him greatly.  Being fair and square himself, he could not understand
+the change and sought enlightenment of his more imaginative and
+suspicious friend.
+
+"Hey, Hopalong!" he called, "come out here an' see what th' blazes
+has happened!"
+
+Mr. Cassidy stuck his auburn head out of the wounded shutter and
+complacently surveyed his companion.  Then he saw the horses and looked
+hard.
+
+"Quit yore foolin', yu old cuss," he remarked pleasantly, as he
+groped around behind him with his feet, searching for his boots.
+"Anybody would think yu was a little boy with yore fool jokes.  Ain't
+yu ever goin' to grow up?"
+
+"They've got our bronch," replied Mr. Connors in an injured tone.
+Honest, I ain't kiddin' yu," he added for the sake of peace.
+
+"Who has?"  Came from the window, followed immediately by, "Yu've got
+my boots!"
+
+"I ain't-they're under th' bunk," contradicted and explained Mr.
+Connors.  Then, turning to the matter in his mind he replied, "I don't
+know who's got them. If I did do yu think I'd be holdin' hands with
+myself?"
+
+"Nobody'd accuse yu of anything like that," came from the window,
+accompanied by an overdone snicker.
+
+Mr. Connors flushed under his accumulated tan as he remembered the
+varied pleasures of Santa Fe, and he regarded the bronchos in anything
+but a pleasant state of mind.
+
+Mr. Cassidy slid through the window and approached his friend,
+looking as serious as he could.
+
+"Any tracks?"  He inquired, as he glanced quickly over the ground to
+see for himself.
+
+"Not after that wind we had last night.  They might have growed there
+for all I can see," growled Mr. Connors.
+
+"I reckon we better hold a pow-wow with th' foreman of this shack
+an' find out what he knows," suggested Mr. Cassidy.  "This looks too
+good to be a swap."
+
+Mr. Connors looked his disgust at the idea and then a light broke in
+upon him.  "Mebby they was hard pushed an' wanted fresh cayuses," he
+said.  "A whole lot of people get hard pushed in this country. Anyhow,
+we'll prospect th' boss."
+
+They found the proprietor in his stocking feet, getting the
+breakfast, and Mr. Cassidy regarded the preparations with open
+approval.  He counted the tin plates and found only three, and,
+thinking that there would be more plates if there were others to feed,
+glanced into the landlord's room.  Not finding signs of other guests,
+on whom to lay the blame for the loss of his horse, he began to ask
+questions.
+
+"Much trade?"  He inquired solicitously.
+
+"Yep," replied the landlord.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked at the three tins and wondered if there had ever
+been any more with which to supply his trade.  "Been out this morning?"
+he pursued.
+
+"Nope."
+
+"Talks purty nigh as much as Buck," thought Mr. Cassidy, and then
+said aloud, "Anybody else here?"
+
+"Nope."
+
+Mr. Cassidy lapsed into a painful and disgusted silence and his
+friend tried his hand.
+
+"Who owns a mosaic bronch, Chinee flag on th' near side, Skillet
+brand?" asked Mr. Connors.
+
+"Quien sabe?"
+
+"Gosh, he can nearly keep still in two lingoes," thought Mr.
+Cassidy.
+
+"Who owns a bob-tailed pinto, saddle-galled, cast in th' near eye,
+Star Diamond brand, white stockin' on th' off front prop, with a habit
+of scratchin' itself every other minute?" went on Mr. Connors.
+
+"Slim Travennes," replied the proprietor, flopping a flapjack.  Mr.
+Cassidy reflectively scratched the back of his hand and looked
+innocent, but his mind was working overtime.
+
+"Who's Slim Travennes?"  Asked Mr. Connors, never having heard of
+that person, owing to the reticence of his friend.
+
+"Captain of th' vigilantes."
+
+"What does he look like on th' general run?"  Blandly inquired Mr.
+Cassidy, wishing to verify his suspicions.  He thought of the trouble
+he had with Mr. Travennes up in Santa Fe and of the reputation that
+gentleman possessed.  Then the fact that Mr. Travennes was the leader
+of the local vigilantes came to his assistance and he was sure that
+the captain had a hand in the change.  All these points existed in
+misty groups in his mind, but the next remark of the landlord caused
+them to rush together and reveal the plot.
+
+"Good," said the landlord, flopping another flapjack, "and a warnin'
+to hoss thieves.
+
+"Ahem," coughed Mr. Cassidy and then continued, "is he a tall,
+lanky, yaller-headed son-of-a-gun, with a big nose an' lots of ears?"
+
+"Mebby so," answered the host.
+
+"Urn, slopping over into bad Sioux," thought Mr. Cassidy, and then
+said aloud, "How long has he hung around this here layout?"  At the
+same time passing a warning glance at his companion.
+
+The landlord straightened up.  "Look here, stranger, if yu hankers
+after his pedigree so all-fired hard yu had best pump him."
+
+"I told yu this here feller wasn't a man what would give away all he
+knowed," lied Mr. Connors, turning to his friend and indicating the
+host.  "He ain't got time for that. Anybody can see that he is a
+powerful busy man.  An' then he ain't no child."
+
+Mr. Cassidy thought that the landlord could tell all he knew in
+about five minutes and then not break any speed records for
+conversation, but he looked properly awed and impressed.  "Well, yu
+needn't go an' get mad about it! I didn't know, did I?"
+
+"Who's gettin' mad?"  Pugnaciously asked Mr. Connors.  After his
+injured feelings had been soothed by Mr. Cassidy's sullen silence he
+again turned to the landlord.
+
+"What did this Travennes look like when yu saw him last?"  Coaxed Mr.
+Connors.
+
+"Th' same as he does now, as yu can see by lookin' out of th'
+window.  That's him down th' street," enlightened the host, thawing to
+the pleasant Mr. Connors.
+
+Mr. Cassidy adopted the suggestion and frowned.  Mr. Travennes and
+two companions were walking toward the corral and Mr. Cassidy once
+again slid out of the window, his friend going by the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+Travennes' Discomfiture
+
+
+When Mr. Travennes looked over the corral fence he was much
+chagrined to see a man and a Colt both paying strict attention to
+his nose.
+
+"Mornin', Duke," said the man with the gun.  "Lose anything?"
+
+Mr. Travennes looked back at his friends and saw Mr. Connors sitting
+on a rock holding two guns.  Mr. Travennes' right and left wings were
+the targets and they pitted their frowns against Mr. Connors' smile.
+
+"Not that I knows of," replied Mr. Travennes, shifting his feet
+uneasily.
+
+"Find anything?"  Came from Mr. Cassidy as he sidled out of the gate.
+
+"Nope," replied the captain of the Terrors, eying the Colt.  "Are yu
+in the habit of payin' early mornin' calls to this here corral?"
+persisted Mr. Cassidy, playing with the gun.
+
+"Ya-as.  That's my business-I'm th' captain of the vigilantes."
+
+"That's too bad," sympathized Mr. Cassidy, moving forward a step.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked put out and backed off.  "What yu mean, stickin'
+me up this-away?"  He asked indignantly.
+
+"Yu needn't go an' get mad," responded Mr. Cassidy.  "Just business.
+Yore cayuse an' another shore climbed this corral fence last night an'
+ate up our bronchs, an' I just nachurly want to know about it."
+
+Mr. Travennes looked his surprise and incredulity and craned his
+neck to see for himself.  When he saw his horse peacefully scratching
+itself he swore and looked angrily up the street.  Mr. Connors, behind
+the shack, was hidden to the view of those on the street, and when two
+men ran up at a signal from Mr. Travennes, intending to insert
+themselves in the misunderstanding, they were promptly lined up with
+the first two by the man on the rock.
+
+"Sit down," invited Mr. Connors, pushing a chunk of air out of the
+way with his guns.  The last two felt a desire to talk and to argue the
+case on its merits, but refrained as the black holes in Mr. Connors'
+guns hinted at eruption.  "Every time yu opens yore mouths yu gets
+closer to th' Great Divide," enlightened that person, and they were
+childlike in their belief.
+
+Mr. Travennes acted as though he would like to scratch his thigh
+where his Colt's chafed him, but postponed the event and listened to
+Mr. Cassidy, who was asking questions.
+
+"Where's our cayuses, General?"
+
+Mr. Travennes replied that he didn't know.  He was worried, for he
+feared that his captor didn't have a secure hold on the hammer of the
+ubiquitous Colt's.
+
+"Where's my cayuse?"  Persisted Mr. Cassidy.
+
+"I don't know, but I wants to ask yu how yu got mine," replied Mr.
+Travennes.
+
+"Yu tell me how mine got out an' I'll tell yu how yourn got in,"
+countered Mr. Cassidy.
+
+Mr. Connors added another to his collection before the captain
+replied.
+
+"Out in this country people get in trouble when they're found with
+other folks' cayuses," Mr. Travennes suggested.
+
+Mr. Cassidy looked interested and replied: "Yu shore ought to borrow
+some experience, an' there's lots floating around. More than one man
+has smoked in a powder mill, an' th' number of them planted who looked
+in th' muzzle of a empty gun is scandalous.  If my remarks don't
+perculate right smart I'll explain."
+
+Mr. Travennes looked down the street again, saw number five added to
+the line-up, and coughed up chunks of broken profanity, grieving his
+host by his lack of courtesy.
+
+"Time," announced Mr. Cassidy, interrupting the round.  "I wants them
+cayuses an' I wants `em right now.  Yu an' me will amble off an' get
+`em.  I won't bore yu with tellin' yu what'll happen if yu gets
+skittish.  Slope along an' don't be scared; I'm with yu," assured Mr.
+Cassidy as he looked over at Mr. Connors, whose ascetic soul pined for
+the flapjacks of which his olfactories caught intermittent whiffs.
+
+"Well, Red, I reckons yu has got plenty of room out here for all yu
+may corral; anyhow there ain't a whole lot more.  My friend Slim an' I
+are shore going to have a devil of a time if we can t find them cussed
+bronchs. Whew, them flapjacks smell like a plain trail to payday.  Just
+think of th' nice maple juice we used to get up to Cheyenne on them
+frosty mornings."
+
+"Get out of here an' lemme alone! `What do yu allus want to go an'
+make a feller unhappy for?  Can't yu keep still about grub when yu
+knows I ain't had my morning's feed yet?"  Asked Mr. Connors, much
+aggrieved.
+
+"Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp.
+Yu tend to business an' watch th' herd.  That shorthorn yearling at th'
+end of th' line"-pointing to a young man who looked capable of taking
+risks-"he looks like he might take a chance an' gamble with yu,"
+remarked Mr. Cassidy, placing Mr. Travennes in front of him and
+pushing back his own sombrero.  "Don't put too much maple juice on them
+flapjacks, Red," he warned as he poked his captive in the back of the
+neck as a hint to get along.  Fortunately Mr. Connors' closing remarks
+are lost to history.
+
+Observing that Mr. Travennes headed south on the quest, Mr. Cassidy
+reasoned that the missing bronchos ought to be somewhere in the north,
+and he postponed the southern trip until such time when they would
+have more leisure at their disposal.  Mr. Travennes showed a strong
+inclination to shy at this arrangement, but quieted down under
+persuasion, and they started off toward where Mr. Cassidy firmly
+believed the North Pole and the cayuses to be.
+
+"Yu has got quite a metropolis here," pleasantly remarked Mr.
+Cassidy as under his direction they made for a distant corral.  "I can
+see four different types of architecture, two of `em on one
+residence," he continued as they passed a wood and adobe hut.  "No
+doubt the railroad will put a branch down here some day an' then yu
+can hire their old cars for yore public buildings.  Then when yu gets a
+post-office yu will shore make Chicago hustle some to keep her end up.
+Let's assay that hollow for horse-hide; it looks promisin'.
+
+The hollow was investigated but showed nothing other than cactus and
+baked alkali.  The corral came next, and there too was emptiness.  For
+an hour the search was unavailing, but at the end of that time Mr.
+Cassidy began to notice signs of nervousness on the part of his guest,
+which grew less as they proceeded. Then Mr. Cassidy retraced their
+steps to the place where the nervousness first developed and tried
+another way and once more returned to the starting point.
+
+"Yu seems to hanker for this fool exercise," quoth Mr. Trayennes
+with much sarcasm.  "If yu reckons I'm fond of this locoed ramblin' yu
+shore needs enlightenment."
+
+"Sometimes I do get these fits," confessed Mr. Cassidy, "an' when I
+do I'm dead sore on objections.  Let's peek in that there hut," he
+suggested.
+
+"Huh; yore ideas of cayuses are mighty peculiar.  Why don't you look
+for `em up on those cactuses or behind that mesquite?  I wouldn't be a
+heap surprised if they was roostin' on th' roof.  They are mighty
+knowing animals, cayuses. I once saw one that could figger like a
+schoolmarm," remarked Mr. Travennes, beginning sarcastically and
+toning it down as he proceeded, out of respect for his companion's
+gun.
+
+"Well, they might be in th' shack," replied Mr. Cassidy.  "Cayuses
+know so much that it takes a month to unlearn them.  I wouldn't like to
+bet they ain't in that hut, though."
+
+Mr. Travennes snickered in a manner decidedly uncomplimentary and
+began to whistle, softly at first.  The gentleman from the Bar-20
+noticed that his companion was a musician; that when he came to a
+strong part he increased the tones until they bid to be heard at
+several hundred yards.  When Mr. Travennes had reached a most
+passionate part in "Juanita" and was expanding his lungs to do it
+justice he was rudely stopped by the insistent pressure of his guard's
+Colt's on the most ticklish part of his ear.
+
+"I shore wish yu wouldn't strain yoreself thataway," said Mr.
+Cassidy, thinking that Mr. Travennes might be endeavoring to call
+assistance.  "I went an' promised my mother on her deathbed that I
+wouldn't let nobody whistle out loud like that, an' th' opery is
+hereby stopped.  Besides, somebody might hear them mournful tones an'
+think that something is th' matter, which it ain't."
+
+Mr. Travennes substituted heartfelt cursing, all of which was
+heavily accented.
+
+As they approached the hut Mr. Cassidy again tickled his prisoner
+and insisted that he be very quiet, as his cayuse was very sensitive
+to noise and it might be there.  Mr. Cassidy still thought Mr.
+Travennes might have friends in the hut and wouldn't for the world
+disturb them, as he would present a splendid target as he approached
+the building.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+The Tale of a Cigarette
+
+
+The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two of
+whom were Mexicans.  Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt called
+upon to relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched
+that gentleman's thigh and then disarmed the sleeping guards.
+
+"One man an' a half," murmured Mr. Cassidy, it being in his creed
+that it took four Mexicans to make one Texan.
+
+In the far corner of the room were two bronchos, one of which tried
+in vain to kick Mr. Cassidy, not realizing that he was ten feet away.
+The noise awakened the sleepers, who sat up and then sprang to their
+feet, their hands instinctively streaking to their thighs for the
+weapons which peeked contentedly from the bosom of Mr. Cassidy's open
+shirt.  One of the Mexicans made a lightning-like grab for the back of
+his neck for the knife which lay along his spine and was shot in the
+front of his neck for his trouble.  The shot spoiled his aim, as the
+knife flashed past Mr. Cassidy's arm, wide by two feet, and thudded
+into the door frame, where it hummed angrily.
+
+"The only man who could do that right was th' man who invented it,
+Mr. Bowie, of Texas," explained Mr. Cassidy to the other Mexican.  Then
+he glanced at the broncho, that was squealing in rage and fear at the
+shot, which sounded like a cannon in the small room, and laughed.
+
+"That's my cayuse, all right, an' he wasn't up no cactus nor
+roostin' on th' roof, neither.  He's th' most affectionate beast I ever
+saw.  It took me nigh onto six months afore I could ride him without
+fighting him to a standstill," said Mr. Cassidy to his guest.  Then he
+turned to the horse and looked it over.  "Come here! What d'yu mean,
+acting thataway?  Yu ragged end of nothin' wobbling in space! Yu wall-
+eyed, ornery, locoed guide to Hades! Yu won't be so frisky when yu've
+made them seventy hot miles between here an' Alkaline in five hours,"
+he promised, as he made his way toward the animal.
+
+Mr. Travennes walked over to the opposite wall and took down a pouch
+of tobacco which hung from a peg.  He did this in a manner suggesting
+ownership, and after he had deftly rolled a cigarette with one hand he
+put the pouch in his pocket and, lighting up, inhaled deeply and with
+much satisfaction. Mr. Cassidy turned around and glanced the group
+over, wondering if the tobacco had been left in the hut on a former
+call.
+
+"Did yu find yore makings?"  He asked, with a note of congratulations
+in his voice.
+
+"Yep. Want one?"  Asked Mr. Travennes.
+
+Mr. Cassidy ignored the offer and turned to the guard whom he had
+found asleep.
+
+"Is that his tobacco?"  He asked, and the guard, anxious to make
+everything run smoothly, told the truth and answered:
+
+"Shore.  He left it here last night," whereupon Mr. Travennes swore
+and Mr. Cassidy smiled grimly.
+
+"Then yu knows how yore cayuse got in an' how mine got out," said
+the latter.  "I wish yu would explain," he added, fondling his Colts.
+
+Mr. Travennes frowned and remained silent.
+
+"I can tell yu, anyhow," continued Mr. Cassidy, still smiling, but
+his eyes and jaw belied the smile.  "Yu took them cayuses out because
+yu wanted yourn to be found in their places.  Yu remembered Santa Fe
+an' it rankled in yu.  Not being man enough to notify me that yu'd
+shoot on sight an' being afraid my friends would get yu if yu plugged
+me on th' sly, yu tried to make out that me an' Red rustled yore
+cayuses.  That meant a lynching with me an' Red in th' places of honor.
+Yu never saw Red afore, but yu didn't care if he went with me.  Yu
+don't deserve fair play, but I'm going to give it to yu because I
+don't want anybody to say that any of th' Bar-20 ever murdered a man,
+not even a skunk like yu.
+
+My friends have treated me too square for that.  Yu can take this gun
+an yu can do one of three things with it, which are: walk out in th' open
+a hundred paces an' then turn an walk toward me-after you face me yu
+ can set it a-going whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore
+hat an' I'll put mine an' th' others back by the cayuses.  Then we'll toss up
+ an' th' lucky man gets it to use as he wants.  Th' third is, shoot yourself."
+
+Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the
+weapon, muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at
+"twirling," he kept its recipient covered during the operation.  Then,
+placing his second Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them
+through the door, being very careful not to lose the drop on his now
+armed prisoner.
+
+Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead,
+and being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked
+to the east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway
+to the meridian.  The glare of its straight rays and those reflected
+from the shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and
+interfere with the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for
+small favors.
+
+Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the
+lay of the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small
+but deep hole out toward the east and that it was about the required
+distance away.  This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in
+the burning sun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in
+the manner he had seen the Apaches cook it.  Mr. Travennes blessed
+hobbies, specific and general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared
+from sight as the surprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his
+assistance.
+
+Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that
+his help was not needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste
+covered the distance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr.
+Travennes swore in self-congratulation and regret.  Mr. Cassidy's shots
+barked a cactus which leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked
+several clouds of alkali near that person's nose, causing him to
+sneeze, duck, and grin.
+
+"It's his own gun," grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through
+his sombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had a whole
+belt full of .44'S.  If it had been Mr. Cassidy's gun that had been
+handed over he would have enjoyed the joke on Mr. Travennes, who would
+have had five cartridges between himself and the promised eternity, as
+be would have been unable to use the .44'S in Mr. Cassidy's .45, while
+the latter would have gladly consented to the change, having as he did
+an extra .45. Never before had Mr. Cassidy looked with reproach upon
+his .45 caliber Colt's, and he sighed as he used it to notify Mr.
+Travennes that arbitration was not to be considered, which that person
+indorsed, said indorsement passing so close to Mr. Cassidy's ear that
+he felt the breeze made by it.
+
+"He's been practicin' since I plugged him up in Santa Fe," thought
+Mr. Cassidy, as he retired around the hut to formulate a plan of
+campaign.
+
+Mr. Travennes sang "Hi-le, hi-lo," and other selections, principally
+others, and wondered how Mr. Cassidy could hoist him out.  The slack of
+his belt informed him that he was in the middle of a fast, and
+suggested starvation as the derrick that his honorable and disgusted
+adversary might employ.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, while figuring out his method of procedure, absent-
+mindedly jabbed a finger in his eye, and the ensuing tears floated an
+idea to him.  He had always had great respect for ricochet shots since
+his friend Skinny Thompson had proved their worth on the hides of
+Sioux.  If he could disturb the sand and convey several grains of it to
+Mr. Travennes' eyes the game would be much simplified.  While planning
+for the proposed excavation, a la Colt's, he noticed several stones
+lying near at hand, and a new and better scheme presented itself for
+his consideration.  If Mr. Travennes could be persuaded to get out of-
+well, it was worth trying.
+
+Mr. Cassidy lined up his gloomy collection and tersely ordered them
+to turn their backs to him and to stay in that position, the
+suggestion being that if they looked around they wouldn't be able to
+dodge quickly enough.  He then slipped bits of his lariat over their
+wrists and ankles, tying wrists to ankles and each man to his
+neighbor.  That finished to his satisfaction, he dragged them in the
+hut to save them from the burning rays of the sun.
+
+Having performed this act of kindness, he crept along the hot sand,
+taking advantage of every bit of cover afforded, and at last he
+reached a point within a hundred feet of the besieged.  During the trip
+Mr. Travennes sang to his heart's content, some of the words being
+improvised for the occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr.
+Cassidy's respect for his own wisdom if he should hear them.  Mr.
+Cassidy heard, however, and several fragments so forcibly intruded on
+his peace of mind that he determined to put on the last verse himself
+and to suit himself.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut.  He
+was down again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him
+and he believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of the
+building, which caused him to fear that he was expected to live on
+nothing as long as he could and then give himself up.  Just to show his
+defiance he stretched himself out on his back and sang with all his
+might, his sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out of
+his eyes.
+
+He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he
+had intended, and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg.
+Looking up, he saw another missile curve into his patch of sky and
+swiftly bear down on him.  He avoided it by a hair's breadth and
+wondered what had happened.  Then what Mr. Travennes thought was a
+balloon, being unsophisticated in matters pertaining to aerial
+navigation, swooped down upon him and smote him on the shoulder and
+also bounced off.
+
+Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up
+elocution as he dodged another stone and wished that the mesquite-
+loving crank had put on a roof.  In evading the projectile he let his
+sombrero appear on a level with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as
+it passed through his head-gear and into the opposite wall made him
+wish that there had been constructed a cellar, also.
+
+"Hi-le, hi-lo" intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of the
+surplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's foot
+shaved Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest
+his enemy.
+
+"Hibernate, blank yu!" derisively shouted the human catapult as he
+released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail.  "Draw in yore laigs
+an' buck," was his God-speed to the missile.
+
+"Hey, yu!" indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective storm
+cellar.  "Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?"
+
+"Hi-le, hi-lo," sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in
+the direction of the complainant.  Then he stood erect and awaited
+results with a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole.  A
+hat waved and an excited voice bit off chunks of expostulation and
+asked for an armistice.  Then two hands shot up and Mr. Travennes, sore
+and disgusted and desperate, popped his head up an blinked at Mr.
+Cassidy's gun.
+
+"Yu was fillin' th' hole up," remarked Mr. Travennes in an accusing
+tone, hiding the real reason for his evacuation.  "In a little while
+I'd a been th' top of a pile instead of th' bottom of a hole," he
+announced, crawling out and rubbing his head.
+
+Mr. Cassidy grinned and ordered his prisoner to one side while be
+secured the weapon which lay in the hole.  Having obtained it as
+quickly as possible be slid it in his open shirt and clambered out
+again.
+
+"Yu remind me of a feller I used to know," remarked Mr. Travennes,
+as he led the way to the hut, trying not to limp.  "Only he throwed
+dynamite.  That was th' way he cleared off chaparral-blowed it off.  He
+got so used to heaving away everything he lit that he spoiled three
+pipes in two days."
+
+Mr. Cassidy laughed at the fiction and then became grave as he
+pictured Mr. Connors sitting on the rock and facing down a line of
+men, any one of whom was capable of his destruction if given the
+interval of a second.
+
+When they arrived at the hut Mr. Cassidy observed that the prisoners
+had moved considerably.  There was a cleanly swept
+
+trail four yards long where they had dragged themselves, and they
+sat in the end nearer the guns.  Mr. Cassidy smiled and fired close to
+the Mexican's ear, who lost in one frightened jump a little of what he
+had so laboriously gained.
+
+"Yu'll wear out yore pants," said Mr. Cassidy, and then added
+grimly, "an' my patience."
+
+Mr. Travennes smiled and thought of the man who so ably seconded Mr.
+Cassidy's efforts and who was probably shot by this time.  The outfit
+of the Bar-20 was so well known throughout the land that he was aware
+the name of the other was Red Connors.  An unreasoning streak of
+sarcasm swept over him and he could not resist the opportunity to get
+in a stab at his captor.
+
+"Mebby yore pard has wore out somebody's patience, too," said Mr.
+Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
+
+His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.
+Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
+
+"I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip," said Mr. Cassidy, trembling
+with scorn and anger, "so yu can pull yourself together.  I'll give yu
+another chance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K.
+If he ain't, I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts
+yu'll make a good acre of weeds.  If he is all right yu'd better
+vamoose this range, for there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into
+next time.  What friends yu have left will have to tote yu off an'
+plant yu," he finished with emphasis.  He drove the horses outside,
+and, after severing the bonds on his prisoners, lined them up.
+
+"Yu," he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, "yu amble right
+smart toward Canada," pointing to the north.  "Keep a-going till yu
+gets far enough away so a Colt won't find yu." Here he grinned with
+delight as he saw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and,
+drawing it forth, he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who
+were already industriously plodding northward. "Hey!" he shouted, and
+when they sullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he
+gleefully waved his rifle at them and warned them further: "This is a
+Sharp's an' it's good for half a mile, so don't stop none too soon.
+
+Having sent them directly away from their friends so they could not
+have him "potted" on the way back, he mounted his broncho and
+indicated to Mr. Travennes that he, too, was to ride, watching that
+that person did not make use of the Winchester which Mr. Connors was
+foolish enough to carry around on his saddle.  Winchesters were Mr.
+Cassidy's pet aversion and Mr. Connors' most prized possession, this
+difference of opinion having upon many occasions caused hasty words
+between them. Mr. Connors, being better with his Winchester than Mr.
+Cassidy was with his Sharp's, had frequently proved that his choice
+was the wiser, but Mr. Cassidy was loyal to the Sharp's and refused to
+be convinced. Now, however, the Winchester became pregnant with
+possibilities and, therefore, Mr. Travennes rode a few yards to the
+left and in advance, where the rifle was in plain sight, hanging as it
+did on the right of Mr. Connors' saddle, which Mr. Travennes graced so
+well.
+
+The journey back to town was made in good time and when they came to
+the buildings Mr. Cassidy dismounted and bade his companion do
+likewise, there being too many corners that a fleeing rider could take
+advantage of. Mr. Travennes felt of his bumps and did so, wishing hard
+things about Mr. Cassidy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+The Penalty
+
+
+While Mr. Travennes had been entertained in the manner narrated, Mr.
+Connors had passed the time by relating stale jokes to the uproarious
+laughter of his extremely bored audience, who had heard the aged
+efforts many times since they had first seen the light of day, and
+most of whom earnestly longed for a drink.  The landlord, hearing the
+hilarity, had taken advantage of the opportunity offered to see a free
+show. Not being able to see what the occasion was for the mirth, he
+had pulled on his boots and made his way to the show with a flapjack
+in the skillets which, in his haste, he had forgotten to put down.  He
+felt sure that he would be entertained, and he was not disappointed.
+He rounded the corner and was enthusiastically welcomed by the hungry
+Mr. Connors, whose ubiquitous guns coaxed from the skillet its
+dyspeptic wad.
+
+"Th' saints be praised!" ejaculated Mr. Connors as a matter of form,
+not having a very clear idea of just what saints were, but he knew
+what flapjacks were and greedily overcame the heroic resistance of the
+one provided by chance and his own guns.  As he rolled his eyes in
+ecstatic content the very man Mr. Cassidy had warned him against
+suddenly arose and in great haste disappeared around the corner of the
+corral, from which point of vantage he vented his displeasure at the
+treatment he had received by wasting six shots at the mortified Mr.
+Connors.
+
+"Steady!" sang out that gentleman as the line-up wavered.  "He's a
+precedent to hell for yu fellers! Don't yu get ambitious, none
+whatever."  Then he wondered how long it would take the fugitive to
+secure a rifle and return to release the others by drilling him at
+long range.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by the vision of a red head that
+climbed into view over a rise a short distance off  and he grinned his
+delight as Mr. Cassidy loomed up, jaunty and triumphant. Mr. Cassidy
+was executing calisthenics with a Colt in the rear of Mr. Travennes'
+neck and was leading the horses.
+
+Mr. Connors waved the skillet and his friend grinned his
+congratulations at what the token signified.
+
+"I see yu got some more," said Mr. Cassidy, as he went down the
+line-up from the rear and collected nineteen weapons of various makes
+and conditions, this number being explained by the fact that all but
+one of the prisoners wore two.  Then he added the five that had kicked
+against his ribs ever since he had left the hut, and carefully
+threaded the end of his lariat through the trigger guards.
+
+"Looks like we stuck up a government supply mule, Red," he remarked,
+as he fastened the whole collection to his saddle.  "Fourteen colts,
+six Merwin-Hulbert's, three Prescott, an' one puzzle," he added,
+examining the puzzle.  "Made in Germany, it says, and it shore looks
+like it.  It's got little pins stickin' out of th' cylinder, like you
+had to swat it with a hammer or a rock, or somethin' to make it go
+off.  Must be damn dangerous, to most anybody around.  Looks more like a
+cactus than a six-shooter-gosh, it's a ten-shooter! I allus said them
+Dutchmen was bloody-minded cusses.  Think of bein' able to shoot
+yoreself ten times before th' blame thing stops!"  Then looking at the
+line-up for the owner of the weapon, he laughed at the woeful
+countenances displayed.  "Did they sidle in by companies or squads?"  He
+asked.
+
+"By twos, mostly.  Then they parade-rested an' got discharged from
+duty.  I had eleven, but one got homesick, or disgusted, or something,
+an' deserted.  It was that cussed flapjack," confessed and explained
+Mr. Connors.
+
+"What!" said Mr. Cassidy in a loud voice.  "Got away! Well, we'll
+have to make our get-away plumb sudden or we'll never go.
+
+At this instant the escaped man again began his bombardment from the
+corner of the corral and Mr. Cassidy paused, indignant at the
+fusillade which tore up the dust at his feet.  He looked reproachfully
+at Mr. Connors and then circled out on the plain until he caught a
+glimpse of a fleeing cow-puncher, whose back rapidly grew smaller in
+the fast-increasing distance.
+
+"That's yore friend, Red," said Mr. Cassidy as he returned from his
+reconnaissance.  "He's that short-horn yearling.  Mebby he'll come back
+again," he added hopefully.  "Anyhow, we've got to move.  He'll collect
+reinforcements an' mebby they all won't shoot like him.  Get up on yore
+Clarinda an' hold th' fort for me," he ordered, pushing the farther
+horse over to his friend. Mr. Connors proved that an agile man can
+mount a restless horse and not lose the drop, and backed off three
+hundred yards, deftly substituting his Winchester for the Colts.  Then
+Mr. Cassidy likewise mounted with his attention riveted elsewhere and
+backed off to the side of his companion.
+
+The bombardment commenced again from the corral, but this time Mr.
+Connors' rifle slid around in his lap and exploded twice.  The
+bellicose gentleman of the corral yelled in pain and surprise and
+vanished.
+
+"Purty good for a Winchester," said Mr. Cassidy in doubtful
+congratulation.
+
+"That's why I got him," snapped Mr. Connors in brief reply, and then
+he laughed.  "Is them th' vigilantes what never let a man get away?"  He
+scornfully asked, backing down the street and patting his Winchester.
+
+"Well, Red, they wasn't all there.  They was only twelve all told,"
+excused Mr. Cassidy.  "An' then we was two," he explained, as he wished
+the collection of six-shooters was on Mr. Connors' horse so they
+wouldn't bark his shin.
+
+"An we still are," corrected Mr. Connors, as they wheeled and
+galloped for Alkaline.
+
+As the sun sank low on the horizon Mr. Peters finished ordering
+provisions at the general store, the only one Alkaline boasted, and
+sauntered to the saloon where he had left his men.  He found diem a few
+dollars richer, as they had borrowed ten dollars from the bartender on
+their reputations as poker players and had used the money to stake Mr.
+McAllister in a game against the local poker champion.
+
+"Has Hopalong an' Red showed up yet?"  Asked Mr. Peters, frowning at
+the delay already caused.
+
+"Nope," replied Johnny Nelson, as he paused from tormenting Billy
+Williams.
+
+At that minute the doorway was darkened and Mr. Cassidy and Mr.
+Connors entered and called for refreshments.  Mr. Cassidy dropped a
+huge bundle of six-shooters on the floor, making caustic remarks
+regarding their utility.
+
+"What's th' matter?"  Inquired Mr. Peters of Mr. Cassidy.  "Yu looks
+mad an' anxious. An' where in blazes did yu corral them guns?"
+
+Mr. Cassidy drank deep and then reported with much heat what had
+occurred at Cactus Springs and added that he wanted to go back and
+wipe out the town, said desire being luridly endorsed by Mr. Connors.
+
+"Why, shore," said Mr. Peters, "we'll all go.  Such doings must be
+stopped instanter."  Then he turned to the assembled outfits and asked
+for a vote, which was unanimous for war.
+
+Shortly afterward eighteen angry cowpunchers rode to the east, two
+red-haired gentlemen well in front and urging speed.  It was 8 P.M.
+when they left Alkaline, and the cool of the night was so delightful
+that the feeling of ease which came upon them made them lax and they
+lost three hours in straying from the dim trail.  At eight o'clock the
+next morning they came in sight of their destination and separated
+into two squads, Mr. Cassidy leading the northern division and Mr.
+Connors the one which circled to the south.  The intention was to
+attack from two directions, thus taking the town from front and rear.
+
+Cactus Springs lay gasping in the excessive heat and the vigilantes
+who had toed Mr. Connors' line the day before were lounging in the
+shade of the "Palace" saloon, telling what they would do if they ever
+faced the same man again.  Half a dozen sympathizers offered gratuitous
+condolence and advice and all were positive that they knew where Mr.
+Cassidy and Mr. Connors would go when they died.
+
+The rolling thunder of madly pounding hoofs disturbed their
+post-mortem and they arose in a body to flee from half their number,
+who, guns in hands, charged down upon them through clouds of sickly
+white smoke.  Travennes' Terrors were minus many weapons and they
+could not be expected to give a glorious account of themselves.  Windows
+rattled and fell in and doors and walls gave off peculiar sounds as
+they grew full of holes.  Above the riot rattled the incessant crack of
+Colt's and Winchester, emphasized at close intervals by the assertive
+roar of buffalo guns.  Off to the south came another rumble of hoofs
+and Mr. Connors, leading the second squad, - arrived to participate
+in the payment of the debt.
+
+Smoke spurted from windows and other points of vantage and hung
+wavering in the heated air.  The shattering of woodwork told of heavy
+slugs finding their rest, and the whines that grew and diminished in
+the air sang the course of .45s.
+
+While the fight raged hottest Mr. Nelson sprang from his horse and
+ran to the "Palace," where he collected and piled a heap of tinder like
+wood, and soon the building burst out in flames, which, spreading,
+swept the town from end to end.
+
+Mr. Cassidy fired slowly and seemed to be waiting for something.  Mr.
+Connors laid aside his hot Winchester and devoted his attention to his
+Colts.  A spurt of flame and smoke leaped from the window of a `dobe
+hut and Mr. Connors sat down, firing as he went.  A howl from the
+window informed him that he had made a hit, and Mr. Cassidy ran out
+and dragged him to the shelter of a near-by bowlder and asked how much
+he was hurt.
+
+"Not much-in the calf," grunted Mr. Connors.  "He was a bad shot-must
+have been the cuss that got away yesterday," speculated the injured
+man as he slowly arose to his feet.  Mr. Cassidy dissented from force
+of habit and returned to his station.
+Mr. Travennes, who was sleeping late that morning, coughed and
+fought for air in his sleep, awakened in smoke, rubbed his eyes to
+make sure and, scorning trousers and shirt, ran clad in his red woolen
+undergarments to the corral, where he mounted his scared horse and
+rode for the desert and safety.
+
+Mr. Cassidy, swearing at the marksmanship of a man who fired at his
+head and perforated his sombrero, saw a crimson rider sweep down upon
+him, said rider being heralded by a blazing .44.
+
+"Gosh!" ejaculated Mr. Cassidy, scarcely believing his eyes.  "Oh,
+it's my friend Slim going to hades," he remarked to himself in audible
+and relieved explanation.  Mr. Cassidy's Colts cracked a protest and
+then he joined Mr. Peters and the others and with them fought his way
+out of the flame-swept town of Cactus Springs.
+
+An hour later Mr. Connors glanced behind him at the smoke
+silhouetted on the horizon and pushed his way to where Mr. Cassidy
+rode in silence.  Mr. Connors grinned at his friend of the red hair,
+who responded in the same manner.
+
+"Did yu see Slim?"  Casually inquired Mr. Connors, looking off to the
+south.
+
+Mr. Cassidy sat upright in his saddle and felt of his Colts.  "Yes,"
+he replied, "I saw him."
+
+Mr. Connors thereupon galloped on in silence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Rustlers on the Range
+
+
+The affair at Cactus Springs had more effect on the life at the Bar-
+20 than was realized by the foreman.  News travels rapidly, and certain
+men, whose attributes were not of the sweetest, heard of it and swore
+vengeance, for Slim Travennes had many friends, and the result of his
+passing began to show itself.  Outlaws have as their strongest defense
+the fear which they inspire, and little time was lost in making
+reprisals, and these caused Buck Peters to ride into Buckskin one
+bright October morning and then out the other side of the town.  Coming
+to himself with a start he looked around shamefacedly and retraced his
+course.  He was very much troubled, for, as foreman of the Bar-2o, he
+had many responsibilities, and when things ceased to go aright he was
+expected not only to find the cause of the evil, but also the remedy.
+That was what he was paid seventy dollars a month for and that was
+what he had been endeavoring to do.  As yet, however, he had only
+accomplished what the meanest cook's assistant had done.  He knew the
+cause of his present woes to be rustlers (cattle thieves), and that
+was all.
+
+Riding down the wide, quiet street, he stopped and dismounted before
+the ever-open door of a ramshackle, one-story frame building.  Tossing
+the reins over the flattened ears of his vicious pinto he strode into
+the building and leaned easily against the bar, where he drummed with
+his fingers and sank into a reverie.
+
+A shining bald pate, bowed over an open box, turned around and
+revealed a florid face, set with two small, twinkling blue eyes, as
+the proprietor, wiping his hands on his trousers, made his way to
+Buck's end of the bar.
+
+"Mornin', Buck. How's things?`
+
+The foreman, lost in his reverie, continued to stare out the door.
+
+"Mornin'," repeated the man behind the bar. "How's things?"
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated the foreman, smiling, "purty cussed."
+
+"Anything flew?"
+
+"Th' C-80 lost another herd last night."
+
+His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, but
+the latter shook his head.  "Not this mornin'-I'll try one of them vile
+cigars, however."
+
+"Them cigars are th' very best that-" began the proprietor,
+executing the order.
+
+"Oh, heck!" exclaimed Buck with weary disgust . "Yu don't have to
+palaver none: I shore knows all that by heart."
+
+"Them cigars-" repeated the proprietor.
+
+"Yas, yas; them cigars-I know all about them cigars.  Yu gets them
+for twenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a
+hundred," replied the foreman, biting off the end `of his weed.  Then
+he stared moodily and frowned.  "I wonder why it is?"  He asked.  "We
+punchers like good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money.  What
+do we get? Why, cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol
+an' extract for our drink.  Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a
+sumptious layout, pays less an' gets bang-up stuff.  If yu smelled one
+of them K. C. cigars yu'd shore have to ask what it was, an' as for
+the liquor, why, yu'd think St. Peter asked yu to have one with him.
+It's shore wrong somewhere."
+
+"They have more trade in K. C.," suggested the proprietor.
+
+"An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,
+mahogany an' French mirrors," countered the foreman.
+
+"They have more trade," reiterated the man with the cigars.
+
+"Forty men spend thirty dollars apiece with yu every month. "The
+proprietor busied himself under the bar.  "Yu'll feel better to-morrow.
+Anyway, what do yu care, yu won't lose yore job," he said, emerging.
+
+Buck looked at him and frowned, holding back the words which formed
+in anger.  What was the use, he thought, when every man judged the
+world in his own way.
+
+"Have yu seen any of th' boys?"  He asked, smiling again.
+
+"Nary a boy.  Who do yu reckon's doin' all this rustlin'?"
+
+"I'm reckonin', not shoutin'," responded the foreman.
+
+The proprietor looked out the window and grinned: "Here comes one of
+yourn now.
+
+The newcomer stopped his horse in a cloud of dust, playfully kicked
+the animal in the ribs and entered, dusting the alkali from him with a
+huge sombrero.  Then he straightened up and sniffed: "What's burnin'?"
+he asked, simulating alarm.  Then he noticed the cigar between the
+teeth of his foreman and grinned: "Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck."
+
+"Hullo, Hopalong," said the foreman.  "Want a smoke?"  Waving his hand
+toward the box on the bar.
+
+Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette:
+"Shore, but I'll burn my own-I know what it is."
+
+"What was yu doin' to my cayuse afore yu come in?"  Asked Buck.
+
+"Nothin'," replied the newcomer.  "That was mine what I kicked in th'
+corrugations."
+
+"How is it yore ridin' the calico?"  Asked the foreman.  "I thought yu
+was dead stuck on that piebald."
+
+"That piebald's a goat; he's beein livin' off my pants lately,"
+responded Hopalong.  "Every time I looks th' other way he ambles over
+and takes a bite at me.  Yu just wait `til this rustler business is
+roped, an' branded, an' yu'll see me eddicate that blessed scrapheap
+into eatin' grass again.  He swiped Billy's shirt th' other day-took it
+right off th' corral wall, where Billy's left it to dry. "Then, seeing
+Buck raise his eyebrows, he explained: "Shore, he washed it again.
+That makes three times since last fall."
+
+The proprietor laughed and pushed out the ever-ready bottle, but
+Hopalong shoved it aside and told the reason: "Ever since I was up to
+K. C. I've been spoiled. I'm drinkin' water an' slush."
+
+"For Pete's sake, has any more of yu fellers been up to K. C.?"
+queried the proprietor in alarm.
+
+"Shore: Red an' Billy was up there, too." responded Hopalong.  "Red's
+got a few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer.  Yu better
+send for some decent stuff afore he comes to town," he warned.
+
+Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar.  Then he
+turned to Hopalong.  "What did you find?"  He asked.
+
+"Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain-then
+nothin'."
+
+"It shore beats me," soliloquized the foreman.  "It shore beats me."
+
+"Think it was Tamale Jose's old gang?"  Asked Hopalong.
+
+"If it was they took th' wrong trail home-that ain't th' way to
+Mexico."
+
+Hopalong tossed aside his half-smoked cigarette.  "Well, come on
+home; what's th' use stewin' over it? It'll come out all O.K. in th'
+wash." Then he laughed: "There won't be no piebald waitin' for it."
+
+Evading Buck's playful blow he led the way to the door, and soon
+they were a cloud of dust on the plain.  The proprietor, despairing of
+customers under the circumstances, absent-mindedly wiped oil on the bar,
+and sought his chair for a nap, grumbling about the way his trade had
+fallen off, for there were few customers, and those who did call were
+heavy with loss of sleep, and with anxiety, and only paused long
+enough to toss off their drink.  On the ranges there were occurrences
+which tried men's souls.
+
+For several weeks cattle had been disappearing from the ranges and
+the losses had long since passed the magnitude of those suffered when
+Tamale Jose and his men had crossed the Rio Grande and repeatedly
+levied heavy toll on the sleek herds of the Pecos Valley.  Tamale Jose
+had raided once too often, and prosperity and plenty had followed on
+the ranches and the losses had been forgotten until the fall round-ups
+clearly showed that rustlers were again at work.
+
+Despite the ingenuity of the ranch owners and the unceasing
+vigilance and night rides of the cow-punchers, the losses steadily
+increased until there was promised a shortage which would permit no
+drive to the western terminals of the railroad that year.  For two
+weeks the banks of the Rio Grande had been patrolled and sharp-eyed
+men searched daily for trails leading southward, for it was not
+strange to think that the old raiders were again at work,
+notwithstanding the fact that they had paid dearly for their former
+depredations.
+
+The patrols failed to discover anything out of the
+ordinary and the searchers found no trails. Then it was that the
+owners and foremen of the four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon
+and sat closeted together for all of one hot afternoon.
+
+The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the
+ranches represented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode
+north, his destination being far-away Montana.  All the ranches within
+a radius of a hundred miles received letters and blanks and one week
+later the Pecos Valley Cattle-Thief Elimination Association was
+organized and working, with Buck as Chief Ranger.
+
+One of the outcomes of Buck's appointment was a sudden and marked
+immigration into the affected territory.  Mr. Connors returned from
+Montana with Mr. Frenchy McAllister, the foreman of the Tin-Cup, who
+was accompanied by six of his best and most trusted men.  Mr.
+McAllister and party were followed by Mr. You-bet Somes, foreman of
+the Two-X-Two of Arizona, and five of his punchers, and later on the
+same day Mr. Pie Willis, accompanied by Mr. Billy Jordan and his two
+brothers, arrived from the Panhandle. The O-Bar-O, situated close to
+the town of Muddy Wells, increased its payroll by the addition of nine
+men, each of whom bore the written recommendation of the foreman of
+the Bar-20. The C-8o, Double Arrow and the Three Triangle also
+received heavy reinforcements, and even Carter, owner of the Barred
+Horseshoe, far removed from the zone of the depredations, increased
+his outfits by half their regular strength.
+
+ Buck believed that if a thing was worth doing at all that it was worth
+doing very well, and his acquaintances were numerous and loyal.
+The collection of individuals that responded to the call were noteworthy
+examples of "gun-play" and their aggregate value was at par with twice their
+numbers in cavalry.
+
+
+Each ranch had one large ranch-house and numerous line-houses
+scattered along the boundaries.  These latter, while intended as camps
+for the outriders, had been erected in the days, none too remote, when
+Apaches, Arrapahoes, and even Cheyennes raided southward, and they had
+been constructed with the idea of defense paramount.  Upon more than
+one occasion a solitary line-rider had retreated within their adobe
+walls and had successfully resisted all the cunning and ferocity of a
+score of paint-bedaubed warriors and, when his outfit had rescued him,
+emerged none the worse for his ordeal.
+
+On the Bar-20, Buck placed these houses in condition to withstand
+seige.  Twin barrels of water stood in opposite corners, provisions
+were stored on the hanging shelves and the bunks once again reveled in
+untidiness.  Spare rifles, in pattern ranging from long-range Sharp's
+and buffalo guns to repeating rifles, leaned against the walls, and
+unbroken boxes of cartridges were piled above the bunks.  Instead of
+the lonesome outrider, he placed four men to each house, two of whom
+were to remain at home and hold the house while their companions rode
+side by side on their multi-mile beat.
+
+There were six of these houses and, instead of returning each night to the
+same line-house, the outriders kept on and made the circuit, thus keeping
+every one well informed and breaking the monotony.  These measures were
+expected to cause the rustling operations to cease at once, but the effect was to
+shift the losses to the Double Arrow, the line-houses of which boasted
+only one puncher each.  Unreasonable economy usually defeats its
+object.
+
+The Double Arrow was restricted on the north by the Staked Plain,
+which in itself was considered a superb defense.  The White Sand Hills
+formed its eastern boundary and were thought to be second only to the
+northern protection.  The only reason that could be given for the
+hitherto comparative immunity from the attacks of the rustlers was
+that its cattle clung to the southern confines where there were
+numerous springs, thus making imperative the crossing of its territory
+to gain the herds.
+
+It was in line-house No. 3, most remote of all, that Johnny Redmond
+fought his last fight and was found face down in the half ruined house
+with a hole in the back of his head, which proved that one man was
+incapable of watching all the loop holes in four walls at once.  There
+must have been some casualties on the other side, for Johnny was
+reputed to be very painstaking in his "gunplay," and the empty shells
+which lay scattered on the floor did not stand for as many ciphers, of
+that his foreman was positive.
+
+He was buried the day he was found, and the news of his death ran quickly
+from ranch to ranch and made more than one careless puncher arise and
+pace the floor in anger.  More men came to the Double Arrow and its
+sentries were doubled.  The depredations continued, however, and one night
+a week later Frank Swift reeled into the ranch-house and fell exhausted across
+the supper table.  Rolling hoof-beats echoed flatly and died away on the plain,
+but the men who pursued them returned empty handed.  The wounds of the
+unfortunate were roughly dressed and in his delirium he recounted the
+fight.  His companion was found literally shot to pieces twenty paces
+from the door.  One wall was found blown in, and this episode, when
+coupled with the use of dynamite, was more than could be tolerated.
+
+When Buck had been informed of this he called to him Hopalong
+Cassidy, Red Connors and Frenchy McAllister, and the next day the
+three men rode north and the contingents of the ranches represented in
+the Association were divided into two squads, one of which was to
+remain at home and guard the ranches; the other, to sleep fully
+dressed and armed and never to stray far from their ranch-houses and
+horses.  These latter would be called upon to ride swiftly and far when
+the word came.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+Mr. Trendley Assumes Added Importance
+
+
+That the rustlers were working under a well organized system was
+evident.  That they were directed by a master of the game was
+ceaselessly beaten into the consciousness of the Association by the
+diversity, dash and success of their raids. No one, save the three men
+whom they had destroyed, had ever seen them.  But, like Tamale Jose,
+they had raided once too often.
+
+Mr. Trendley, more familiarly known to men as "Slippery," was the
+possessor of a biased conscience, if any at all.  Tall, gaunt and
+weather-beaten and with coal-black eyes set deep beneath hairless
+eyebrows, he was sinister and forbidding.  Into his forty-five years of
+existence he had crowded a century of experience, and unsavory rumors
+about him existed in all parts of the great West. From Canada to
+Mexico and from Sacramento to Westport his name stood for brigandage.
+His operations had been conducted with such consummate cleverness that
+in all the accusations there was lacking proof.
+
+Only once had he erred, and then in the spirit of pure deviltry and in the
+days of youthful folly, and his mistake was a written note.  He was even
+thought by some to have been concerned in the Mountain Meadow
+Massacre; others thought him to have been the leader of the band of
+outlaws that had plundered along the Santa Fe Trail in the late `60's.
+In Montana and Wyoming he was held responsible for the outrages of the
+band that had descended from the Hole-in-the-Wall territory and for
+over a hundred miles carried murder and theft that shamed as being
+weak the most assiduous efforts of zealous Cheyennes.  It was in this
+last raid that he had made the mistake and it was in this raid that
+Frenchy McAllister had lost his wife.
+
+When Frenchy had first been approached by Buck as to his going in
+search of the rustlers he had asked to go alone.  This had been denied
+by the foreman of the Bar-20 because the men whom he had selected to
+accompany the scout were of such caliber that their presence could not
+possibly form a hindrance.  Besides being his most trusted friends they
+were regarded by him as being the two best exponents of "gun-play"
+that the West afforded.  Each was a specialist: Hopalong, expert beyond
+belief with his Colt's six-shooters, was only approached by Red, whose
+Winchester was renowned for its accuracy.  The three made a perfect
+combination, as the rashness of the two younger men would be under the
+controlling influence of a man who could retain his coolness of mind
+under all circumstances.
+
+When Buck and Frenchy looked into each other's eyes there sprang
+into the mind of each the same name-Slippery Trendley.  Both had spent
+the greater part of a year in fruitless search for that person, the
+foreman of the Tin-Cup in vengeance for the murder of his wife, the
+blasting of his prospects and the loss of his herds; Buck, out of
+sympathy for his friend and also because they had been partners in the
+Double Y. Now that the years had passed and the long-sought-for
+opportunity was believed to be at hand, there was promised either a
+cessation of the outrages or that Buck would never again see his
+friends.
+
+When the three mounted and came to him for final instructions Buck
+forced himself to be almost repellent in order to be capable of
+coherent speech.  Hopalong glanced sharply at him and then understood,
+Red was all attention and eagerness and remarked nothing but the
+words.
+
+"Have yu ever heard of Slippery Trendley?"  Harshly inquired the
+foreman.
+
+They nodded, and on the faces of the younger men a glint of hatred
+showed itself, but Frenchy wore his poker countenance.
+
+Buck continued: "Th' reason I asked yu was because I don't want yu
+to think yore goin' on no picnic.  I ain't shore it's him, but I've had
+some hopeful information.  Besides, he is th' only man I knows of who's
+capable of th' plays that have been made. It's hardly necessary for me
+to tell yu to sleep with one eye open and never to get away from yore
+guns.  Now I'm goin' to tell yu th' hardest part: yu are goin' to
+search th' Staked Plain from one end to th' other, an' that's what no
+white man's ever done to my knowledge.
+
+"Now, listen to this an' don't forget it.  Twenty miles north from
+Last Stand Rock is a spring; ten miles south of that bend in Hell
+Arroyo is another. If yu gets lost within two days from th' time yu
+enters th' Plain, put yore left hand on a cactus sometime between sun-
+up an' noon, move around until yu are over its shadow an' then ride
+straight ahead-that's south.  If you goes loco beyond Last Stand Rock,
+follow th' shadows made before noon-that's th' quickest way to th'
+Pecos.  Yu all knows what to do in a sand-storm, so I won't bore you
+with that.  Repeat all I've told yu," he ordered and they complied.
+
+"I'm tellin' yu this," continued the foreman, indicating the two
+auxiliaries, "because yu might get separated from Frenchy.  Now I
+suggests that yu look around near the' Devils Rocks:  I've heard that
+there are several water holes among them, an' besides, they might be
+turned into fair corrals.  Mind yu, I know what I've said sounds damned
+idiotic for anybody that has had as much experience with th' Staked
+Plain as I have, but I've had every other place searched for miles
+around.  Th' men of all th' ranches have been scoutin' an' th' Plain is
+th' only place left. Them rustlers has got to be found if we have to
+dig to hell for them.  They've taken th' pot so many times that they
+reckons they owns it, an' we've got to at least make a bluff at
+drawin' cards.  Mebby they're at th' bottom of th' Pecos," here he
+smiled faintly, "but wherever they are, we've got to find them. I want
+to holler `Keno."
+
+"If you finds where they hangs out come away instanter," here his
+face hardened and his eyes narrowed, "for it'll take more than yu
+three to deal with them th' way I'm a-hankerin' for.  Come right back
+to th' Double Arrow, send me word by one of their punchers an' get all
+the rest you can afore I gets there.  It'll take me a day to get th'
+men together an' to reach yu.  I'm goin' to use smoke signals to call
+th' other ranches, so there won't be no time lost.  Carry all th' water
+yu can pack when yu leaves th' Double Arrow an' don't depend none on
+cactus juice.  Yu better take a pack horse to carry it, an' yore grub-
+yu can shoot it if yu have to hit th' trail real hard."
+
+The three riders felt of their accouterments, said "So long," and
+cantered off for the pack horse and extra ammunition.  Then they rode
+toward the Double Arrow, stopping at Cowan's long enough to spend some
+money, and reached the Double Arrow at nightfall.  Early the next
+morning they passed the last line-house and, with the profane well-
+wishes of its occupants ringing in their ears, passed onto one of
+Nature's worst blunders- the Staked Plain.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+The Search Begins
+
+
+As the sun arose it revealed three punchers riding away from
+civilization.  On all sides, stretching to the evil-appearing horizon,
+lay vast blotches of dirty-white and faded yellow alkali and sand.
+Occasionally a dwarfed mesquite raised its prickly leaves and rustled
+mournfully.  With the exception of the riders and an occasional Gila
+monster, no life was discernible.  Cacti of all shapes and sizes reared
+aloft their forbidding spines or spread out along the sand.  All was
+dead, ghastly; all was oppressive, startlingly repellent in its
+sinister promise; all was the vastness of desolation.
+
+Hopalong knew this portion of the desert for ten miles inward-he had
+rescued straying cattle along its southern rim- but once beyond that
+limit they would have to trust to chance and their own abilities.
+There were water holes on this skillet, but nine out of ten were death
+traps, reeking with mineral poisons, colored and alkaline.  The two
+mentioned by Buck could not be depended on, for they came and went,
+and more than one luckless wanderer had depended on them to allay his
+thirst, and had died for his trust.
+
+So the scouts rode on in silence, noting the half-buried skeletons of cattle
+which were strewn plentifully on all sides.  Nearly three per cent, of the cattle be-
+longing to the Double Arrow yearly found death on this tableland, and
+the herds of that ranch numbered many thousand heads. It was this
+which made the Double Arrow the poorest of the ranches, and it was
+this which allowed insufficient sentries in its line-houses.  The
+skeletons were not all of cattle, for at rare intervals lay the sand-
+worn frames of men.
+
+On the morning of the second day the oppression increased with the
+wind and Red heaved a sigh of restlessness.  The sand began to skip
+across the plain, in grains at first and hardly noticeable.  Hopalong
+turned in his saddle and regarded the desert with apprehension.  As he
+looked he saw that where grains had shifted handfuls were now moving.
+His mount evinced signs of uneasiness and was hard to control.
+
+A gust of wind, stronger than the others, pricked his face and grains of sand
+rolled down his neck.  The leather of his saddle emitted strange noises
+as if a fairy tattoo was being beaten upon it and he raised his hand
+and pointed off toward the east.  The others looked and saw what had
+appeared to be a fog rise out of the desert and intervene between them
+and the sun.  As far as eye could reach small whirlwinds formed and
+broke and one swept down and covered them with stinging sand.  The day
+became darkened and their horses whinnied in terror and the clumps of
+mesquite twisted and turned to the gusts.
+
+Each man knew what was to come upon them and they dismounted,
+hobbled their horses and threw them bodily to the earth, wrapping a
+blanket around the head of each.  A rustling as of paper rubbing
+together became noticeable and they threw themselves flat upon the
+earth, their heads wrapped in their coats and buried in the necks of
+their mounts.  For an hour they endured the tortures of hell and then,
+when the storm had passed, raised their heads and cursed Creation.
+Their bodies burned as though they had been shot with fine needles and
+their clothes were meshes where once was tough cloth.  Even their shoes
+were perforated and the throat of each ached with thirst.
+
+Hopalong fumbled at the canteen resting on his hip and gargled his
+mouth and throat, washing down the sand which wouldn't come up.  His
+friends did likewise and then looked around.  After some time had
+elapsed the loss of their pack horse was noticed and they swore again.
+Hopalong took the lead in getting his horse ready for service and then
+rode around in a circle half a mile in diameter, but returned empty
+handed.  The horse was gone and with it went their main supply of food
+and drink.
+
+Frenchy scowled at the shadow of a cactus and slowly rode toward the
+northeast, followed closely by his friends.  His hand reached for his
+depleted canteen, but refrained-water was to be saved until the last
+minute.
+
+"I'm goin' to build a shack out here an' live in it, I am!" exploded
+Hopalong in withering irony as he dug the sand out of his ears and
+also from his sixshooter.  "I just nachurally dotes on this, I do!"
+
+The others were too miserable to even grunt and he neatly severed
+the head of a Gila monster from its scaly body as it opened it
+venomous jaws in rage at this invasion of its territory.  "Lovely
+place!" he sneered.
+
+"You better save them cartridges, Hoppy," interposed Red as his
+companion fired again, feeling that he must say something.
+
+"An' what for?" blazed his friend.  "To plug sand storms? Anybody
+what we find on this God-forsaken lay-out won't have to be shot-they
+will commit suicide an' think it's fun! Tell yu what, if them rustlers
+hangs out on this sand range they're better men than I reckons they
+are. Anybody what hides up here shore earns all he steals. "Hopalong
+grumbled from force of habit and because no one else would.  His
+companions understood this and paid no attention to him, which
+increased his disgust.
+
+"What are we up here for?"  He asked, belligerently.  "Why, because
+them Double Arrow idiots can't even watch a desert! We have to do
+their work for them an' they hangs around home an' gets slaughtered!
+Yes, sir!" he shouted, "they can't even take care of themselves when
+they're in line-houses what are forts.  Why, that time we cleaned out
+them an' th' C-80 over at Buckskin they couldn't help runnin' into
+singin' lead!"
+
+"Yes," drawled Red, whose recollection of that fight was vivid.
+"Yas, an' why?"  He asked, and then replied to his own question.
+"Because yu sat up in a barn behind them, Buck played his gun on th'
+side window, Pete an' Skinny lay behind a rock to one side of Buck, me
+an' Lanky was across th' Street in front of them, an' Billy an' Johnny
+was in th' arroyo on th' other side.  Cowan laid on his stummick on th'
+roof of his place with a buffalo gun, an' the whole blamed town was
+agin them.  There wasn't five seconds passed that lead wasn't rippin'
+through th' walls of their shack.  Th' Houston House wasn't made for no
+fort, an' besides, they wasn't like th' gang that's punchin' now.
+That's why."
+
+Hopalong became cheerful again, for here was a chance to differ from
+his friend.  The two loved each other the better the more they
+squabbled.
+
+"Yas!" responded Hopalong with sarcasm.  "Yas!" he reiterated,
+drawling it out.  "Yu was in front of them, an' with what? Why, an'
+old, white-haired, interfering Winchester, that's what! Me an' my
+Sharp's-"
+
+"Yu and yore Sharp's!" exploded Red, whose dislike for that rifle
+was very pronounced.  "Yu and yore Sharp's."
+
+"Me an' my Sharp's, as I was palaverin' before bein' interrupted,"
+continued Hopalong, "did more damage in five min-"
+
+"Says yu!" snapped Red with heat.  "All yu an yore Sharp's could do
+was to cut yore initials in th' back door of their shack, an' -"
+
+"Did more damage in five minutes," continued Hopalong, "than all th'
+blasted Winchesters in th' whole damned town.  Why-"
+
+"An' then they was cut blamed poor.  Every time that cannon of yourn
+exploded I shore thought th'-"
+
+"Why, Cowan an' his buffalo did more damage (Cowan was reputed to be
+a very poor shot) than yu an-"
+
+"I thought th' artillery was comin' into th' disturbance.  I could
+see yore red head-"
+
+"MY red head!" exclaimed Hopalong, sizing up the crimson warlock of
+his companion.  "MY red head!" he repeated, and then turned to Frenchy:
+"Hey, Frenchy, who's got th' reddest hair, me or Red?"
+
+Frenchy slowly turned in his saddle and gravely scrutinized them.
+Being strictly impartial and truthful, he gave up the effort of
+differentiating and smiled.  "Why, if the tops of yore heads were poked
+through two holes in a board an' I didn't know which was which, I'd
+shore make a mistake if I tried to name `em"
+
+But Red had the last word.  "Anyhow, you didn't have a Sharp's in
+that fight-you bad a .45-70 Winchester, just like mine!"
+
+Thereupon the discussion was directed at the judge, and the forenoon
+passed very pleasantly, Frenchy even smiling in his misery.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+Hopalong's Decision
+
+
+Shortly after noon, Hopalong, who had ridden with his head bowed low
+in meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh.  Then he looked at Red
+and grinned.
+
+"Look ahere, Red," he began, "there ain't no rustlers with their
+headquarters on this God-forsaken sand heap, an' there never was.  They
+have to have water an' lots of it, too, an' th' nearest of any account
+is th' Pecos, or some of them streams over in th' Panhandle.  Th'
+Panhandle is th' best place.  There are lots of streams an' lakes over
+there an' they're right in a good grass country.  Why, an' army could
+hide over there an' never be found unless it was hunted for blamed
+good. Then, again, it's close to the railroad.  Up north aways is th'
+south branch of th' Santa Fe Trail an' it's far enough away not to
+bother anybody in th' middle Panhandle.  Then there's Fort Worth purty
+near, an' other trails.  Didn't Buck say he had all th' rest of th'
+country searched?  He meant th' Pecos Valley an th' Davis Mountains
+country.  All th' rustlers would have to do if they were in th'
+Panhandle would be to cross th' Canadian an th' Cimarron an' hit th'
+trail for th' railroad. Good fords, good grass an' water all th' way,
+cattle fat when they are delivered an plenty of room.  Th' more I
+thinks about it th' more I cottons to the Panhandle."
+
+"Well, it shore does sound good," replied Red, reflectively.
+
+"Do yu mean th' Cunningham Lake region or farther north?"
+
+"Just th' other side of this blasted desert: anywhere where there's
+water," responded Hopalong, enthusiastically.  "I've been doin' some
+hot reckonin' for th' last two hours an' this is th' way it looks to
+me: they drives th' cows up on this skillet for a ways, then turns
+east an' hits th' trail for home an' water.  They can get around th'
+ca on near Thatcher's Lake by a swing of th' north.  I tell yu that's
+th' only way out'n this.  Who could tell where they turned with th'
+wind raisin' th' deuce with the trail?  Didn't we follow a trail for a
+ways, an' then what? Why, there wasn't none to follow.  We can ride
+north `till we walk behind ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I
+am in favor of headin' for th' Sulphur Spring Creek district.  We can
+spend a couple of weeks, if we has to, an' prospect that whole region
+without havin' to cut our' water down to a smell an' a taste an live
+on jerked beef. If we investigates that country we'll find something
+else than sand storms, poisoned water holes an' blisters."
+
+"Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?"  Inquired Red,
+doubtfully.
+
+"Along th' Canadian an' th' edges, yas; in th' middle, no,"
+explained Hopalong.  "They hang close together on account of th' war-
+whoops, an' they like th' trails purty well because of there allus
+bein' somebody passin'."
+
+"Buck ought to send some of th' Panhandle boys up there," suggested
+Red.  "There's Pie Willis an' th' Jordans-they knows th' Panhandle like
+yu knows poker."
+
+Frenchy had paid no apparent attention to the conversation up to
+this point, but now he declared himself.  "Yu heard what Buck said,
+didn't yu?"  He asked.  "We were told to search th' Staked Plains from
+one end to th' other an' I'm goin' to do it if I can hold out long
+enough.  I ain't goin' to palaver with yu because what yu say can't be
+denied as far as wisdom is concerned.  Yu may have hit it plumb center,
+but I knows what I was ordered to do, an' yu can't get me to go over
+there if you shouts all night.  When Buck says anything, she goes.  He
+wants to know where th' cards are stacked an' why he can't holler
+`Keno,' an' I'm goin' to find out if I can.  Yu can go to Patagonia if
+yu wants to, but yu go alone as far as I am concerned."
+
+"Well, it's better if yu don't go with us," replied Hopalong, taking
+it for granted that Red would accompany him.  "Yu can prospect this end
+of th' game an' we'll be takin' care of th' other.  It's two chances
+now where we only had one afore."
+
+"Yu go east an' I'll hunt around as ordered," responded Frenchy.
+
+"East nothin'," replied Hopalong.  "Yu don't get me to wallow in hot
+alkali an' lose time ridin' in ankle-deep sand when I can hit th'
+south trail, skirt th' White Sand Hills an' be in God's country again.
+I ain't goin' to wrastle with no ca on this here trip, none whatever.
+I'm goin' to travel in style, get to Big Spring by ridin' two miles to
+where I could only make one on this stove.  Then I'll head north along
+Sulpher Spring Creek an' have water an' grass all th' way, barrin' a
+few stretches.  While you are bein' fricasseed I'll be streakin'
+through cottonwood groves an' ridin' in the creek."
+
+"Yu'll have to go alone, then," said Red, resolutely.  "Frenchy ain't
+a-goin' to die of lonesomeness on this desert if I knows what I'm
+about, an' I reckon I do, some.  Me an' him'll follow out what Buck
+said, hunt around for a while an' then Frenchy can go back to th'
+ranch to tell Buck what's up an' I'll take th' trail yu are a-scared
+of an' meet yu at th' east end of Cunningham Lake three days from
+now."
+
+"Yu better come with me," coaxed Hopalong, not liking what his
+friend had said about being afraid of the trail past the ca on and
+wishing to have some one with whom to talk on his trip.  "I'm goin' to
+have a nice long swim to-morrow night," he added, trying bribery.
+
+"An' I'm goin' to try to keep from hittin' my blisters," responded
+Red. "I don't want to go swimmin' in no creek full of moccasins-I'd
+rather sleep with rattlers or copperheads. Every time I sees a cotton-
+mouth I feels like I had just sit down on one.
+
+"I'll flip a coin to see whether yu comes or not," proposed
+Hopalong.
+
+"If yu wants to gamble so bad I'll flip yu to see who draws our pay
+next month, but not for what you said," responded Red, choking down
+the desire to try his luck.
+
+Hopalong grinned and turned toward the south. "If I sees Buck afore
+yu do, I'll tell him yu an' Frenchy are growin' watermelons up near
+Last Stand Rock an' are waitin' for rain. Well, so long," he said.
+
+"Yu tell Buck we're obeyin' orders!" shouted Red, sorry that he was
+not going with his bunkie.
+
+Frenchy and Red rode on in silence, the latter feeling strangely
+lonesome, for he and the departed man had seldom been separated when
+journeys like this were to be taken. And when in search of pleasure
+they were nearly always together.  Frenchy, while being very friendly
+with Hopalong, a friendship that would have placed them side by side
+against any odds, was not accustomed to his company and did not notice
+his absence.
+
+Red looked off toward the south for the tenth time and for the tenth
+time thought that his friend might return.  "He's a son-of-a-gun," he
+soliloquized.
+
+His companion looked up: "He shore is, an' he's right about this
+rustler business, too.  But we'll look around for a day or so an' then
+yu raise dust for th' Lake.  I'll go back to th' ranch an' get things
+primed, so there'll be no time lost when we get th' word."
+
+"I'm sorry I went an' said what I did about me takin' th' trail he
+was a-scared of," confessed Red, after a pause.  "Why, he ain't
+a-scared of nothin'."
+
+"He got back at yu about them watermelons, so what's th'
+difference?"  Asked Frenchy.  "He don't owe yu nothin'."
+
+An hour later they searched the Devil's Rocks, but found no
+rustlers.  Filling their canteens at a tiny spring and allowing their
+mounts to drink the remainder of the water, they turned toward Hell
+Arroyo, which they reached at nightfall.  Here, also, their search
+availed them nothing and they paused in indecision.  Then Frenchy
+turned toward his companion and advised him to ride toward the Lake in
+the night when it was comparatively cool.
+
+Red considered and then decided that the advice was good.  He rolled
+a cigarette, wheeled and faced the east and spurred forward: "So
+long," he called.
+
+"So long," replied Frenchy, who turned toward the south and departed
+for the ranch.
+
+The foreman of the Bar-20 was cleaning his rifle when he heard the
+hoof-beats of a galloping horse and he ran around the corner of the
+house to meet the newcomer, whom he thought to be a courier from the
+Double Arrow.  Frenchy dismounted and explained why he returned alone.
+
+Buck listened to the report and then, noting the fire which gleamed
+in his friend's eyes, nodded his approval to the course.   "I reckon
+it's Trendley, Frenchy-I've heard a few things since yu left. An' yu
+can bet that if Hopalong an' Red have gone for him he'll be found.  I
+expect action any time now, so we'll light th' signal fire."  Then he
+hesitated; "Yu light it-yu've been waiting a long time for this."
+
+The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other
+balls at different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to
+feed the numbers of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next
+twenty-four hours.
+
+Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three
+Triangle, followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O.  The
+outfits of the Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all,
+came next and had scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the
+Double Arrow, fretting at the delay, rode up.  With the sixteen from
+the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious
+cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+A Problem Solved
+
+
+Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus
+cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it.  He
+camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his
+journey.  It was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an
+hour later he passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow.
+Half an hour later he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad.  Thinking
+that an investigation would not be out of place, he rode after the
+rider and overtook him, when that person paused and retraced his
+course.
+
+"Hullo, Hopalong!" shouted the puncher and he came near enough to
+recognize his pursuer.  "Thought yu was farmin' up on th' Staked
+Plain?"
+
+"Hullo, Pie," replied Hopalong, recognizing Pie Willis.  "What was yu
+chasin' so hard?"
+
+"Coyote-damn `em, but can't they go some?  They're gettin' so thick
+we'll shore have to try strichnine an' thin `em out."
+
+"I thought anybody that had been raised in th' Panhandle would know
+better'n to chase greased lightnin'," rebuked Hopalong.  "Yu has got
+about as much show catchin' one of them as a tenderfoot has of bustin'
+an outlawed cayuse."
+
+"Shore; I know it," responded Pie, grinning.  "But it's fun seem'
+them hunt th' horizon.  What are yu doin' down here an' where are yore
+pardners?"
+
+Thereupon Hopalong enlightened his inquisitive companion as to what
+had occurred and as to his reasons for riding south.
+
+Pie immediately became enthusiastic and announced his intention of
+accompanying Hopalong on his quest, which intention struck that
+gentleman as highly proper and wise.  Then Pie hastily turned and
+played at chasing coyotes in the direction of the line-house, where he
+announced that his absence would be accounted for by the fact that he
+and Hopalong were going on a journey of investigation into the
+Panhandle.  Billy Jordan who shared with Pie the accommodations of the
+house, objected and showed, very clearly, why he was eminently better
+qualified to take up the proposed labors than his companions.  The
+suggestions were fast getting tangled up with the remarks, when Pie,
+grabbing a chunk of jerked beef, leaped into his saddle and absolutely
+refused to heed the calls of his former companion and return.  He rode
+to where Hopalong was awaiting him as if he was afraid he wasn't going
+to live long enough to get there.  Confiding to his companion that
+Billy was a "locoed sage hen," he led the way along the base of the
+White Sand Hills and asked many questions.  Then they turned toward the
+east and galloped hard.
+
+It had been Hopalong's intention to carry out what he had told Red
+and to go to Big Spring first and thence north along Sulphur Spring
+Creek, but to this his guide strongly dissented.  There was a short
+cut, or several of them for that matter, was Pie's contention, and any
+one of them would save a day's hard riding.  Hopalong made no objection
+to allowing his companion to lead the way over any trail he saw fit,
+for he knew that Pie had been born and brought up in the Panhandle,
+the Cunningham Lake district having been his back yard, as it were. So
+they followed the short cut having the most water and grass, and
+pounded out a lively tattoo as they raced over the stretches of sand
+which seemed to slide beneath them.
+
+"What do yu know about this here business?"  Inquired Pie, as they
+raced past a chaparral and onto the edge of a grassy plain.
+
+"Nothin' more'n yu do, only Buck said he thought Slippery Trendley
+is at th' bottom of it."
+
+"What!" ejaculated Pie in surprise.  "Him!"
+
+"Yore on.  An' between yu an' me an' th' Devil, I wouldn't be a heap
+surprised if Deacon Rankin is with him, neither."
+
+Pie whistled: "Are him an' th' Deacon pals?"
+
+"Shore," replied Hopalong, buttoning up his vest and rolling a
+cigarette.  "Didn't they allus hang out together! One watched that th'
+other didn't get plugged from behind.  It was a sort of yu-scratch-my-
+back-an'-I'll-scratch-yourn arrangement."
+
+"Well, if they still hangs out together, I know where to hunt for
+our cows," responded Pie.  "Th' Deacon used to range along th'
+headwaters of th' Colorado-it ain't far from Cunningham Lake.
+Thunderation!" he shouted, "I knows th' very ground they're on-I can
+take yu to th' very shack!" Then to himself he muttered: "An' that
+doodlebug Billy Jordan thinkin' he knowed more about th' Panhandle
+than me!"
+
+Hopalong showed his elation in an appropriate manner and his
+companion drank deeply from the proffered flask; Thereupon they
+treated their mounts to liberal doses of strap-oil and covered the
+ground with great speed.
+
+They camped early, for Hopalong was almost worn out from the
+exertions of the past few days and the loss of sleep he had sustained.
+Pie, too excited to sleep and having had unbroken rest for a long
+period, volunteered to keep guard, and his companion eagerly
+consented.
+
+Early the next morning they broke camp and the evening of the same
+day found them fording Sulphur Spring Creek, and their quarry lay only
+an hour beyond, according to Pie.  Then they forded one of the streams
+which form the headwaters of the Colorado, and two hours later they
+dismounted in a cottonwood grove. Picketing their horses, they
+carefully made their way through the timber, which was heavily grown
+with brush, and, after half an hour's maneuvering, came within sight
+of the further edge.
+
+Dropping down on all fours, they crawled to the last line of brush and
+looked out over an extensive bottoms. At their feet lay a small river, and
+in a clearing on the farther side was a rough camp, consisting of about a
+dozen leanto shacks and log cabins in the main collection, and a few scattered
+cabins along the edge.  A huge fire was blazing before the main collection
+ of huts, and to the rear of these was an indistinct black mass, which they
+ knew to be the corral.
+
+At a rude table before the fire more than a score of men were eating
+supper and others could be heard moving about and talking at different
+points in the background.  While the two scouts were learning the lay
+of the land, they saw Mr. Trendley and Deacon Rankin walk out of the
+cabin most distant from the fire, and the latter limped.  Then they saw
+two men lying on rude cots, and they wore bandages.  Evidently Johnny
+Redmond had scored in his fight.
+
+The odor of burning cowhide came from the corral, accompanied by the
+squeals of cattle, and informed them that brands were being blotted
+out.  Hopalong longed to charge down and do some blotting out of
+another kind, but a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder and he
+silently wormed his way after Pie as that person led the way back to
+the horses. Mounting, they picked their way out of the grove and rode
+over the plain at a walk.  When far enough away to insure that the
+noise made by their horses would not reach the ears of those in the
+camp they cantered toward the ford they had taken on the way up.
+
+After emerging from the waters of the last forded stream, Pie raised
+his hand and pointed off toward the northwest, telling his companion
+to take that course to reach Cunningham Lake.  He himself would ride
+south, taking, for the saving of time, a yet shorter trail to the
+Double Arrow, from where he would ride to Buck.  He and the others
+would meet Hopalong and Red at the split rock they had noticed on
+their way up.
+
+Hopalong shook hands with his guide and watched him disappear into
+the night.  He imagined he could still catch whiffs of burning cowhide
+and again the picture of the camp came to his mind.  Glancing again at
+the point where Pie had disappeared, he stuffed his sombrero under a
+strap on his saddle and slowly rode toward the lake.  A coyote slunk
+past him on a time-destroying lope and an owl hooted at the
+foolishness of men.  He camped at the base of a cottonwood and at
+daylight took up his journey after a scanty breakfast from his saddle-
+bags.
+
+Shortly before noon he came in sight of the lake and looked for his
+friend.  He had just ridden around a clump of cotton-woods when he was
+hit on the back with something large and soft.  Turning in his saddle,
+with his Colts ready, he saw Red sitting on a stump, a huge grin
+extending over his features.  He replaced the weapon, said something
+about fools and dismounted, kicking aside the bundle of grass his
+friend had thrown.
+
+"Yore shore easy," remarked Red, tossing aside his cold cigarette.
+"Suppose I was Trendley, where would yu be now?"
+
+"Diggin' a hole to put yu in," pleasantly replied Hopalong.  "If I
+didn't know he wasn't around this part of the country I wouldn't a
+rode as I did."
+
+The man on the stump laughed and rolled a fresh cigarette.  Lighting
+it, he inquired where Mr. Trendley was, intimating by his words that
+the rustler had not been found.
+
+"About thirty miles to th' southeast," responded the other.  "He's
+figurin' up how much dust he'll have when he gets our cows on th'
+market. Deacon Rankin is with him, too."
+
+"Th' deuce!" exclaimed Red, in profound astonishment.
+
+"Yore right," replied his companion.  Then he explained all the
+arrangements and told of the camp.
+
+Red was for riding to the rendezvous at once, but his friend thought
+otherwise and proposed a swim, which met with approval. After enjoying
+themselves in the lake they dressed and rode along the trail Hopalong
+had made in coming for his companion, it being the intention of the
+former to learn more thoroughly the lay of the land immediately
+surrounding the camp.  Red was pleased with this, and while they rode
+he narrated all that had taken place since the separation on the
+Plain, adding that he had found the trail left by the rustlers after
+they had quitted the desert and that he had followed it for the last
+two hours of his journey.  It was well beaten and an eighth of a mile
+wide.
+
+At dark they came within sight of the grove and picketed their
+horses at the place used by Pie and Hopalong.  Then they moved forward
+and the same sight greeted their eyes that had been seen the night
+before. Keeping well within the edge of the grove and looking
+carefully for sentries, they went entirely around the camp and picked
+out several places which would be of strategic value later on.  They
+noticed that the cabin used by Slippery Trendley was a hundred paces
+from the main collection of huts and that the woods came to within a
+tenth part of that distance of its door. It was heavily built, had no
+windows and faced the wrong direction.
+
+Moving on, they discovered the storehouse of the enemy, another
+tempting place.  It was just possible, if a siege became necessary, for
+several of the attacking force to slip up to it and either destroy it
+by fire or take it and hold it against all comers.  This suggested a
+look at the enemy's water supply, which was the river.  A hundred paces
+separated it from the nearest cabin and any rustler who could cross
+that zone under the fire of the besiegers would be welcome to his
+drink.
+
+It was very evident that the rustlers had no thought of defense,
+thinking, perhaps, that they were immune from attack with such a well
+covered trail between them and their foes.  Hopalong mentally accused
+them of harboring suicidal inclinations and returned with his
+companion to the horses.  They mounted and sat quietly for a while, and
+then rode slowly away and at dawn reached the split rock, where they
+awaited the arrival of their friends, one sleeping while the other
+kept guard.  Then they drew a rough map of the camp, using the sand for
+paper, and laid out the plan of attack.
+
+As the evening of the next day came on they saw Pie, followed by
+many punchers, ride over a rise a mile to the south and they rode out
+to meet him.
+
+When the force arrived at the camp of the two scouts they were shown
+the plan prepared for them.  Buck made a few changes in the disposition
+of the men and then each member was shown where he was to go and was
+told why.  Weapons were put in a high state of efficiency, canteens
+were refilled and haversacks were somewhat depleted.  Then the
+newcomers turned in and slept while Hopalong and Red kept guard.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+The Call
+
+
+At three o'clock the next morning a long line of men slowly filed
+into the cottonwood grove, being silently swallowed up by the dark.
+Dismounting, they left their horses in the care of three of their
+number and disappeared into the brush.  Ten minutes later forty of the
+force were distributed along the edge of the grove fringing on the
+bank of the river and twenty more minutes gave ample time for a
+detachment of twenty to cross the stream and find concealment in the
+edge of the woods which ran from the river to where the corral made an
+effective barrier on the south.
+
+Eight crept down on the western side of the camp and worked their way
+close to Mr. Trendley's cabin door, and the seven who followed this
+detachment continued and took up their positions at the rear of the corral,
+where, it was hoped, some of the rustlers would endeavor to
+escape into the woods by working their way through the cattle in the corral
+and then scaling the stockade wall. These seven were from the Three
+Triangle and the Double Arrow, and they were positive that any such attempt
+would not be a success from the view-point of the rustlers.
+
+Two of those who awaited the pleasure of Mr. Trendley crept forward,
+and a rope swished through the air and settled over the stump which
+lay most convenient on the other side of the cabin door.  Then the
+slack moved toward the woods, raised from the ground as it grew taut
+and, with the stump for its axis, swung toward the door, where it
+rubbed gently against the rough logs.  It was made of braided
+horsehair, was half an inch in diameter and was stretched eight inches
+above the ground.
+
+As it touched the door, Lanky Smith, Hopalong and Red stepped out of
+the shelter of the woods and took up their positions behind the cabin,
+Lanky behind the northeast corner where he would be permitted to swing
+his right arm.  In his gloved right hand he held the carefully arranged
+coils of a fifty-foot lariat, and should the chief of the rustlers
+escape tripping he would have to avoid the cast of the best roper in
+the southwest.
+
+The two others took the northwest corner and one of
+them leaned slightly forward and gently twitched the tripping-rope.
+The man at the other end felt the signal and whispered to a companion,
+who quietly disappeared in the direction of the river and shortly
+afterward the mournful cry of a whip-poor-will dirged out on the early
+morning air. It had hardly died away when the quiet was broken by one
+terrific crash of rifles, and the two camp guards asleep at the fire
+awoke in another world.
+
+Mr. Trendley, sleeping unusually well for the unjust, leaped from
+his bed to the middle of the floor and alighted on his feet and wide
+awake.  Fearing that a plot was being consummated to deprive him of his
+leadership, he grasped the Winchester which leaned at the head of his
+bed and, tearing open the door, crashed headlong to the earth.  As he
+touched the ground, two shadows sped out from the shelter of the cabin
+wall and pounced upon him.  Men who can rope, throw and tie a wild
+steer in thirty seconds flat do not waste time in trussing operations,
+and before a minute had elapsed he was being carried into the woods,
+bound and helpless.  Lanky sighed, threw the rope over one shoulder and
+departed after his friends.
+
+When Mr. Trendley came to his senses he found himself bound to a
+tree in the grove near the horses.  A man sat on a stump not far from
+him, three others were seated around a small fire some distance to the
+north, and four others, one of whom carried a rope, made their way
+into the brush.  He strained at his bonds, decided that the effort was
+useless and watched the man on the stump, who struck a match and lit a
+pipe.  The prisoner watched the light flicker up and go out and there
+was left in his mind a picture that he could never forget.  The face
+which had been so cruelly, so grotesquely revealed was that of Frenchy
+McAllister, and across his knees lay a heavy caliber Winchester.  A
+curse escaped from the lips of the outlaw; the man on the stump spat
+at a firefly and smiled.
+
+From the south came the crack of rifles, incessant and sharp.  The
+reports rolled from one end of the clearing to the other and seemed to
+sweep in waves from the center of the line to the ends.  Faintly in the
+infrequent lulls in the firing came an occasional report from the rear
+of the corral, where some desperate rustler paid for his venture.
+
+Buck went along the line and spoke to the riflemen, and after some
+time had passed and the light had become stronger, he collected the
+men into groups of five and six.  Taking one group and watching it
+closely, it could be seen that there was a world of meaning in this
+maneuver.  One man started firing at a particular window in an opposite
+hut and then laid aside his empty gun and waited.  When the muzzle of
+his enemy's gun came into sight and lowered until it had nearly gained
+its sight level, the rifles of the remainder of the group crashed out
+in a volley and usually one of the bullets, at least, found its
+intended billet.  This volley firing became universal among the
+besiegers and the effect was marked.
+
+Two men sprinted from the edge of the woods near Mr. Trendley's
+cabin and gained the shelter of the storehouse, which soon broke out
+in flames.  The burning brands fell over the main collection of huts,
+where there was much confusion and swearing.  The early hour at which
+the attack had been delivered at first led the besieged to believe
+that it was an Indian affair, but this impression was soon corrected
+by the volley firing, which turned hope into despair.  It was no great
+matter to fight Indians, that they had done many times and found more
+or less enjoyment in it; but there was a vast difference between brave
+and puncher, and the chances of their salvation became very small.
+They surmised that it was the work of the cow-men on whom they had
+preyed and that vengeful punchers lay hidden behind that death-fringe
+of green willow and hazel.
+
+Red, assisted by his inseparable companion, Hopalong, laboriously
+climbed up among the branches of a black walnut and hooked one leg
+over a convenient limb.  Then he lowered his rope and drew up the
+Winchester which his accommodating friend fastened to it. Settling
+himself in a comfortable position and sheltering his body somewhat by
+the tree, he shaded his eyes by a hand and peered into the windows of
+the distant cabins.
+
+"How is she, Red?"  Anxiously inquired the man on the ground.
+
+"Bully: want to come up?"
+
+"Nope.  I'm goin' to catch yu when yu lets go," replied Hopalong with
+a grin.
+
+"Which same I ain't goin' to," responded the man in the tree.
+
+He swung his rifle out over a forked limb and let it settle in the
+crotch.  Then he slew his head around until he gained the bead he
+wished.  Five minutes passed before he caught sight of his man and then
+he fired.  Jerking out the empty shell he smiled and called out to his
+friend: "One."
+
+Hopalong grinned and went off to tell Buck to put all the men in
+trees.
+
+Night came on and still the firing continued.  Then an explosion
+shook the woods.  The storehouse had blown up and a sky full of burning
+timber fell on the cabins and soon three were half consumed, their
+occupants dropping as they gained the open air.  One hundred paces
+makes fine pot-shooting, as Deacon Rankin discovered when evacuation
+was the choice necessary to avoid cremation.  He never moved after he
+touched the ground and Red called out: "Two," not knowing that his
+companion had departed.
+
+The morning of the next day found a wearied and hopeless garrison,
+and shortly before noon a soiled white shirt was flung from a window
+in the nearest cabin.  Buck ran along the line and ordered the firing
+to cease and caused to be raised an answering flag of truce.  A full
+minute passed and then the door slowly opened and a leg protruded,
+more slowly followed by the rest of the man, and Cheyenne Charley
+strode out to the bank of the river and sat down.  His example was
+followed by several others and then an unexpected event occurred.
+Those in the cabins who preferred to die fighting, angered at this
+desertion, opened fire on their former comrades, who barely escaped by
+rolling down the slightly inclined bank into the river.  Red fired
+again and laughed to himself. Then the fugitives swam down the river
+and landed under the guns of the last squad.  They were taken to the
+rear and, after being bound, were placed under a guard. There were
+seven in the party and they looked worn out.
+
+When the huts were burning the fiercest the uproar in the corral
+arose to such a pitch as to drown all other sounds.  There were left
+within its walls a few hundred cattle whose brands had not yet been
+blotted out, and these, maddened to frenzy by the shooting and the
+flames, tore from one end of the enclosure to the other, crashing
+against the alternate walls with a noise which could be heard far out
+on the plain.  Scores were trampled to death on each charge and finally
+the uproar subsided in sheer want of cattle left with energy enough to
+continue.  When the corral was investigated the next day there were
+found the bodies of four rustlers, but recognition was impossible.
+
+Several of the defenders were housed in cabins having windows in the
+rear walls, which the occupants considered fortunate.  This opinion was
+revised, however, after several had endeavored to escape by these
+openings.  The first thing that occurred when a man put his head out
+was the hum of a bullet, and in two cases the experimenters lost all
+need of escape.
+
+The volley firing had the desired effect, and at dusk there remained
+only one cabin from which came opposition.  Such a fire was
+concentrated on it that before an hour had passed the door fell in and
+the firing ceased.  There was a rush from the side, and the Barred
+Horseshoe men who swarmed through the cabins emerged without firing a
+shot.  The organization that had stirred up the Pecos Valley ranches
+had ceased to exist.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+The Showdown
+
+
+A fire burned briskly in front of Mr. Trendley's cabin that night
+and several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways.  Two men
+leaned against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and
+the range.  One of them, Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, sang in his sweet
+tenor, and other men gradually strolled up and seated themselves on
+the ground, where the fitful gleam of responsive pipes and cigarettes
+showed like fireflies. The songs followed one after another, first a
+lover's plea in soft Spanish and then a rollicking tale of the cow-
+towns and men.  Supper had long since been enjoyed and all felt that
+life was, indeed, well worth living.
+
+A shadow loomed against the cabin wall and a procession slowly made
+its way toward the open door.  The leader, Hopalong, disappeared within
+and was followed by Mr. Trendley, bound and hobbled and tied to Red,
+the rear being brought up by Frenchy, whose rifle lolled easily in the
+crotch of his elbow.  The singing went on uninterrupted and the hum of
+voices between the selections remained unchanged.  Buck left the crowd
+around the fire and went into the cabin, where his voice was heard
+assenting to something.  Hopalong emerged and took a seat at the fire,
+sending two punchers to take his place. He was joined by Frenchy and
+Red, the former very quiet.
+
+In the center of a distant group were seven men who were not armed.
+Their belts, half full of cartridges, supported empty holsters.  They
+sat and talked to the men around them, swapping notes and experiences,
+and in several instances found former friends and acquaintances.  These
+men were not bound and were apparently members of Buck's force.  Then
+one of them broke down, but quickly regained his nerve and proposed a
+game of cards.  A fire was started and several games were immediately
+in progress.  These seven men were to die at daybreak.
+
+As the night grew older man after man rolled himself in his blanket
+and lay down where he sat, sinking off to sleep with a swiftness that
+bespoke tired muscles and weariness.  All through the night, however,
+there were twelve men on guard, of whom three were in the cabin.
+
+At daybreak a shot from one of the guards awakened every man within
+hearing, and soon they romped and scampered down to the river's edge
+to indulge in the luxury of a morning plunge.  After an hour's
+horseplay they trooped back to the cabin and soon had breakfast out of
+the way.
+
+Waffles, foreman of the O-Bar-O, and You-bet Somes strolled over to
+the seven unfortunates who had just completed a choking breakfast and
+nodded a hearty "Good morning."  Then others came up and finally all
+moved off toward the river.  Crossing it, they disappeared into the
+grove and all sounds of their advance grew into silence.
+
+Mr. Trendley, escorted outside for the air, saw the procession as it
+became lost to sight in the brush.  He sneered and asked for a smoke,
+which was granted.  Then his guards were changed and the men began to
+straggle back from the grove.
+
+Mr. Trendley, with his back to the cabin, scowled defiantly at the
+crowd that hemmed him in.  The coolest, most damnable murderer in the
+West was not now going to beg for mercy.  When he had taken up crime as
+a means of livelihood he had decided that if the price to be paid for
+his course was death, he would pay like a man. He glanced at the
+cottonwood grove, wherein were many ghastly secrets, and smiled.  His
+hairless eyebrows looked like livid scars and his lips quivered in
+scorn and anger.
+
+As he sneered at Buck there was a movement in the crowd before him
+and a pathway opened for Frenchy, who stepped forward slowly and
+deliberately, as if on his way to some bar for a drink.  There was
+something different about the man who had searched the Staked Plain
+with Hopalong and Red: he was not the same puncher who had arrived
+from Montana three weeks before.  There was lacking a certain air of
+carelessness and he chilled his friends, who looked upon him as if
+they had never really known him.  He walked up to Mr. Trendley and
+gazed deeply into the evil eyes.
+
+Twenty years before, Frenchy McAllister had changed his identity
+from a happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care cow-puncher and became a
+machine.  The grief that had torn his soul was not of the kind which
+seeks its outlet in tears and wailing; it had turned and struck
+inward, and now his deliberate ferocity was icy and devilish.  Only a
+glint in his eyes told of exultation, and his words were sharp and
+incisive; one could well imagine one heard the click of his teeth as
+they bit off the consonants: every letter was clear-cut, every
+syllable startling in its clearness.
+
+"Twenty years and two months ago to-day," he began, "you arrived at
+the ranchhouse of the Double Y, up near the Montana-Wyoming line.
+Everything was quiet, except, perhaps, a woman's voice, singing.  You
+entered, and before you left you pinned a note to that woman's dress.
+I found it, and it is due."
+
+The air of carelessness disappeared from the members of the crowd
+and the silence became oppressive.  Most of those present knew parts of
+Frenchy's story, and all were in hearty accord with anything he might
+do.  He reached within his vest and brought forth a deerskin bag.
+Opening it, he drew out a package of oiled silk and from that he took
+a paper.  Carefully replacing the silk and the bag, he slowly unfolded
+the sheet in his hand and handed it to Buck, whose face hardened.  Two
+decades had passed since the foreman of the Bar-20 had seen that
+precious sheet, but the scene of its finding would never fade from his
+memory.  He stood as if carved from stone, with a look on his face that
+made the crowd shift uneasily and glance at Trendley.
+
+Frenchy turned to the rustler and regarded him evilly.  "You are the
+hellish brute that wrote that note," pointing to the paper in the hand
+of his friend.  Then, turning again, he spoke: "Buck, read that paper."
+
+The foreman cleared his throat and read distinctly:
+
+"McAllister: Yore wife is too blame good to live.
+
+                                         TRENDLEY."
+
+There was a shuffling sound, but Buck and Frenchy, silently backed
+up by Hopalong and Red, intervened, and the crowd fell back, where it
+surged in indecision.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Frenchy, "I want you to vote on whether any man
+here has more right to do with Slippery Trendley as he sees fit than
+myself.  Any one who thinks so, or that he should be treated like the
+others, step forward.  Majority rules."
+
+There was no advance and he spoke again: "Is there any one here who
+objects to this man dying?"
+
+Hopalong and Red awkwardly bumped their knuckles against their guns
+and there was no response.
+
+The prisoner was bound with cowhide to the wall of the cabin and
+four men sat near and facing him.  The noonday meal was eaten in
+silence, and the punchers rode off to see about rounding up the cattle
+that grazed over the plain as far as eye could see.  Supper-time came
+and passed, and busy men rode away in all directions.  Others came and
+relieved the guards, and at midnight another squad took up the vigil.
+
+Day broke and the thunder of hoofs as the punchers rounded up the
+cattle became very noticeable.  One herd swept past toward the south,
+guarded and guided by fifteen men.  Two hours later and another
+followed, taking a slightly different trail so as to avoid the close-
+cropped grass left by the first.  At irregular intervals during the day
+other herds swept by, until six had passed and denuded the plain of
+cattle.
+
+Buck, perspiring and dusty, accompanied by Hopalong and Red, rode up
+to where the guards smoked and joked.  Frenchy came out of the cabin
+and smiled at his friends.  Swinging in his left hand was a newly
+filled Colt's .45, which was recognized by his friends as the one
+found in the cabin and it bore a rough "T" gouged in the butt.
+
+Buck looked around and cleared his throat: "We've got th' cows on
+th' home trail, Frenchy," he suggested.
+
+"Yas?"  Inquired Frenchy.  "Are there many?"
+
+"Yas," replied Buck, waving his hand at the guards, ordering them to
+follow their friends.  "It's a good deal for us: we've done right smart
+this hand.  An' it's a good thing we've got so many punchers: we got a
+lot of cattle to drive."
+
+"About five times th' size of th' herd that blamed near made angels
+out'en me an' yu," responded Frenchy with a smile.
+
+"I hope almighty hard that we don't have no stampedes on this here
+drive.  If th' last herds go wild they'll pick up th' others, an' then
+there'll be th' devil to pay."
+
+Frenchy smiled again and shot a glance at where Mr. Trendley was
+bound to the cabin wall.
+
+Buck looked steadily southward for some time and then flecked a
+foam-sud from the flank of his horse.  "We are goin' south along th'
+Creek until we gets to Big Spring, where we'll turn right smart to th'
+west.  We won't be able to average more'n twelve miles a day, `though
+I'm goin' to drive them hard.  How's yore grub?"
+
+"Grub to burn."
+
+"Got yore rope?"  Asked the foreman of the Bar-20, speaking as if the
+question had no especial meaning.
+
+Frenchy smiled: "Yes."
+
+Hopalong absent-mindedly jabbed his spurs into his mount with the
+result that when the storm had subsided the spell was broken and he
+said "So long," and rode south, followed by Buck and Red.  As they
+swept out of sight behind a grove Red turned in his saddle and waved
+his hat.  Buck discussed with assiduity the prospects of a rainfall and
+was very cheerful about the recovery of the stolen cattle.  Red could
+see a tall, broad-shouldered man standing with his feet spread far
+apart, swinging a Colt's .45, and Hopalong swore at everything under
+the sun.  Dust arose in streaming clouds far to the south and they
+spurred forward to overtake the outfits.
+
+Buck Peters, riding over the starlit plain, in his desire to reach
+the first herd, which slept somewhere to the west of him under the
+care of Waffles, thought of the events of the past few weeks and
+gradually became lost in the memories of twenty years before, which
+crowded up before his mind like the notes of a half-forgotten song.
+His nature, tempered by two decades of a harsh existence, softened as
+he lived again the years that had passed and as he thought of the
+things which had been.  He was so completely lost in his reverie that
+he failed to hear the muffled hoofbeats of a horse that steadily
+gained upon him, and when Frenchy McAllister placed a friendly hand on
+his shoulder he started as if from a deep sleep.
+
+The two looked at each other and their hands met.  The question which
+sprang into Buck's eyes found a silent answer in those of his friend.
+They rode on side by side through the clear night and together drifted
+back to the days of the Double Y.
+
+After an hour had passed, the foreman of the Bar-20 turned to his
+companion and then hesitated:
+
+"Did, did-was he a cur?"
+
+Frenchy looked off toward the south and, after an interval, replied:
+"Yas. "Then, as an after thought, he added, "Yu see, he never reckoned
+it would be that way."
+
+Buck nodded, although he did not fully understand, and the subject
+was forever closed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+Mr. Cassidy Meets a Woman
+
+
+The work of separating the cattle into herds of the different brands
+was not a big contract, and with so many men it took but a
+comparatively short time, and in two days all signs of the rustlers
+had faded.  It was then that good news went the rounds and the men
+looked forward to a week of pleasure, which was all the sharper
+accentuated by the grim mercilessness of the expedition into the
+Panhandle.  Here was a chance for unlimited hilarity and a whole week
+in which to give strict attention to celebrating the recent victory.
+
+So one day Mr. Hopalong Cassidy rode rapidly over the plain,
+thinking about the joys and excitement promised by the carnival to be
+held at Muddy Wells.  With that rivalry so common to Western towns the
+inhabitants maintained that the carnival was to break all records,
+this because it was to be held in their town.  Perry's Bend and
+Buckskin had each promoted a similar affair, and if this year's
+festivities were to be an improvement on those which had gone before,
+they would most certainly be worth riding miles to see.  Perry's Bend
+had been unfortunate m being the first to hold a carnival, inasmuch as
+it only set a mark to be improved upon, and Buckskin had taken
+advantage of this and had added a brass band, and now in turn was to
+be eclipsed.
+
+The events slated were numerous and varied, the most important being
+those which dealt directly with the everyday occupations of the
+inhabitants of that section of the country.  Broncho busting, steer-
+roping and tying, rifle and revolver shooting, trick riding and fancy
+roping made up the main features of the programme and were to be set
+off by horse and foot racing and other county fair necessities.
+Altogether, the proud citizens of the town looked forward with keen
+anticipation to the coming excitements, and were prone to swagger a
+bit and to rub their hands in condescending egoism, while the crowded
+gambling halls and saloons, and the three-card-monte men on the street
+corners enriched themselves at the cost of venturesome know-it-ails.
+
+Hopalong was firmly convinced that his day of hard riding was well
+worth while, for the Bar-2o was to be represented in strength.
+Probably a clearer insight into his idea of a carnival can be gained
+by his definition, grouchily expressed to Red Connors on the day
+following the last affair: "Raise cain, go broke, wake up an' begin
+punching cows all over again." But that was the day after and the day
+after is always filled with remorse.
+
+Hopalong and Red, having twice in succession won the revolver and
+rifle competitions, respectively, hoped to make it `Three straight.'
+Lanky Smith, the Bar-20 rope expert, had taken first prize in the only
+contest he had entered.  Skinny Thompson had lost and drawn with Lefty
+Allen, of the O-Bar-O, in the broncho-busting event, but as Skinny had
+improved greatly in the interval, his friends confidently expected him
+to "yank first place" for the honor of his ranch.
+These expectations were backed with all the available Bar-20 money, and,
+if they were not realized, something in the nature of a calamity would swoop
+down upon and wrap that ranch in gloom. Since the O-Bar-O was
+aggressively optimistic the betting was at even money, hats and guns, and the
+losers would begin life anew so far as earthly possessions were
+concerned. No other competitors were considered in this event, as
+Skinny and Lefty had so far outclassed all others that the honor was
+believed to lie between these two.
+
+Hopalong, blissfully figuring out the chances of the different
+contestants, galloped around a clump of mesquite only fifteen miles
+from Muddy Wells and stiffened in his saddle, for twenty rods ahead of
+him on the trail was a woman.  As she heard him approach she turned and
+waited for him to overtake her, and when she smiled he raised his
+sombrero and bowed.
+
+"Will you please tell me where I am?"  She asked.
+
+"Yu are fifteen miles southeast of Muddy Wells," he replied.
+
+"But which is southeast?"
+
+"Right behind yu," he answered.  "Th' town lies right ahead."
+
+"Are you going there?"  She asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Then you will not care if I ride with you?"  She asked. "I am a
+trifle frightened."
+
+"Why, I'd be some pleased if yu do, `though there ain't nothing out
+here to be afraid of now."
+
+"I had no intention of getting lost," she assured him, "but I
+dismounted to pick flowers and cactus leaves and after a while I had
+no conception of where I was."
+
+"How is it yu are out here?"  He asked. "Yu shouldn't get so far from
+town."
+
+"Why, papa is an invalid and doesn't like to leave his room, and the
+town is so dull, although the carnival is waking it up somewhat.
+Having nothing to do I procured a horse and determined to explore the
+country.  Why, this is like Stanley and Livingstone, isn't it?  You
+rescued the explorer!" And she laughed heartily.  He wondered who in
+thunder Stanley and Livingstone were, but said nothing.
+
+"I like the West, it is so big and free," she continued.  "But it is
+very monotonous at times, especially when compared with New York.  Papa
+swears dreadfully at the hotel and declares that the food will drive
+him insane, but I notice that he eats much more heartily than he did
+when in the city.  And the service!-it is awful.  But when one leaves
+the town behind it is splendid, and I can appreciate it because I had
+such a hard season in the city last winter-so many balls, parties and
+theaters that I simply wore myself out."
+
+"I never hankered much for them things," Hopalong replied.  "An' I
+don't like th' towns much, either.  Once or twice a year I gets as far
+as Kansas City, but I soon tires of it an' hits th' back trail.  Yu
+see, I don't like a fence country-I wants lots of room an' air.
+
+She regarded him intently: "I know that you will think me very
+forward."
+
+He smiled and slowly replied: "I think yu are all O. K."
+
+"There do not appear to be many women in this country," she
+suggested.
+
+"No, there ain't many," he replied, thinking of the kind to be found
+in all of the cow-towns.  "They don't seem to hanker for this kind of
+life-they wants parties an' lots of dancin' an' them kind of things.  I
+reckon there ain't a whole lot to tempt em to come.
+
+"You evidently regard women as being very frivolous," she replied.
+
+"Well, I'm speakin' from there not being any out here," he
+responded, "although I don't know much about them, to tell th' truth.
+Them what are out here can't be counted."  Then he flushed and looked
+away.
+
+She ignored the remark and placed her hand to her hair:
+
+"Goodness! My hair must look terrible!"
+
+He turned and looked: "Yore hair is pretty-I allus did like brown
+hair."
+
+She laughed and put back the straggling locks: "It is terrible! Just
+look at it! Isn't it awful?"
+
+"Why, no: I reckons not," he replied critically.  "It looks sort of
+free an' easy thataway."
+
+"Well, it's no matter, it cannot be helped," she laughed.  "Let's
+race!" she cried and was off like a shot.
+
+He humored her until he saw that her mount was getting unmanageable,
+when he quietly overtook her and closed her pony's nostrils with his
+hand, the operation having a most gratifying effect.
+
+"Joe hadn't oughter let yu had this cayuse," he said.
+
+"Why, how do you know of whom I procured it?"  She asked. "By th'
+brand: it's a O-Bar-O, canceled, with J. H. over it.  He buys all of
+his cayuses from th' O-Bar-O."
+
+She found out his name, and, after an interval of silence, she
+turned to him with eyes full of inquiry: "What is that thorny shrub
+just ahead?"  She asked.
+
+"That's mesquite," he replied eagerly.
+
+"Tell me all about it," she commanded.
+
+"Why, there ain't much to tell," he replied, "only it's a valuable
+tree out here.  Th' Apaches use it a whole lot of ways.  They get honey
+from th' blossoms an' glue an' gum, an' they use th' bark for tannin'
+hide.  Th' dried pods an' leaves are used to feed their cattle, an' th'
+wood makes corrals to keep `em in.  They use th' wood for making other
+things, too, an' it is of two colors. Th' sap makes a dye what won't
+wash out, an' th' beans make a bread what won't sour or get hard.  Then
+it makes a barrier that shore is a dandy-coyotes an' men can't get
+through it, an' it protects a whole lot of birds an' things.  Th'
+snakes hate it like poison, for th' thorns get under their scales an'
+whoops things up for `em. It keeps th' sand from shiftin', too.  Down
+South where there is plenty of water, it often grows forty feet high,
+but up here it squats close to th' ground so it can save th' moisture.
+In th' night th' temperature sometimes falls thirty degrees, an' that
+helps it, too."
+
+"How can it live without water?"  She asked.
+
+"It gets all th' water it wants," he replied, smiling.  "Th' tap
+roots go straight down `til they find it, sometimes fifty feet.  That's
+why it don't shrivel up in th' sun.  Then there are a lot of little
+roots right under it an' they protects th' tap roots.  Th' shade it
+gives is th' coolest out here, for th' leaves turn with th' wind an'
+lets th' breeze through-they're hung on little stems."
+
+"How splendid!" she exclaimed.  "Oh! Look there!" she cried, pointing
+ahead of them.  A chaparral cock strutted from its decapitated enemy, a
+rattlesnake, and disappeared in the chaparral.
+
+Hopalong laughed: "Mr. Scissors-bill Road-runner has great fun with
+snakes.  He runs along th' sand-an' he can run, too- an' sees a snake
+takin' a siesta. Snip! goes his bill an' th' snake slides over th'
+Divide.  Our fighting friend may stop some coyote's appetite before
+morning, though, unless he stays where he is."
+
+Just then a gray wolf blundered in sight a few rods ahead of them,
+and Hopalong fired instantly.  His companion shrunk from him and looked
+at him reproachfully.
+
+"Why did you do that!" she demanded.
+
+"Why, because they costs us big money every year," he replied.
+"There's a bounty on them because they pull down calves, an' sometimes
+full grown cows.  I'm shore wonderin' why he got so close-they're
+usually just out of range, where they stays."
+
+"Promise me that you will shoot no more while I am with you.
+
+"Why, shore: I didn't think yu'd care," he replied.  "Yu are like
+that sky-pilot over to Las Cruces-he preached agin killin' things,
+which is all right for him, who didn't have no cows."
+
+"Do you go to the missions?"  She asked.
+
+He replied that he did, sometimes, but forgot to add that it was
+usually for the purpose of hilarity, for he regarded sky-pilots with
+humorous toleration.
+
+"Tell me all about yourself-what you do for enjoyment and all about
+your work," she requested.
+
+He explained in minute detail the art of punching cows, and told her
+more of the West in half an hour than she could have learned from a
+year's experience.  She showed such keen interest in his words that it
+was a pleasure to talk to her, and he monopolized the conversation
+until the town intruded its sprawling collection of unpainted shacks
+and adobe huts in their field of vision.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+The Strategy of Mr. Peters
+
+
+Hopalong and his companion rode into Muddy Wells at noon, and Red Connors,
+who leaned with Buck Peters against the side of Tom Lee's saloon, gasped his
+astonishment.  Buck looked twice to be sure, and then muttered incredulously:
+"What th' heck!" Red repeated the phrase and retreated within the saloon,
+while Buck stood his ground, having had much experience with women, inasmuch
+as he had narrowly escaped marrying.  He thought that he might as well get all
+the information possible, and waited for an introduction.  It was in vain,
+however, for the two rode past without noticing him.
+
+Buck watched them turn the corner and then called for Red to come out, but
+that person, fearing an ordeal, made no reply and the foreman went in after
+him.  The timorous one was corraling bracers at the bar and nearly swallowed
+down the wrong channel when Buck placed a heavy hand on his broad shoulder.
+
+"G'way!" remarked Red. "I don't want no introduction, none whatever," he
+asserted. "G'way!" he repeated, backing off suspiciously.
+
+"Better wait `til yu are asked," suggested Buck.  "Better wait `til yu sees
+th' rope afore yu duck."  Then he laughed: "Yu bashful fellers make me plumb
+disgusted. Why, I've seen yu face a bunch of guns an never turn a hair, an'
+here yore all in because yu fear yu'll have to stand around an' hide yore
+hands.  She won't bite yu.  Anyway, from what I saw, Hopalong is due to be her
+grub-he never saw me at all, th' chump."
+
+"He shore didn't see me, none," replied Red with distinct relief.  "Are they
+gone?"
+
+"Shore," answered Buck.  "An' if they wasn't they wouldn't see us, not if we
+stood in front of them an' yelled.  She's a hummer-stands two hands under him
+an' is a whole lot prettier than that picture Cowan has got over his bar.
+There's nothing th' matter with his eyesight, but he's plumb locoed, all th'
+same.  He'll go an' get stuck on her an' then she'll hit th' trail for home
+an' mamma, an' he won't be worth his feed for a year."  Then he paused in
+consternation: "Thunder, Red: he's got to shoot to-morrow!"
+
+"Well, suppose he has?"  Responded Red.  "I don't reckon she'll stampede his
+gun-play none.
+
+"Yu don't reckon, eh?"  Queried Buck with much irony.  "No, an' that's what's
+th' matter with yu.  Why, do yu expect to see him to-morrow?  Yu won't if I
+knows him an' I reckon I do.  Nope, he'll be follerin' her all around."
+
+"He's got sand to burn," remarked Red in awe.  "Wonder how he got to know
+her?"
+
+"Yu can gamble she did th' introducing part-he ain't got th' nerve to do it
+himself. He saved her life, or she thinks he did, or some romantic nonsense
+like that.  So yu better go around an' get him away, an' keep him away, too."
+
+"Who, me?"  Inquired Red in indignation.  "Me go around an' tote him off?  I
+ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny."
+
+"Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle of
+next week for it.  He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself," responded
+Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
+
+"Hey, yu! Wait a minute!" cried Red in consternation.  Buck paused and Red
+groped for an excuse: "Why don't you send Billy?"  He blurted in desperation.
+
+The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his thigh in
+joy: "Good boy!" he laughed.  "Billy's th' man-good Lord, but won't he give
+Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic soul to me."
+
+Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, "Hey,
+Billy!" and proceeded to the next one.  He was getting pugnacious at his lack
+of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the accidental
+street as if he owned it.  Mr. Williams was executing fancy steps and was
+trying to sing many songs at once.
+
+Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to
+starboard: "Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!" he exclaimed.
+
+Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his displeasure at
+this unwarranted action: "I ain't no wife-deserter!" he shouted.  "Unrope me
+an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me! "Then he recognized his
+friend and grinned joyously:  "Shore I will, but only one.  Jus' one more, jus'
+one more.  Yu see, m'friend, it was all Jimmy's fault. He-"
+
+Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating friend
+to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.
+
+"This yere," said Red in belligerent disgust, "is th' dod-blasted hero
+what's a-goin' to save Hopalong from a mournful future.  What are we a-goin'
+to do?"
+
+Buck slipped the Colt's from Billy's holster and yanked the erring one to
+his feet:  "Fill him full of sweet oil, source him in th' trough, walk him
+around for awhile an' see what it does," he ordered.
+
+Two hours later Billy walked up to his foreman and weakly asked what was
+wanted.  He looked as though he had just been released from a six-months' stay
+in a hospital.
+
+"Yu go over to th' hotel an' find Hopalong," said the foreman sternly.  "Stay
+with him all th' time, for there is a plot on foot to wing him on th' sly.  If
+yu ain't mighty spry he'll be dead by night."
+
+Having delivered the above instructions and prevarications, Buck throttled
+the laugh which threatened to injure him and scowled at Red, who again fled
+into the saloon for fear of spoiling it all with revealed mirth.
+
+The convalescent stared in open-mouthed astonishment:
+
+"What's he doin' in th' hotel, an' who's goin' to plug him?"  He asked.
+
+"Yu leave that to me," replied Buck, "All yu has to do is to get on th' job
+with yore gun," handing the weapon to him, "an' freeze to him like a flea on
+a cow.  Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't none of yore
+funeral-yu do what I said."
+
+"Blast th' women!" exploded Billy, moving off.  When he had entered the hotel
+Buck went in to Red.
+
+"For Pete's sake!" moaned that person in senseless reiteration.  "Th' Lord
+help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!" he shouted.  "Gimme a drink an' let me tell th'
+boys."
+
+The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their
+uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them.
+
+Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring the
+desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6.
+Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and
+entered.
+
+He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young woman, and
+on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly white-whiskered
+gentleman who was reading a magazine.  Billy felt like a criminal for a few
+seconds and then there came to him the thought that his was a mission of
+great import and he braced himself to face any ordeal.  "Anyway," he thought,
+"th' prettier they are th' more dust they can raise."
+
+"What are yu doing here?"  Cried Hopalong in amazement.
+
+"That's all right," averred the protector, confidentially.
+
+"What's all right?"
+
+"Why, everything," replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable.
+
+The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw the
+armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth.   He felt for his
+spectacles, but did not need them, for he could see nothing but the Colt's
+which Billy jabbed at him.
+
+"None of that!" snapped Billy. "`Nds up!" he ordered, and the hands Went up
+so quick that when they stopped the jerk shook the room.  Peering over the
+gentleman's leg, Billy saw the spectacles and backed to the wall as he
+apologized: "It's shore on me, Stranger-I reckoned yu was contemplatin' some
+gun-play."
+
+Hopalong, blazing with wrath, arose and shoved Billy toward the hail, when
+Mr. Johnny Nelson, oozing fight and importance, intruded his person into the
+zone of action.
+
+"Lord!" ejaculated the newcomer, staring at the vision of female loveliness
+which so suddenly greeted him.  "Mamma," he added under his breath.  Then he
+tore off his sombrero:  "Come out of this, Billy, yu chump!" he exploded,
+backing toward the door, being followed by the protector.
+
+Hopalong slammed the door and turned to his hostess, apologizing for the
+disturbance.
+
+"Who are they?"  Palpitated Miss Deane.
+
+"What the deuce are they doing up here!" blazed her father.  Hopalong
+disclaimed any knowledge of them and just then Billy opened the door and
+looked in.
+
+"There he is again!" cried Miss Deane, and her father gasped.  Hopalong ran
+out into the hall and narrowly missed kicking Billy into Kingdom Come as that
+person slid down the stairs, surprised and indignant.
+
+Mr. Billy Williams, who sat at the top of the stairs, was feeling hungry and
+thirsty when he saw his friend, Mr. Pete Wilson, the slow witted,
+approaching.
+
+"Hey, Pete," he called, "come up here an' watch this door while I rustles
+some grub.  Keep yore eyes open," he cautioned.
+
+As Pete began to feel restless the door opened and a dignified gentleman
+with white whiskers came out into the hall and then retreated with great
+haste and no dignity.  Pete got the drop on the door and waited.  Hopalong
+yanked it open and kissed the muzzle of the weapon before he could stop, and
+Pete grinned.
+
+"Coming to th' fight?"  He loudly asked.  "It's going to be a shore `nough
+sumptious scrap-just th' kind yu allus like.  Come on, th' boys are waitin'
+for yu."
+
+"Keep quiet!" hissed Hopalong.
+
+"What for?"  Asked Pete in surprise.  "Didn't yu say yu shore wanted to see
+that scrap?"
+
+"Shut yore face an' get scarce, or yu'll go home in cans!"
+
+As Hopalong seated himself once more Red strolled up to the door and
+knocked.  Hopalong ripped it open and Red, looking as fierce and worried as he
+could, asked Hopalong if he was all right.  Upon being assured by smoking
+adjectives that he was, the caller looked relieved and turned thoughtfully
+away.
+
+"Hey, yu! Come here!" called Hopalong.
+
+Red waved his hand and said that he had to meet a man and clattered down the
+stairs.  Hopalong thought that he, also, had to meet a man and, excusing
+himself, hastened after his friend and overtook him in the Street, where he
+forced a confession.  Returning to his hostess he told her of the whole
+outrage, and she was angry at first, but seeing the humorous side of it, she
+became convulsed with laughter.  Her father re-read his paragraph for the
+thirteenth time and then, slamming the magazine on the floor, asked how many
+times he was expected to read ten lines before he knew what was in them, and
+went down to the bar.
+
+Miss Deane regarded her companion with laughing eyes and then became
+suddenly sober as he came toward her.
+
+"Go to your foreman and tell him that you will shoot to-morrow, for I will
+see that you do, and I will bring luck to the Bar-20. Be sure to call for me
+at one o'clock: I will be ready."
+
+He hesitated, bowed, and slowly departed, making his way to Tom Lee's, where
+his entrance hushed the hilarity which had reigned.  Striding to where Buck
+stood, he placed his hands on his hips and searched the foreman's eyes.
+
+Buck smiled: "Yu ain't mad, are yu?"  He asked.
+
+Hopalong relaxed: "No, but blame near it."
+
+Red and the others grabbed him from the rear, and when he had been
+"buffaloed" into good humor he threw them from him, laughed and waved his
+hand toward the bar:
+
+"Come up, yu sons-of-guns.  Yore a cussed nuisance sometimes, but yore a
+bully gang all th' same."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
+
+
+Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a
+dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro
+and monte.  The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was
+flush.  This pleasing opulence was due to his business ability, for he
+had recently sold a claim for several thousand dollars.  The first
+operation was simple, being known in Western phraseology as "jumping";
+and the second, somewhat more complicated, was known as "salting."
+
+The first of the money spent went for a complete new outfit, and he
+had parted with just three hundred and seventy dollars to feed his
+vanity.  He desired something contrasty and he procured it.  His
+sombrero, of gray felt a quarter of an inch thick, flaunted a band of
+black leather, on which was conspicuously displayed a solid silver
+buckle.  His neck was protected by a crimson kerchief of the finest,
+heaviest silk.  His shirt, in pattern the same as those commonly worn
+in the cow country, was of buckskin, soft as a baby's cheek and
+impervious to water, and the Angora goatskin chaps, with the long
+silken hair worn outside, were as white as snow.  Around his waist ran
+loosely a broad, black leather belt supporting a heavy black holster,
+in which lay its walnut-handled burden, a .44 caliber six-shooter; and
+thirty center-fire cartridges peeked from their loops, fifteen on a
+side.  His boots, the soles thin and narrow and the heels high, were
+black and of the finest leather.  Huge spurs, having two-inch rowels,
+were held in place by buckskin straps, on which, also, were silver
+buckles.  Protecting his hands were heavy buckskin gloves, also
+waterproof, having wide, black gauntlets.
+
+Each dainty hock of his dainty eight-hundred-pound buckskin pony was
+black, and a black star graced its forehead.  Well groomed, with
+flowing mane and tail, and with the brand on its flank being almost
+imperceptible, the animal was far different in appearance from most of
+the cow-ponies.  Vicious and high-spirited, it cavorted just enough to
+show its lines to the best advantage.
+
+
+The saddle, a famous Cheyenne and forty pounds in weight, was black,
+richly embossed, and decorated with bits of beaten silver which
+flashed back the sunlight.  At the pommel hung a thirty-foot coil of
+braided horsehair rope, and at the rear was a Sharp's .50-caliber,
+breech-loading rifle, its owner having small use for any other make.
+The color of the bridle was the same as the saddle and it supported a
+heavy U bit which was capable of a leverage sufficient to break the
+animal's jaw.
+
+Tex was proud of his outfit, but his face wore a frown-not there
+only on acount of his losses, but also by reason of his mission, for
+under all his finery beat a heart as black as any in the cow country.
+For months he had smothered hot hatred and he was now on his way to
+ease himself of it.
+
+He and Slim Travennes had once exchanged shots with Hopalong in
+Santa Fe, and the month which he had spent in bed was not pleasing,
+and from that encounter had sprung the hatred.  That he had been in the
+wrong made no difference with him.  Some months later he had learned of
+the death of Slim, and it was due to the same man.  That Slim had again
+been in the wrong also made no difference, for he realized the fact
+and nothing else.
+
+Lately he had been told of the death of Slippery
+Trendley and Deacon Rankin, and he accepted their passing as a
+personal affront.  That they had been caught red-handed in cattle
+stealing of huge proportions and received only what was customary
+under the conditions formed no excuse in his mind for their passing.
+He was now on his way to attend the carnival at Muddy Wells, knowing
+that his enemy would be sure to be there.
+
+While passing through Las Cruces he met Porous Johnson and Silent
+Somes, who were thirsty and who proclaimed that fact, whereupon he
+relieved them of their torment and, looking forward to more treatment
+of a similar nature, they gladly accompanied him without asking why or
+where.
+
+As they left the town in their rear Tex turned in his saddle and
+surveyed them with a cynical smile.
+
+"Have yu heard anything of Trendley?"  He asked.
+
+They shook their heads.
+
+`Him an' th' Deacon was killed over in th' Panhandle," he said.
+
+"What!" chorused the pair.
+
+"Jack Dorman, Shorty Danvers, Charley Teale, Stiffhat Bailey, Billy
+Jackson, Terry Nolan an' Sailor Carson was lynched."
+
+"What!" they shouted.
+
+"Fish O'Brien, Pinochle Schmidt, Tom Wilkins, Apache Gordon, Charley
+of th' Bar Y, Penobscot Hughes an' about twenty others died fightin'."
+
+Porous looked his astonishment: "Cavalry?"
+
+"An' I'm going after th' dogs who did it," he continued, ignoring
+the question.  "Are yu with me ? -Yu used to pal with some of them,
+didn't yu?"
+
+"We did, an' we're shore with yu!" cried Porous.
+
+"Yore right," endorsed Silent.  "But who done it?"
+
+"That gang what's punchin' for th' Bar-20-Hopalong Cassidy is th'
+one I'm pining for.  Yu fellers can take care of Peters an' Connors."
+
+The two stiffened and exchanged glances of uncertainty and
+apprehension.  The outfit of the Bar-20 was too well known to cause
+exuberant joy to spring from the idea of war with it, and well in the
+center of all the tales concerning it were the persons Tex had named.
+To deliberately set forth with the avowed intention of planting these
+was not at all calculated to induce sweet dreams.
+
+Tex sneered his contempt.
+
+"Yore shore uneasy: yu ain't a-scared, are yu?"  He drawled.  Porous
+relaxed and made a show of subduing his horse: "I reckon I ain't
+scared plumb to death.  Yu can deal me a hand," he asserted.
+
+"I'll draw cards too," hastily announced Silent, buttoning his vest.
+"Tell us about that jamboree over in th' Panhandle."
+
+Tex repeated the story as he had heard it from a bibulous member of
+the Barred Horseshoe, and then added a little of torture as a sauce to
+whet their appetites for revenge.
+
+"How did Trendley cash in?"  Asked Porous.
+
+"Nobody knows except that bum from th' Tin-Cup.  I'll get him later.
+I'd a got Cassidy up in Santa Fe, too, if it wasn't for th' sun in my
+eyes.  Me an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see
+nothing with him a-standin' against th' sun."
+
+"Where's Slim now?"  Asked Porous.  "I ain't seen him for some time."
+
+"Slim's with Trendley," replied Tex.  "Cassidy handed him over to St.
+Pete at Cactus Springs. Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an'
+his vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town
+plumb off th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own
+account.  I'll prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long.  It's
+cost me seventeen friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or
+make another."
+
+They entered Muddy Wells at sunrise on the day of the carnival and,
+eating a hearty breakfast, sallied forth to do their share toward
+making the festivities a success.
+
+The first step considered necessary for the acquirement of case and
+polish was begun at the nearest bar, and Tex, being the host, was so
+liberal that his friends had reached a most auspicious state when they
+followed him to Tom Lee's.
+
+Tex was too wise to lose his head through drink and had taken only
+enough to make him careless of consequences.  Porous was determined to
+sing "Annie Laurie," although he hung on the last word of the first
+line until out of breath and then began anew.  Silent, not wishing to
+be outdone, bawled at the top of his lungs a medley of music-hall
+words to the air of a hymn.
+
+Tex, walking as awkwardly as any cow-puncher, approached Tom Lee's,
+his two friends trailing erratically, arm in arm, in his rear.
+Swinging his arm he struck the door a resounding blow and entered,
+hand on gun, as it crashed back.  Porous and Silent stood in the
+doorway and quarreled as to what each should drink and, compromising,
+lurched in and seated themselves on a table and resumed their vocal
+perpetrations.
+
+Tex swaggered over to the bar and tossed a quarter upon it:  "Corn
+juice," he laconically exclaimed. Tossing off the liquor and glancing
+at his howling friends, he shrugged his shoulders and strode out by
+the rear door, slamming it after him.  Porous and Silent, recounting
+friends who had "cashed in" fell to weeping and they were thus
+occupied when Hopalong and Buck entered, closely followed by the rest
+of the outfit.
+
+Buck walked to the bar and was followed by Hopalong, who declined
+his foreman's offer to treat.  Tom Lee set a bottle at Buck's elbow and
+placed his hands against the bar.
+
+"Friend of yourn just hit the back trail," he remarked to Hopalong.
+"He was primed some for trouble, too," he added.
+
+"Yaas?"  Drawled Hopalong with little interest.
+
+The proprietor restacked the few glasses and wiped off the bar.
+"Them's his pardners," he said, indicating the pair on the table.
+
+Hopalong turned his head and gravely scrutinized them.  Porous was
+bemoaning the death of Slim Travennes and Hopalong frowned.
+
+"Don't reckon he's no relation of mine," he grunted.
+
+"Well, he ain't yore sister," replied Tom Lee, grinning.
+
+"What's his brand?"  Asked the puncher.
+
+"I reckon he's a maverick, `though yu put yore brand on him up to
+Santa Fe a couple of years back.  Since he's throwed back on yore range
+I reckon he's yourn if yu wants him."
+
+"I reckon Tex is some sore," remarked Hopalong, rolling a cigarette.
+
+"I reckon he is," replied the proprietor, tossing Buck's quarter in
+the cash box.  "But, say, you should oughter see his rig."
+
+"Yaas?"
+
+"He's shore a cow-punch dude-my, but he's some sumptious an'
+highfalutin'. An' bad?  Why, he reckons th' Lord never brewed a more
+high-toned brand of cussedness than his'n.  He shore reckons he's the
+baddest man that ever simmered."
+
+"How'd he look as th' leadin' man in a necktie festival?"  Blazed
+Johnny from across the room, feeling called upon to help the
+conversation.
+
+"He'd be a howlin' success, son," replied Skinny Thompson, "judgin'
+by his friends what we elevated over in th' Panhandle."
+
+Lanky Smith leaned forward with his elbow on the table, resting his
+chin in the palm of his hand: "Is Ewalt still a-layin' for yu,
+Hopalong?"  He asked.
+
+Hopalong turned wearily and tossed his half-consumed cigarette into
+the box of sand which did duty as a cuspidore: "I reckon so; an' he
+shore can hatch whenever he gets good an ready, too."
+
+"He's probably a-broodin' over past grievances," offered Johnny, as
+he suddenly pushed Lanky's elbow from the table, nearly causing a
+catastrophe.
+
+"Yu'll be broodin' over present grievances if yu don't look out, yu
+everlastin' nuisance yu," growled Lanky, planting his elbow in its
+former position with an emphasis which conveyed a warning.
+
+"These bantams ruflle my feathers," remarked Red.  "They go around
+braggin' about th' egg they're goin' to lay an' do enough cacklin' to
+furnish music for a dozen.  Then when th' affair comes off yu'll
+generally find they's been settin' on a door-knob."
+
+"Did yu ever see a hen leave th' walks of peace an' bugs an' rustle
+hell-bent across th' trail plumb in front of a cayuse?"  Asked Buck.
+"They'll leave off rustlin' grub an' become candidates for th'
+graveyard just for cussedness.  Well, a whole lot of men are th' same
+way. How many times have I seen them swagger into a gin shop an' try
+to run things sudden an' hard, an' that with half a dozen better men
+in th' same room?  There's shore a-plenty of trouble a-comin' to every
+man without rustlin' around for more.
+
+"`Member that time yu an' Frenchy tried to run th' little town of
+Frozen Nose, up in Montana?"  Asked Johnny, winking at the rest.
+
+"An' we did run it, for a while," responded Buck.  "But that only
+goes to show that most young men are chumps-we were just about yore
+age then."
+
+Red laughed at the youngster's discomfiture: "That little squib of
+yourn shore touched her off-I reckon we irrigates on yu this time,
+don't we?"
+
+"Th' more th' Kid talks, th' more money he needs," remarked Lanky,
+placing his glass on the bar.  "He had to blow me an' Skinny twice last
+night."
+
+"I got two more after yu left," added Skinny "He shore oughter
+practice keeping still."
+
+At one o'clock sharp Hopalong walked up to the clerk of the hotel
+and grinned. The clerk looked up:
+
+ "Hullo, Cassidy?"  He exclaimed, genially. "What was all that fuss
+about this mornin' when I was away?  I haven't seen you for a long
+time, have I?  How are you?"
+
+"That fuss was a fool joke of Buck's, an' I wish they had been
+throwed out," Hopalong replied.  "What I want to know is if Miss Deane
+is in her room.  Yu see, I have a date with her."
+
+The clerk grinned:
+
+"So she's roped you, too, has she?"
+
+"What do yu mean?"  Asked Hopalong in surprise.  "Well, well," laughed
+the clerk.  "You punchers are easy.  Any third-rate actress that looks
+good to eat can rope you fellows, all right.  Now look here, Laura, you
+keep shy of her corral, or you'll be broke so quick you won't believe
+you ever had a cent: that's straight.  This is the third year that she's been here
+and I know what I'm talking about.  How did you come to meet her?"
+
+Hopalong explained the meeting and his friend laughed again:
+
+"Why, she knows this country like a book.  She can't get lost
+anywhere around here.  But she's blame clever at catching punchers."
+
+"Well, I reckon I'd better take her, go broke or not," replied
+Hopalong.  "Is she in her room?"
+
+"She is, but she is not alone," responded the clerk.  "There is a
+dude puncher up there with her and she left word here that she was
+indisposed, which means that you are outlawed."
+
+"Who is he?"  Asked Hopalong, having his suspicions.  "That friend of
+yours: Ewalt.  He sported a wad this morning when she passed him, and
+she let him make her acquaintance.  He's another easy mark.  He'll be
+busted wide open to-night."
+
+"I reckon I'll see Tex," suggested Hopalong, starting for the
+stairs.
+
+"Come back, you chump!" cried the clerk.  "I don't want any shooting
+here.  What do you care about it?  Let her have him, for it's an easy
+way out of it for you.  Let him think he's cut you out, for he'll spend
+all the more freely.  Get your crowd and enlighten them-it'll be better
+than a circus.  This may sound like a steer, but it's straight."
+
+Hopalong thought for a minute and then leaned on the cigar case:
+
+"I reckon I'll take about a dozen of yore very best cigars, Charley.
+Got any real high-toned brands?"
+
+"Cortez panatella-two for a simoleon," Chancy replied.  "But, seein'
+that it's you, I'll throw off a dollar on a dozen.  They're a fool
+notion of the old man, for we can't sell one in a month."
+
+Hopalong dug up a handful and threw one on the counter, lighting
+another: "Yu light a Cortez panatella with me," he said, pocketing the
+remainder.  "That's five simoleons she didn't get.  So long."
+
+He journeyed to Tom Lee's and found his outfit making merry.  Passing
+around his cigars he leaned against the bar and delighted in the first
+really good smoke he had since he came home from Kansas City.
+
+Johnny Nelson blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling and paused with a
+pleased expression on his face:
+
+"This is a lalapoloosa of a cigar," he cried.  "Where'd yu get it,
+an' how many's left?"
+
+"I got it from Charley, an' there's more than yu can buy at fifty a
+shot."
+
+"Well, I'll just take a few for luck," Johnny responded, running out
+into the street. Returning in five minutes with both hands full of
+cigars he passed them around and grinned:
+"They're birds, all right!"
+
+Hopalong smiled, turned to Buck and related his conversation with
+Chancy.  "What do yu think of that?"  He asked as he finished.
+
+"I think Charley oughter be yore guardian," replied the foreman.
+
+"He was," replied Hopalong.
+
+"If we sees Tex we'll all grin hard," laughed Red, making for the
+door.  "Come on to th' contests-Lanky's gone already."
+
+Muddy Wells streamed to the carnival grounds and relieved itself of
+its enthusiasm and money at the booths on the way.  Cow-punchers rubbed
+elbows with Indians and Mexicans, and the few tourists that were
+present were delighted with the picturesque scene.  The town was full
+of fakirs and before one of them stood a group of cow-punchers,
+apparently drinking in the words of a barker.
+
+"Right this way, gents, and see the woman who don't eat.  Lived for
+two years without food, gents.  Right this way, gents.  Only a quarter
+of a dollar.  Get your tickets, gents, and see-"
+
+Red pushed forward:
+
+"What did yu say, pard?"  He asked.  "I'm a little off in my near ear.
+What's that about eatin' a woman for two years?"
+
+"The greatest wonder of the age, gents.  The wom-"
+
+"Any discount for th' gang?"  Asked Buck, gawking.
+
+"Why don't yu quit smokin' an' buy th' lady a meal?"  Asked Johnny
+from the center of the group.
+
+"Th' cane yu ring th' cane yu get!" came from the other side of the
+street and Hopalong purchased rings for the outfit.  Twenty-four rings
+got one cane, and it was divided between them as they wended their way
+toward the grounds.
+
+"That makes six wheels she didn't get," murmured Hopalong.  As they
+passed the snake charmer's booth they saw Tex and his companion ahead
+of them in the crowd, and they grinned broadly.  "I like th' front row
+in th' balcony," remarked Johnny, who had been to Kansas City. "Don't
+cry in th' second act-it ain't real," laughed Red.  "We'll hang John
+Brown on a sour appletree-in th' Panhandle," sang Skinny as they
+passed them.
+
+Arriving at the grounds they hunted up the registration committee
+and entered in the contests.  As Hopalong signed for the revolver
+competition he was rudely pushed aside and Tex wrote his name under
+that of his enemy.  Hopalong was about to show quick resentment for the
+insult, but thought of what Charley had said, and he grinned
+sympathetically. The seats were filling rapidly, and the outfit went
+along the ground looking for friends.  A bugle sounded and a hush swept
+over the crowd as the announcement was made for the first event.
+
+"Broncho-busting-Red Devil, never ridden: Frenchy McAllister, Tin-
+Cup, Montana; Meteor, killed his man: Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, Texas;
+Vixen, never ridden: Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, Texas."
+
+All eyes were focused on the plain where the horse was being led out
+for the first trial.  After the usual preliminaries had been gone
+through Frenchy walked over to it, vaulted in the saddle and the
+bandage was torn from the animal's eyes.  For ten minutes the onlookers
+were held spellbound by the fight before them, and then the horse
+kicked and galloped away and Frenchy was picked up and carried from
+the field.
+
+"Too bad!" cried Buck, running from the outfit.
+
+"Did yu see it?" asked Johnny excitedly, "Th' cinch busted."  Another
+horse was led out and Skinny Thompson vaulted to the saddle, and after
+a fight of half an hour rode the animal from the enclosure to the
+clamorous shouts of his friends.  Lefty Allen also rode his mount from
+the same gate, but took ten minutes more in which to do it.
+
+The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped
+forward: "First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten
+seconds; second, Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven
+seconds."
+
+Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if
+he had just won a championship.  They made way for him, and Johnny, who
+could not restrain his enthusiasm pounded him on the back and cried:
+"Yu old son-of-a-gun!"
+
+The announcer again came forward and gave out the competitors for
+the next contest, steer-roping and tying.  Lanky Smith arose and,
+coiling his rope carefully, disappeared into the crowd.  The fun was
+not so great in this, but when he returned to his outfit with the
+phenomenal time of six minutes and eight seconds for his string of ten
+steers, with twenty-two seconds for one of them, they gave him
+vociferous greeting.  Three of his steers had gotten up after he had
+leaped from his saddle to tie them, but his horse had taken care of
+that.  His nearest rival was one minute over him and Lanky retained the
+championship.
+
+Red Connors shot with such accuracy in the rifle contest as to run
+his points twenty per cent higher than Waffles, of the O-Bar-O, and
+won the new rifle.
+
+The main interest centered in the revolver contest, for it was known
+that the present champion was to defend his title against an enemy and
+fears were expressed in the crowd that there would be an "accident."
+Buck Peters and Red stood just behind the firing line with their hands
+on hips, and Tex, seeing the precautions, smiled grimly as he advanced
+to the line.
+
+Six bottles, with their necks an inch above a board, stood twenty
+paces from him, and he broke them all in as many shots, taking twelve
+seconds in which to do it.  Hopalong followed him and tied the score.
+Three tin balls rolling erratically in a blanket supported by two men
+were sent flying into the air in four shots, Tex taking six seconds.
+His competitor sent them from the blanket in three shots and in the
+same time.  In slow shooting from sights Tex passed his rival in points
+and stood to win.  There was but one more event to be contested and in
+it Hopalong found his joy.
+
+Shooting from the hip when the draw is timed is not the sport of
+even good shots, and when Tex made sixty points out of a possible
+hundred, he felt that he had shot well.  When Hopalong went
+to the line his friends knew that they would now see
+shooting such as would be almost unbelievable, that the best draw-and-
+shoot marksman in their State was the man who limped slightly as he
+advanced and who chewed reflectively on his fifty-cent cigar.  He wore
+two guns and he stepped with confidence before the marshal of the
+town, who was also judge of the contest.
+
+The iron ball which lay on the ground was small enough for the use
+of a rifle and could hardly be seen from the rear seats of the
+amphitheater.  There was a word spoken by the timekeeper, and a gloved
+hand flashed down and up, and the ball danced and spun and leaped and
+rolled as shot after shot followed it with a precision and speed which
+brought the audience to a heavy silence.  Taking the gun which Buck
+tossed to him and throwing it into the empty holster, he awaited the
+signal, and then smoke poured from his hips and the ball jumped
+continuously. Both guns emptied in the two-hand shooting, he wheeled
+and jerked loose the guns which the marshal wore, spinning around
+without a pause, the target hardly ceasing in its rolling.  Under his
+arms he shot, backward and between his legs; leaping from side to
+side, ducking and dodging, following the ball wherever it went.
+Reloading the weapons quickly, he stepped forward and followed the
+ball until once more his guns were empty.  Then he turned and walked
+back to the side of the marshal, smiling a little.  His friends, and
+there were many in the crowd, torn from their affected nonchalance by
+shooting the like of which they had not attributed even to him, roared
+and shouted and danced in a frenzy of delight.
+
+Red also threw his guns to Hopalong, who caught them in the air and turning,
+faced Tex, who stood white of face and completely lost in the forgetfulness of
+admiration and amazement.  The guns jerked again and a button flew from
+the buckskin shirt of his enemy; another tore a flower from his breast
+and another drove it into the ground at his feet as others stirred his
+hair and cut the buckle off his pretty sombrero.  Tex, dazed, but wise
+enough to stand quiet, felt his belt tear loose and drop to his feet,
+felt a spur rip from its strap and saw his cigarette leap from his
+lips.  Throwing the guns to Red, Hopalong laughed and abruptly turned
+and was lost in the crowd.
+
+For several seconds there was silence, but when the dazed minds
+realized what their eyes had seen, there arose a roar which shook the
+houses in the town.  Roar after roar thundered forth and was sent
+crashing back again by the distant walls, sweeping down on the
+discomfited dude and causing him to slink into the crowd to find a
+place less conspicuous.  He was white yet and keen fear gripped his
+heart as he realized that he had come to the carnival with the
+expressed purpose of killing his enemy in fair combat.  The whole town
+knew it, for he had taken pains to spread the news.
+
+The woman he had been with knew it from words which she had overheard
+while on her way to the grounds with him.  His friends knew it and would
+laugh him into forgetfulness as the fool who boasted.  Now he understood why
+he had lost so many friends: they had attempted what he had sworn to attempt.
+Look where he would he could see only a smoke-wrapped demon who moved
+and shot with a speed incredible.  There was reason why Slim had died.
+There was reason why Porous and Silent had paled when they learned of
+their mission.
+
+He hated his conspicuous clothes and his pretty broncho, and the woman
+who had gotten him to squander his money, and who was doubtless convulsed
+with laughter at his expense.  He worked himself into a passion which knew no
+fear and he ran for the streets of the town, there to make good his boast or to die.
+When he found his enemy he felt himself grasped with a grip of steel and Buck Peters
+swung him around and grinned maliciously in his face:
+
+"You plaything!" hoarsely whispered the foreman.  "Why don't yu get
+away while yu can?  Why do yu want to throw yoreself against certain
+death?  I don't want my pleasure marred by a murder, an' that is what
+it will be if yu makes a gun-play at Hopalong.  He'll shoot yu as he
+did yore buttons.  Take yore pretty clothes an' yore pretty cayuse an'
+go where this is not known, an' if ever again yu feels like killing
+Hopalong, get drunk an' forget it."
+
+
+
+
+
+THE END OF
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of BAR-20, by Clarence Edward Mulford
+[Alternate Title]
+
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