better be leavin' now. Arch, where'll we meet you about two hours after daylight tomorrow?'
Arch groaned. 'Shucks! About daylight it'll take Fanning that long to get me out of bed—oh, well,' he sighed, resignedly. 'I'll be at th' ford, waitin' for you to come along. Come easy, in case I'm asleep.'
'South of here, on this trail?' asked Red. 'Thought so. All right. So-long,' and he followed his slightly limping friend out to the horses.
Dave hurried to the door. 'Hey!' he shouted. 'Hadn't I better send him that check, anyhow? He may need it before you get there.'
A roar of laughter from behind answered him, and he wheeled to face Arch. 'When does th' mail leave?' asked the puncher.
'Day after tomorrow,' answered Dave, and swung around as a voice from the street rubbed it in.
'You must 'a' played hookey from that school, Dave,' jeered Arnold.
'He's fat clean to th' bald spot,' shouted Arch. 'Come on in, Dave. We ain't got time to hold back for no mail to get there first.' He stuck his head out of the window. 'So-long, fellers! See you at th' ford.'
Dave watched the three until they were well along the trail and then he turned slowly. 'I never did really doubt th' stories Nelson told about that old outfit, but if I had any doubts I ain't got them no more. Did you see th' looks in their eyes when you was tellin' about Nelson?'
'I did!' snapped Arch. 'Why in heck ain't I got whiskers?'
Reaching the SV, Arnold and his companions put up the horses and walked slowly toward the house, seeing a flurry of white through the kitchen door.
'Think it'll reach him in time?' asked Red, waiting outside the door for Arnold to enter first.
'Ought to. Slim said he would mail it at Highbank as soon as he got there,' answered Arnold.
'I shore hope so,' said Red. 'I'd hate to have that ride for nothin'—an' it would just be our luck to pass him somewhere on th' way, an' get there after he left.'
'He'd likely foller th' reg'lar trail up, anyhow,' said Hopalong. 'It ain't likely we'll miss him.'
Margaret put down the dish and looked at them accusingly. 'What are you boys talking about?' she demanded.
'Only wonderin' if yore father's letter will get to Johnny in time to catch him before he leaves,' said Hopalong, 'Dave says it will as long as that Slim feller is takin' it to Highbank with him. Slim live down there?' he asked his host.
'No; goin' down for th' Double X, I suppose,' replied Arnold. 'Supper ready, Peggy?'
'Not until I learn more about this,' retorted Margaret, determinedly. 'What letter are you talking about?'
'Oh, I told Johnny to look around and see if he could pick up a good herd of yearlings cheap,' answered her father, going into the next room.
Margaret compressed her lips, but said nothing about it, whereupon Red silently swore a stronger oath of allegiance. 'The table is waiting for you. I've had to keep the supper warm,' she said.
Red nodded understandingly. 'Men-folks are shore a trial an' tribulation,' he said, passing through the door, 'Hadn't ought to take him very long, I suppose?' queried Arnold, passing the meat one way and the potatoes the other.
Red laughed. 'You don't know him very well, yet,' he replied. 'Give him a chance to dicker over a herd an' he's happy for a week or more. He shore does like to dicker.'
'I never saw anything in his nature which would indicate anything like that,' said Margaret, tartly. 'He has impressed me with being quite direct. Perhaps I did not understand you correctly?'
'Peggy! Peggy!' reproved her father. 'It means bread and butter for us.'
'I can eat my bread without butter,' she retorted. 'As a matter of fact I've seen very little butter out in this country.'
Red screwed his face up a little and wriggled his foot. 'I don't reckon you've ever seen him buyin' a herd, ma'am?'
'You are quite right, Mr. Connors. I never have.'
Red did not take the trouble to inform her that
'Gambling?' snapped Margaret, her eyes sparking. 'Did you say gambling?'
Hopalong flashed one eloquent look at his friend, whose hair now was not the only red thing about him, and removed the last of the peel from the potato. 'Red is referrin', I reckon, to th' love of gamblin' that was born in yore husband, Margaret. It allus has been one of his, an' our, fears that it would get th' best of him. But,' he said, proudly and firmly, 'it never did. Johnny is gettin' past th' age, now, when a deck of cards acts strong on him. An' it's all due to Red. He used to whale him good every time he caught th' Kid playin'.'
Red's sanctimonious expression made Hopalong itch to smear the hot potato over it, and the heel of his boot on Red's shin put a look of sorrow on that person's face which was not in the least simulated.
'We all had a hand in that, Margaret,' generously remarked the man with the shuddering shin. 'Tex Ewalt watched him closest. But, as I was sayin', out at th' cor, ral, I don't believe he's got men enough to handle no herd of yearlin's. Them youngsters are plumb skittish, an' hard to keep on th' trail. Me an' Hoppy are aimin' to go down an' help him—an' see him all th' sooner, to tell you th' truth.'
'That will please him,' smiled Margaret. She looked at her father, whose appetite seemed to be ravenous, judging by the attention he was giving to the meal. 'What did you write, Dad?'
Arnold washed down a refractory mouthful of potato, which suffered from insufficient salivation, and looked up. He repeated the letter carelessly and reached for another swallow of coffee, silently thanking Hopalong for insisting that the letter actually be written.
The meal over they sat and chatted until after dark, Margaret doing up a bundle of things which she thought her husband might need. When morning came she had breakfast on the table at daylight for her departing friends, and she also had a fat letter for her husband, which she entrusted to Red, the sterling molder of her husband's manly character.
When they had ridden well beyond sight of the house Hopalong thoughtfully dropped the bundle to the ground, turned in the saddle and looked with scorn at his friend. 'You shore are a hard-boiled jackass! For two bits I'd 'a' choked you last night. How'd you like to have somebody shoot off his mouth to yore wife about your gamblin'?'
'I've reformed, an' she knows it!'
'Yes, you've reformed! You've reformed a lot, you have!'
'You ain't got no business pickin' on th' man that taught th' Kid most all he knows about poker!' tartly retorted Red.
'Cussed little you ever taught him,' rejoined Hopalong. 'It was me an' Tex that eddicated his brain, an' fingers. He only used you to practice on.'
And so they rode, both secretly pleased by this auspicious beginning of a new day, for the day that started without a squabble usually ended wrong, somehow. Picking up Arch, who yawningly met them at the ford, they pushed southward at a hard pace, relying on the relay which their guide promised to get at Highbank. Reaching this town Arch led them to his father's little corral, and exulted over the four fresh horses which he found there. Saddles were changed with celerity and they rolled on southward again.
Peter Wiggins in the hotel office held the jack of hearts over the ten of the same suit and cocked an ear to listen. Slowly making the play he drew another card from the deck in his hand, and listened again. Reluctant to bestir himself, but a little suspicious, he debated the matter while he played several cards mechanically. Then he arose and walked through the building, emerging from the kitchen door. Three swiftly moving riders, his son in the middle, were taking the long, gentle slope just south of town. Pete's laziness disappeared and he made good time to the corral. One look was enough and he shook a vengeful fist at his heir and pride.
'Twice!' he roared, kicking an inoffensive tomato can over the corral wall. 'Twice! Mebby you'll try it again! All right;
Pete went into the hotel, soon returning with the cards and a box; and for the rest of the morning played solitaire with the steadily rising sun beating on his back, and swarms of flies exploring his perspiring person.
