Hopalong Cassidy Sees Red

'I didn't; but you mentions two moans, separate an' distinct,' defended Ed.

'You shore did,' said Idaho, firmly.

Johnny nodded emphatically. 'Yessir; you shore did. Two moans, one at each end.'

'But I didn't get to th' second moan at all!'

'Now, what's th' use of tellin' us that?' flared the bartender. 'Don't you think we got ears?'

'If you can't tell it right, shut up,' said Idaho.

'I can tell it right if you'll shut up!' retorted Silent. 'As I said, he hears a moan, so he leaves th' safe an' goes to th' door. Then he hears a second moan, scratchin', an'—'

'Hey!' growled Ed indignantly. 'What you talkin' about? Who in blazes ever heard of a second moan scratchin'—'

'It was th' first that scratched,' corrected Idaho. 'He said it plain. You must be listenin' with yore feet.'

'If you'd gimme a chance to tell it—' began Silent, bridling.

'Never mind my hearin' you,' snapped Ed at Idaho.

'I know what I heard. An' lemme tell you, Silent, you can't cram nothin' like that down my throat. Before you go any further, just explain to me how a moan can scratch! I'm allus willin' to learn, but I want things explained careful an' full.'

'He ain't quick-witted, like you an' me,' said Johnny. 'We understand how a scratch moans, but he's too dumb. Go on an' tell th' ignoramus.'

'If yo're so cussed quick-witted, will you please tell me what'n blazes you are talkin' about?' demanded Silent, truculently. 'What do you mean by a scratch moans?'

'That's what I want to know,' growled Idaho. 'You can't scratch moans. Cuss it, I reckon I ought to know, for I've tried to do it, more'n once, too.'

'Yo're dumber than Nelson,' jeered Ed. 'It's all plain to me.'

'What is?' snapped Idaho.

'Moanin' scratches, that's what!'

'Of a safe?' asked Johnny. 'Then why didn't you say so? How'd I know that you meant that. Go on, Silent.'

'You was at th' second moan,' prompted Ed.

'He scratched that,' said Idaho. 'He got as far as Ieavin' th' safe, 'though what he was doin' in there with it, I'd like to know. Reddy let you in?'

'Look here, Idaho,' scowled Silent. 'I wasn't in there at all. You'll get me inter trouble, sayin' things like that. I was ten miles away when it happened.'

'Then why didn't you say so, at th' beginnin'?' asked Ed.

'Ah!' triumphantly exclaimed Johnny. 'Then you tell us how you could hear th' scratchin' an' moanin'; tell us that!'

'That's all right, Nelson,' said Idaho, soothingly. 'He can hear more things when he's ten miles away than any man you ever knowed. Go ahead, Silent.'

'You go to blazes!' roared Silent, glaring. 'You think yo're smart, don't you, all of you? I was goin' to tell you about th' robbery, but now you can cussed well find it out for yoreselves! An' don't let me hear about any of you sayin' I was in that bank last night, neither! Cussed fools!' and he stamped out, slamming the door behind him. 'Blow an' be dogged!' he growled at the storm. 'I'd ruther eat sand than waste time with them ijuts. 'Scratch moans! 'Scratch foolishness!'

Silent's departure left a more cheerful atmosphere in the barroom. The three men he had forsaken were grinning at each other, the petty annoyances of the storm forgotten, and the next hour passed quickly. At its expiration the wind had died down and the storm-bound town was free again. Ed finished cleaning the bar and the glassware about the time that his two friends had swept the last of the sand into the street and cleared away a drift which blocked the rear door. They were taking a congratulatory drink when Ridley, coming to town for the mail himself because he would not ask any of his men to face the discomforts of that ride, stamped in, and his face was like a thunder cloud.

'Gimme a drink!' he demanded, and when he had had it he swung around and glared at Idaho. 'Lukins have any money in that bank? Yes? You better be off to let him know about it. Heck of a note: Thirty thousand stole! An' Jud Hill holdin' a gun on me when I rode into town, askin' fool questions! An' let me tell you somethin'—judgin' from th' tools they forgot to take with 'em, it wasn't no amachures that did that job. Diamond drills an' cow-country crooks don't know each other. An' that Jud Hill, a-stoppin' me!'

'Mebby he won't let you leave town,' suggested Idaho. 'Corwin's given orders like that.'

Ridley crashed his fist on the bar, and then to better express his feelings he leaned over and stuck out his jaw. 'Y-a-a-s? Then I'm invitin' you-all to Hill's funeral, an' Corwin's, too, if he cuts in! Thirty thousand! Great land of cows!'

'Corwin's out now, huntin' for 'em,' said Ed.

'Is he?' sneered Ridley.' Then he wants to find 'em! Th' firm of Twitchell an' Carpenter owns near half of that bank—every dollar th' Question-Mark has was in it. There's a change comin' to this part of th' country!' and he stamped out, mounted his horse and whirled down the trail. When he reached the sentry he rode so close to him that their legs rubbed and Hill's horse began to give ground.

'Do I go on?' snapped Ridley.

Jud Hill nodded pleasantly. 'Shore. Seein' as how you come in this mornin' I reckon you do.'

Ridley urged his horse forward without replying, reached the ranchhouse, wrote a letter which was a masterpiece of its kind and gave it to one of his men to post in Larkinville, twenty miles to the south. That done, all he could do was impatiently to await the reply.

After Ridley had left, Johnny went out to look after Pepper, found her all right, cleaned the sand out of the feed box and then went down to look at the bank. Four men with rifles were posted around it and waved him away. He could see several other men busy in the building, but beyond that there was nothing to claim his attention. Joining the small crowd of idlers across the street he listened to their conjectures, which were entirely vague and colorless, and then wandered back to look for Idaho in Quayle's. His friend was not to be seen and after exchanging a few words with the jovial proprietor he went in to talk with the bartender.

'No wind now, but my throat's dry. Gimme a drink, half water,' and holding it untasted for the moment he jerked his head backward in the direction of the bank. 'Nothin' to see, except some fellers inside lookin' for 'most anythin', an' four men with Winchesters on th' outside.'

While he was speaking a man had entered and seated himself in the rear of the room. Johnny glanced carelessly at him, and the glass cracked sharply in his convulsive grip, the liquor squirting through his fingers and gathering a deeper color as it passed. A thin trickle of blood ran down his hand and wrist.

Ed had started at the sound and his head was bent forward, his unbelieving eyes staring at the dripping hand.

Johnny opened it slowly, shook the fragments from it and let it fall to his side, mechanically shaking off blood and liquor. 'Cuss it, Ed,' he gently reproved, looking calmly into the bartender's questioning face, 'you should ought to pick out th' bad ones an' throw 'em away—yes, an' bust 'em first.'

Ed picked up the bottom of the glass and critically examined it, noting a discolored strip along one of the sharp edges, where dirt had accumulated from numberless washings. The largest fragment showed the greasy line to the rounded brim. 'I usually do,' he growled. 'Thought I had this one, too. Must 'a' got back somehow. Hurt bad?'

'Nothin' fatal, I reckon,' answered Johnny, drawing the injured member up his trousers leg. 'But I'm sayin' you owe me another drink; an' leave th' water out, this time. Water in whisky never does bring good luck, nohow.'

Ed smiled, pushing out bottle and glass. 'We might say that one was on th' house —all that didn't get on you.' He instinctively reached for and used the bar cloth as he looked over at the stranger. 'I can promise you one that ain't cracked,' he smiled.

'I'll take mine straight,' said Bill Long. 'I don't want no more hard luck.'

'Wonder where Idaho is?' asked Johnny. 'Well, if he comes in, tell him I'm exercisin' my cayuse. Reckon I'll go down an' chin with Ridley this afternoon. Th' south trail is less sandy than th' north one.'

'An' give Corwin a chance to say things about you?' asked Ed, significantly. 'He'll be lookin' for a peg to hang