'I'm spending more time at the south windows every day,' she smiled. 'I don't know what will happen to the housework if it lasts much longer!'
'South windows?' queried Hopalong, standing Charley on his head before letting loose of him. 'Th' trail is west, ain't it?' he demanded, which caused Red to chuckle inwardly at how his friend was becoming observant again.
'The idea!' retorted Margaret. 'Do you think my boy will care anything about any trail that leads roundabout? He'll leave the trail at the Triangle and come straight for this house! What are hills and brush and a miserable little creek to
'We did, an' we do,' laughed Red. 'I'm bettin' yore way—I hope he's got a good horse—it'll be a dead one if it ain't.'
'He's saving Pepper for the homestretch—if you know what
'Hey, Red,' said Charley, slyly. 'Yore gun works, don't it?'
'Shore thing. Why?'
'Well, mine don't,' sighed the boy. 'Wonder if yourn is too heavy, an' strong, for a boy like me to shoot?
Margaret's low reproof was lost in Red's burst of laughter, and again a smile crept to Hopalong's face, a smile full of heartache. This eager boy made his memories painfully alive.
'You an' me an' Hoppy will shore go out an' see,' promised Red. 'Mrs. Johnny will trust you with us, I bet. Hello! Here's somebody comin',' he announced, looking out of the door.
'That's my dad!' cried Charley, bolting from the house so as to be the first one to give his father the good news.
Arnold rode up laughing, dismounted and entered the house with an agility rare to him. And he was vastly relieved. 'Well! Well! Well!' he shouted, shaking hands like a pump handle. 'I saw you ride over the hill an' got here as fast as Lazy would bring me. Red an' Hopalong! Our household gods with us in the flesh! And that scalawag off seeing the sights of strange towns when his old friends come to visit him. I'm glad to see you boys! The place is yours. Red and Hopalong! I'm not a drinkin' man, but there are times when—follow me while Peggy gets supper!'
'Can I go with you, Dad?' demanded Charley.
'You help Peggy set the table.'
'Huh!
'Seems to me, Charley,' reproved Arnold, 'that you are pretty familiar, for a boy; and especially on such short acquaintance. You might begin practicing the use of the word 'Mister.''
'Or say 'Uncle Red' and 'Uncle Hopalong,'' suggested Margaret.
''Red' is my name, an' I'm shore 'Red' to him,' defended that person.
'Which goes for me,' spoke up his companion.' I'm Hopalong, or Hoppy to anybody in this family—though 'Uncle' suits me fine.'
'Then we'll have a fair exchange,' retorted Margaret, smiling. 'The family circle calls me 'Margaret' or Peggy.''
'If you want to rile her, call her Maggie,' said Charley. 'She goes right on th' prod!'
'I'm plumb peaceful,' laughed Red, turning to follow his host. 'You help Mrs.—Margaret, an' when I come back you an' me'll figger on goin' after bear as soon as we can.'
JOHNNY sauntered into Quayle's barroom and leaned against the bar, talking to Ed Doane. An hour or two before he had finished his dinner, warned his outfit again about the early start on the morrow, advanced them some money, and watched them leave the hotel for one more look at the town, and now he was killing time.
'What do you think about Kane's?' asked Ed carelessly, and then looked up as a customer entered. When the man went out he repeated the question.
Johnny cogitated and shrugged his shoulders. 'Same as you. Reg'lar cow-town gamblin'-hall, with th' same fixin's, wimmin', crooked games, an' wise bums hangin' 'round. Am I right?'
A group entered, and when they had been served they went into the hotel office, the bartender's eyes on them as long as they were in sight. He turned and frowned. 'Purty near. You left a couple of things out. I'm not sayin' what they are, but I
Johnny raised his eyebrows: 'Mebby no good man ever tried to get one out, an' workin'.'
'You lose,' retorted Ed emphatically. 'Some of 'em was shore to be good. It's a cold deck—with a sharpshooter. There I go again!' he snorted. 'I'm certainly shootin' off my mouth today. I must be loco!'
'Then don't let that worry you. I ain't shootin' mine off,' Johnny reassured him. 'I'm tryin' to figger—'
A voice from the street interrupted him. 'Hey, stranger! Yore outfit's in trouble down in Red Frank's!'
Johnny swung from the bar. 'Where's
'One street back,' nodded the bartender, indicating the rear of the room. 'Turn to yore right—third door. It's a Mexican dive—look sharp!'
Johnny grunted and turned to obey the call. Walking out of the door, he went to the corner, turned it, and soon turned the second corner. As he rounded it he saw stars, reached for his guns by instinct, and dropped senseless. Two shadowy figures pounced upon him, rolled him over, and deftly searched him.
Back in the hotel Idaho stuck his head into the barroom. 'Seen Nelson?' he asked.
'Just went to Red Frank's this minute—his gang's in trouble there!' quickly replied Ed.
'I'll go 'round an' be handy, anyhow,' said Idaho, loosening his gun as he went through the door. Rounding the first corner, he saw a figure flit into the darkness across the street and disappear, and as he turned the second corner he tripped and fell over a prostrate man. One glance and his match went out. Jumping around the corner, he saw a second man run across an open space between two clumps of brush, and his quick hand chopped down, a finger of flame spitting into the night. A curse of pain answered it and he leaped forward, hot and vengeful; but his search was in vain, and he soon gave it up and hastened back to his prostrate friend, whom he found sitting up against the wall with an open jackknife in his hand.
'What happened?' demanded Idaho, stopping and bending down. 'Where'd he get you?'
'Somethin' fell on my head—an' my guns are gone,' mumbled Johnny. 'I—bet I've been robbed!' His slow, fumbling search revealed the bitter truth, and he grunted. 'Clean! Clean!'
'I shoved a hunk of lead under th' skin of somebody runnin'—heard him yelp,' Idaho said. 'Lost him in th' dark. Here, grab holt of me. I'll take you to my room in th' hotel. Able to toddle?'
'Able to kill th' skunk with my bare han's,' growled the unfortunate, staggering to his feet. 'I'm goin' to Kane's!' he asserted, and Idaho's arguments were exhausted before he was able to have his own way.
'You come along with me—I want to look at yore head. An', besides, you ought to have a gun before you go huntin'. Come, on. We'll go in through th' kitchen—that's th' nearest way. It's empty now, but th' door's never locked.'
'You gimme a gun, an' I'll know where to go!' blazed Johnny, trembling with weakness. 'I showed my roll in there, like a fool. Eleven hundred—mighty fine foreman
'You can't just walk into a place an' start shootin'!' retorted Idaho, angrily. '
'Th' SV can't afford to lose that money—oh, well,' sighed Johnny, 'yo're right. Go ahead. I'll wash off th' blood, anyhow. I must be a holy show.'
They got to Idaho's room without arousing any unusual interest and Idaho examined the throbbing bump with