Hopalong Cassidy Sees Red

clumsy fingers, receiving frank statements for his awkwardness.

'Shucks,' he grinned, straightening up. 'It's as big as an egg, but besides th' skin bein' broke an' a lot of blood, there ain't nothin' th' matter. I'll wash it off—an' if you keep yore hat on, nobody'll know it. I reckon that hat just about saved that thick skull of yourn.'

'What did you see when you found me?' asked Johnny when his friend had finished the job.

Idaho told him and added: 'Hoped I could tell him by th' yelp, but I can't, unless, mebby, I go around an' make everybody in this part of th' country yelp for me. But I don't reckon that's hardly reasonable.'

'Yo're right,' grinned Johnny. 'Well,' he said, after a moment's thought, 'I don't go back home without eleven hundred dollars, U. S., an' my guns; but I got to send th' boys back. They can't help me none, bein' known as my friends. Besides, we're all broke, an' they're needed on th' ranch. If I knowed that Kane had a hand in this, I'd cussed soon get that money back!'

'Yo're shore plumb set on that Kane idear.'

'I showed that wad of bills in just two places: Ed's bar, an' Kane's joint.'

'Ed's bar is out of it if nobody else was in there at th' time.'

'Only Ridley, Ed, an' myself.'

'Somebody could 'a' looked in th' window,' suggested Idaho.

'Nobody did, because I was lookin' around.'

'If you go in Kane's an' make a gunplay, you'll never know how it happened or who done it; an' if you go in, without a gunplay, an' let 'em know what you think, some Mexican'll hide a knife in you. Then you'll never get it back.'

'Just th' same, that's th' place to start from,' persisted Johnny doggedly. 'An' from th' inside, too.'

Idaho frowned. 'That may be so, but startin' it from there means to end it there an' then. You can't buck Kane in his own place. It's been tried more'n once. I ain't shore you can buck him in this town, or part of th' country. Bigger people than you are suspected of payin' him money to let 'em alone. You'd be surprised if I named names. Look here: I better speak a little piece about this part of th' country. This county is unorganized an' ain't got no courts, nor nothin' else except a peace officer which we calls sheriff. It's big, but it ain't got many votes, an' what it has is one-third Mexican. Most Mexicans don't amount to much in a stand-up fight, but their votes count. They are all for Kane. We've only had one election for sheriff, an' although Corwin is purty well known, he won easy. Kane did it, an' when anybody says 'Corwin,' they might as well say 'Kane.' He is boss of this section. His gamblin'- joint is his headquarters, an' it's guarded forty ways from th' jack. His gang is made up of all kinds, from th' near decent down to th' night killer. When Kane wants a man killed, that man don't live long. Corwin takes his orders before an' after a play like this one. Yo're expected to report it to him. Comin' down to cases, th' pack has got to be fed, an' they have got to make a killin' once in a while. Even if Kane ain't in on it direct, he'll get most of that money across his bar or tables. To wind up a long speech, you better go home with yore men, for that ain't enough money to get killed over.'

'Mebby not if it was mine!' snapped Johnny. 'An' I ain't shore about that, neither. An' there's more'n money in this, an' more than th' way I was handled. Somebody in this wart of a town has got Johnny Nelson's two guns—an' nobody steals them an' keeps 'em! I got friends, lots of 'em, in Montanny, that would lend me th' money quick; but there ain't nobody can give me them six-guns but th' thief that's got 'em. I'm rooted— solid.'

'All right,' said Idaho. 'Yo're talkin' foolish, but cussed if I don't like to hear it. So me an' you are goin' to hog- tie that gang. If I get Corwin in th' ruckus, I'll be satisfied.'

'Yo're th' one that's talkin' foolish,' retorted Johnny, fighting back his grin. 'An I'm cussed ifI don't like to hear it. But there's this correction: Me an' you ain't goin' to bulldog that gang at all. I am. Yo're goin' to sprawl on yore saddle an' light out for wherever you belong, an' stay there. Yo're a marked man an' wouldn't last th' swish of a longhorn's tail. Yore brand is registered—they got you in their brand books; but they ain't got mine. I'm not wearin' no brand. I ain't even ear- notched, 'though I must 'a' been a 'sleeper' when I let 'em put this walnut on my head. I'm a plain, ornery maverick. Think I'm comin' out in th' open? I don't want no brass band playin' when I go to war. I'm a Injun.'

'Yo're a little striped animal in this town—one of them kind that's onpleasant upwind from a feller,' snorted Idaho. 'How can you play Injun when they know yo're hangin' 'round here lookin' for yore money? Answer me that, maverick!'

'I'm comin' to that. Can you get me an old hat? One that's plumb wore out?'

'Reckon so,' grunted Idaho, in surprise. 'Th' clerk might be able to dig one up.'

'No, not th' clerk; but Ed Doane,' corrected Johnny. 'Now you think hard before you answer this one: Could you see my face plain when you found me? Could they have seen it plain enough to be shore it was me?'

Idaho stared at him and a cheerful expression drifted across his face. 'I'm gettin' th' drift of this Injun business,' he muttered. 'Mebby—mebby—cuss it, it will work! I couldn't see nothin' but a bump on th' ground along that wall till I lit a match. I'll get you a hat an' I'll plant it, too.'

Johnny nodded. 'Plant anythin' else you want that don't look like anythin' I own. Be shore that hat ain't like mine.'

Idaho raised his hand as a sudden tramping sounded on the stairs. 'That yore outfit?' he asked as a loud, querulous voice was heard.

Johnny went to the door and called, whereupon Arch waved his companions toward their quarters and answered the summons, following his foreman into the room. Johnny was about to close the door when Idaho arose and pushed past him.

'We been talkin' too loud,' whispered the departing puncher. 'You never can tell. I'm goin' out to sit on th' top step where there's more air,' and he went on again, the door closing after him.

Johnny turned and smiled at Arch's expression. 'You boys leave at daylight on th' jump. I got to stay here. You can say I'm waitin' for th' chance to pick up some money—buyin' a herd of yearlin's cheap, or anythin' you can think of. Anythin' that'll stick. You'll have plenty of time to smooth it out before you get back home. I want you boys to scratch up every cent you've got an' turn it over to me. Any left of that I gave you after supper?'

'Shore—quite some,' grinned Arch. 'We had better luck, down th' street. You must be aimin' to get a-plenty yearlin's, with that roll you got. What are we goin' to do, busted?'

'I want a couple of Colts, too,' continued Johnny. 'You won't need any money. Th' waggin is well stocked—an' when you get back you can draw on Arnold.' 'We was goin' to stop at Highbank for a good time,' protested Arch.

'Have it in yore old man's hotel an' owe it to him,' suggested Johnny.

'Have a good time in my old man's place!' exclaimed Arch. 'Oh, Judas!' He burst out laughing. 'That'll tickle th' boys, that will!' The puncher looked searchingly at his foreman. 'Hey, what's all th' trouble?'

Johnny thought it would be wiser to post his companion and crisply told what had happened.

Arch cleared his throat, hitched up his belt, and looked foolish but determined. 'It's been comin' rapid, but I got it all. Yo're talkin' to th' wrong man. You want to fix up that story for th' ranch with some soft-belly that's ridin' that way. Better send a letter. We're all stayin' here. Fine bunch of—'

'You can help me more by goin' back like nothin's happened,' interrupted Johnny. 'Th' ranch won't be worryin' me then, an' if you stayed here it might give th' game away. Besides, one man can live longer on th' money we got than four can, only have a quarter of th' chance to drink too much, an' only talk a fourth as much. That's th' natural play, an' everythin' has got to be natural.'

'That's th' worst of havin' a smooth face,' grumbled Arch, ruefully rubbing his chin. 'If I only had whiskers, I could shave 'em off an' be a total stranger; but I don't reckon I could grow a good enough bunch to get back here in time.'

Johnny laughed, his heart warming to the puncher. 'Take you a year or two; an' there's more'n whiskers needed to hide from a good man. There's little motions, gait, voice—oh, lots of things. You can help me more if you go north. See Dave Green, tell him on th' quiet, an' ask him to send me down a couple hundred dollars. He can buy a check from th' Doc, payable to George Norton. There's a bank in this town. He's to send it to George Norton, general delivery.'

'Dave will spread it far an' wide,' objected Arch. 'He tells all he knows.'