Hopalong Cassidy Sees Red

CHAPTER IV

A JOURNEY CONTINUED

POUNDING into Highbank from the south, Arch turned the two fagged-out horses into his father's little corral, roped the better of the two he found there, saddled it, and rode around to the front of the hotel, where he called loudly.

Pete Wiggins went to the door and scowled at his son. 'What you doin' with that hoss?'he demanded in no friendly tone.

'Breakin' records,' impudently answered his young hopeful. 'Left Big Creek, north of Mesquite, at six-twenty this mornin', an' I'm due in Gunsight before dark. Left you two cayuses for this one—but don't ride 'em too hard. So-long!' and he was off in a cloud of dust.

Pete Wiggins stepped forward galvanically and called, shaking his first. 'Come back here! Don't you kill that hoss!'

His beloved son's reply was anything but filial, but as long as his wrathful father did not hear it, perhaps it may better be left out of the record.

The shadows were long when Arch drew up in front of the 'Palace' in Gunsight, and dismounted almost in the door. He looked at his watch and proudly shouted the miles and the time of the ride before looking to see who was there to hear it. As he raised his head and saw Dave Green, Arnold, and two strangers staring at him, he called himself a fool, walked stiffly to a chair, and lowered himself gently into it.

'That's shore some ridin',' remarked Dave, surprised. 'What's wrong? What's th' reason for killin' cayuses?'

'Wanted to paste somethin' up for others to shoot at,' grinned Arch, making the best of the situation.

'How'd you come to leave ahead of Nelson?' demanded Arnold, his easy-going boss. 'Where is he? An' where's th' rest of th' boys?' The SV owner was fast falling into the vernacular, which made him fit better into the country.

'Oh, he's tryin' to make a fortune buyin' up a herd of fine yearlin's,' answered the record-maker with confident assurance. 'It ain't nothin' to him that th' owner don't want to sell 'em. I near busted laughin' at 'em wranglin'. They was near fightin' when I left. You should 'a' heard 'em! Anybody'd think that man didn't own his own cattle. But I'm bettin' on Nelson, just th' same, for when I left they had got to wranglin' about th' price, an' that's allus a hopeful sign. He shore will tire that man out. I used a lead hoss as far as Highbank, changin' frequent', an' got a fresh off th' old man. Nelson told us all to go home, where we're needed—but he'll be surprised when he knows how quick I got there. Sam an' th' others are with th' waggin, comin' slower.'

'I should hope so!' snorted Arnold. 'An' you ain't home yet. What's th' real reason for all this speed, an' for headin' here instead of goin' to th' ranch? A man that's born truthful makes a poor liar; but I'll say this for you, Arch—with a little practice you'll be near as good as Dave, here. Come on; tell it!'

Arch looked wonderingly at his employer, grinned at Dave, and then considered the two strangers. 'I've done told it already,' he affirmed, stiffly.

'Shake hands with Red Connors an' Hopalong Cassidy,' said Arnold. 'You've heard of them, haven't you?'

'Holy cats! I have!' exclaimed Arch, gripping the hands of the two in turn. 'I certainly have. Have you two ever been in Mesquite?' he demanded, eagerly. 'Good! Now, wait a minute; I want to think,' and he went into silent consultation with himself.

'Mebby he's aimin' to improve on me,' said Dave. 'Judgin' from th' studyin', I figger he's trying to bust in yore class, Arnold.'

Arch grinned from one to the other. 'Seein' as how we're all friends of Nelson, an' his wife ought to be kept calm, I reckon I ought to spit it out straight. Here, you listen,' and he told the truth as fully and completely as he knew it.

Arnold shook his head at the end of the recital. The loss of the herd money was a hard blow, but he was too much of a man to make it his chief concern. 'Arch,' he said slowly, 'yo're so fond of breakin' records that yo're goin' to sleep in town, get another horse at daylight, an' break yore own record gettin' back to Mesquite. Tell that son-in- law of mine to come home right away, before Peggy is left a widow. It's no fault of his that he lost it—it's to his credit, goin' to the aid of his men. I Wouldn't 'a' had it to lose if it wasn't for what he's done for th' SV. He earned it for me; an' if he's lost it, all right.'

'Most generally th' East sends us purty poor specimens,' observed Dave. 'Once in awhile we get a thoroughbred. Gunsight's proud of th' one it got.'

'Arnold,' said Arch eagerly, 'I'll get to Mesquite tomorrow if it's moved to th' other side of hades!'

Hopalong took the cigar from his mouth. 'Wait a minute,' he said. He slowly knocked the ashes from it and looked around. 'While I'm appreciatin' what you just said, Arnold, I don't agree with it.' He thought for a moment and then continued. 'You don't know that son-in-law of yourn like I do. Somebody knocked him on th' head, stole his money an' his guns. Don't forget th' guns. Bein' an easterner, that mebby don't mean anythin' to you; but bein' an old Bar-20 man, it means a heap to me. He won't leave till he's squared up, all around. I know it. Seein' how it is, we got to accept it; an' figger out some way to make his wife take it easy, an' not do no worryin'. Here!' he exclaimed, leaning forward. 'Arnold, you sit down an' write him a letter. Write it now. Tell him to stay down there until he gets a good herd of yearlin's. Then Arch has got to start back in th' mornin' an' join th' waggin, an' come home like he ought to. He stays here tonight, an' nobody has seen him, at all.'

'An' Dave don't need to bother with any check,' said Red. 'Hoppy an' me has plenty of money. We'll start for Mesquite at daylight, Arch, here, ridin' with us till we meet th' waggin. Of course, Hoppy don't mean that yo're really goin' to write a letter, Arnold,' he explained.

'That's just what I do mean,' said Hopalong. 'He's goin' to write th' letter, but he ain't goin' to send it. He'll give it to Arch, an' then it can be torn up. What's th' use of lyin' when it's so easy to tell th' truth? 'Though I'm admittin' I wasn't thinkin' of that so much as I was that a man can allus tell th' truth better'n he can lie. When he tells about th' letter, he's goin' to be talkin' about a real letter, what won't get to changin' around in a day or two, or when he gets rattled. Mrs. Johnny is mebby goin' to ask a lot of questions.'

'I'll give odds that she does,' chuckled Dave, looking under the backbar. 'Here's pen an' ink,' he said, pushing the articles across the counter. 'There's paper an' envelopes around here some—here it is. Go ahead, now:

'Dear Johnny: I take my—'

'Shut up!' barked Arnold, glaring at him. 'I guess I know how to write a letter! Besides, I don't take my pen in hand. It's your pen, you grinnin' chump! As long as we're ridin' on th' tail of Truth, let's stick to it, all th' way. Shut up, now, an' gimme a chance!' He glared around at the grinning faces, jabbed the pen in the ink, and went to work. When he had finished, he read it aloud, and handed it to Arch, who tore it up and threw the pieces on the floor.

Hopalong reached down, picked up the pieces, and gravely, silently put them on the bar. Dave raked them into his hand, dropped them into a tin dish, and put a match to them. Arnold looked around the little group and snorted.

'Huh! You an' Dave must 'a' gone to th' same school!'

Dave nodded. 'We have, I reckon. Experience is a good school, too.'

'Th' lessons stick,' said Hopalong, looking at Dave with a new interest.

Arch chuckled. 'Cuss it! I'll shore hate to stop at that waggin. I'm sayin' Mesquite is goin' to be terrible upset some day soon. Why ain't I got whiskers? I'd like to see his face when he sets eyes on you fellers. Bet he'll jump up an' down an' yell!'

'Mebby,' said Hopalong, 'for if there's any yellin', he'll shore have to start it. He sent you fellers away because you was known to be friends of his, didn't he?'

Dave slapped the bar and laughed outright. 'If I wasn't so fat, I'd go with you! I'm beginnin' to see why he thought so much of you fellers. Here—it's time for a drink.'

'What are we goin' to tell Margaret?' asked Arnold. 'She may get suspicious if you leave so suddenly.'

'You just keep repeatin' that letter to yoreself,' laughed Red, 'an' leave th' rest to better liars. Yo're as bad a liar as Arch, here. Ale an' Hoppy may 'a' been born truthful, but we was plumb spoiled in our bringin' up. Reckon we