Hopalong Cassidy Sees Red

pace.

The effect upon Miguel was galvanic. He reined in, flung himself off on the far side of his horse and cautiously slid the rifle from its scabbard while he pretended to be tightening the cinch. His swarthy face became a pasty yellow and then resumed its natural color, a little darker, perhaps, by the sudden inrush of blood. After what he had done in town Hugh Roberts would be on his trail for only one thing. Miguel's racing imagination and his sudden feeling of guilt for his deliberate, planned desertion found a sufficient reason for the pursuing horseman. Sliding the rifle under his arm he waited until the man came nearer, where a hit would be less of a gamble. The Mexican knew what had happened, for he had delayed until he heard that crashing volley, and knew it to be a volley. Knowing this he knew what it meant and had fled for Surprise Valley and the big herd waiting there. That Roberts should have escaped was a puzzle and he wrestled with it while the range was steadily shortened, and the more he wrestled the more undecided he became. Finally he slipped the gun back, mounted, and waited for the other to come up. He had a plausible answer for every question.

Roberts slowed to a walk and searched the Mexican's eyes as he pulled up at his side. 'How'd you get out here so far ahead of me?' he demanded, his eyes cold and threatening.

Miguel shrugged his shoulders, but did not take his hand from his belt. 'Ah, eet ees a miracle,' he breathed. 'The good Virgin, she watch over Miguel. An' paisano, the roadrunner—deed I not tell you eet was good luck? An' you, too, was saved! How deed eet happen, that you are save?'

'They none of them looked at me, I reckon,' replied Roberts. 'They got everybody but me—an' you. How is it that yo're out here, so far ahead of me?'

'Jus' before the firs' shootin'—the what you call volley—I stoomble as I try not to step on Thorpe. I go down —the volley, eet come—I roll away—they do not see me—an' here I am, like you, save.'

'Is that so?' snapped Roberts.

'Eet ees jus' so, so much as eet ees that somewan tell we are comin' to Quayle's,' answered Miguel. 'For why they do not see us, in the town, when we come in? For why that volley, lak one shot? Sometheeng there ees that Miguel he don' understan'. An' theese, please: Why ees there no sortie wen we come in? We was on the ver' minute—eet ees so?'

'Right on th' dot!' snarled Roberts, his thoughts racing along other trails. 'Huh!' he growled. 'Our shares of th' herd money comes to quite a sizable pile—mebby that's it. Take th' shares of all of us, an' it's more'n half. Well, I don't know, an' I ain't carin' a whole lot now. Think we can swing that herd, Miguel, an' split all th' money, even shares?'

The Mexican showed his teeth in a sudden, expansive smile. 'For why not? Theese hor-rses are ver' tired; but the others—they are res' now. We can wait at Bitter Spring tonight, an' go on tomorrow. There ees no hurry now.'

'We don't hang out at Bitter Spring all night,' contradicted Roberts flatly. 'We'll water 'em an' breath 'em a spell, an' push right on. Th' further I get away from Mesquite th' better I'm goin' to like it. Come on, let's get goin'.'

'There ees no hurry from Bitter Spring,' murmured the Mexican. 'They ees only one who know beyond; an' Manuel, he ees weeth Kane.'

'I don't care a cuss!' growled his companion, stubbornly. 'I'm not layin' around Bitter Spring any longer than I has to.'

Neither believed the other's story, but neither cared, only each determined to be alert when the drive across the desert was completed. Before that there was hardly need to let their mutual suspicions have full play. Each was necessary to the success of the drive—but after? That would be another matter. Fate was again kind to them both, for as they hurried east Hopalong Cassidy hastened west along his favorite trail, the rolling sand between hiding them from him.

Back in the town the elated ambushers buried the bodies, marveled at the escape of Roberts and drifted away to take places on the firing line, which soon showed increased activity. Here and there a more daring puncher took chances, some regretting it and others gaining better positions. Red, Johnny, and Waffles attended strictly to the roof, which now had been abandoned on all sides but the north, where lack of cover prohibited McCullough's men from getting close enough to do any considerable damage. The few punchers lying far off on the north were there principally to stop a sortie or an attempt at escape. As the day passed the defenders' fire grew a little less and the Question-Mark foreman was content to wait it out rather than risk unnecessary casualties in pushing the fighting any more briskly.

Evening came, and with it came Hopalong, tired, hungry, thirsty, and hot, which did not add sweetness to his disposition. Eager to get the men he wanted and to return for the herd, he listened impatiently to his friends' account of the fight, his mind busy on his own account. When the tale had been told and McCullough's changing attitude touched upon he shoved his hat back on his head, spread his feet and ripped out an oath.

'——!' he growled. 'All these men, all this time, to clean up a shack like that?'

'Mac's playin' safe—it's only a matter of time, now,' apologized Waffles, glaring at his two companions, who already had worn his nerves ragged by the same kind of remarks.

'Heck!' snorted Hopalong impatiently. 'We'll all grow whiskers at this rate, before it's over!' He turned to Johnny and regarded him speculatively. 'Kid, let Red an' Waffles handle that roof an' come along with me. I'm goin' to start things movin'.'

'You'll find Mac plumb set on goin' easy,' warned Waffles.

'Th' deuce with Mac, an' Lukins, an' you, an' everybody else,' retorted Hopalong. 'We're not workin' for nobody but ourselves. All I got to do is keep my mouth shut an' Mac loses a plumb fine herd. Let me hear him talk to me! Come on, Kid.'

Johnny deserted his companions as though they were lepers and showed his delight in every swaggering movement. A whining bullet over his head sent his fingers to his nose in contemptuous reply, but nevertheless he went on more carefully thereafter. As they reached the rear of a deserted adobe Hopalong pulled him to a stop.

'I'm tired of this blasted country, an' you ought to be, for you've got a wife that's havin' dull days an' sleepless nights. I'm goin' to touch somethin' off that'll put an end to this fool quiltin' party, an' let us get our money an' go home. By that I'm meanin' th' SV, for it's goin' to be home for me. Besides, it's our best chance of gettin' them rewards. So he's aimin' on cuttin' us out of 'em, huh? All right; I'm goin' to Quayle's, an' while I'm holdin' their interest you fill a canteen with kerosene an' smuggle it into th' stable.'

'What you goin' to do?' demanded his companion with poorly repressed eagerness.

'I'm goin' to set fire to that gamblin'-joint an' drive 'em out, that's what!'

'Th' moon won't let you,' objected Johnny, but as he looked up at the drifting clouds he hesitated and qualified his remark. 'You'll have times when it won't be so light, but it'll be too light for that.'

'When I start for th' hotel gamblin'-joint I go agin' th' northeast corner, where there ain't but one loophole that covers that angle. I got it figgered out. When I start, you an' Red won't be loafin' back there where I found you, target-practicin' at th' roof.'

Reaching the hotel they found a self-satisfied group complacently discussing the fight. Quayle looked up at their entry, sprang to his feet and heartily shook hands with both.

'Welcome to Mesquite, Cassidy,' he beamed. ''Tis different now than whin ye left, an' it won't be long before honest men have their say-so in this town.'

'Couple of weeks, I reckon, th' way things are driftin',' replied Hopalong, smiling as Johnny left the office to invade the kitchen, where Murphy gave a grinning welcome and looked curiously at the huge canteen held out to him.

'Couple of days,' corrected Quayle.

McCullough arose and shook hands with the newcomer. 'Hear you been trailin' my herd,' he said. 'Locate 'em?'

'They're hobbled, and' waitin' for yore boys to drive 'em home. Wish you'd tell yore outfit an' th' others not to shoot at th' feller that heads for Kane's northeast corner tonight, but to cut loose at th' loopholes instead. I'm honin' to get back home, an' so I'm aimin' to bust up this little party tonight. To do that I got to get close.'

'That's plumb reckless,' replied the trail-boss. 'We got this all wrapped up now, an' it'll tie its own knots in a day or two. What's th' use of takin' a chance like that?'

'To show that bunch just who they throwed in jail! Somebody else might feel like tryin' it some day, an' I'm