Buck Peters, Ranchman

by Clarence Edward Mulford and John Wood Clay

  CHAPTER XXVI

  HUNTERS AND HUNTED

  A string of empty cars backed onto the siding at X----, bumping andgrinding and squealing as the engine puffed softly; a running rattle andcrash told of the shivering line coming to rest and the sibilant sighsof the engine seemed to voice its protest at being side-tracked for thepassing of an engine of a higher caste. While it panted and wheezed,its crew taking advantage of the opportunity to look to and oil journalsand rods, a man made his way through the brush several hundred yardsdown the track, swearing mildly as he brushed cinders and dust from hisclothes. His only possessions besides his clothes were a revolverswinging in its buttoned holster, and a tightly rolled and securely tiedgunny sack, to which he clung in grim determination.

  "H--l of a ride," he growled as he headed in a circuitous course for thetown a short distance away. "But it breaks th' trail. They 'll figger Iwent north to cross th' line, or up to Helena. Lucky they told meDenver Gus's relay was relieved. Brains, says Smiler--huh, devil a lotof good his brains done him. He is out of it, an' so is Peters, d--n'em. Brains!"

  He entered the town, looking for a place to put up. The Come-Againlooked good and he entered it, securing a room on the second floor,which was under the roof. He was explicit to the proprietor: "It's gotto be a back room, an' I want it for a couple of days, an' I don't wantno noise,--I'm out here for my cussed nerves an' as soon as I can get agood job we 'll see about terms. Oh, I expect to pay in advance--willtwo days' pay keep you from layin' awake nights?"

  "Reckon somebody made a mistake," replied the proprietor. "Yore nervesis purty strong."

  "Have a drink and forget it," Dave smiled. When he had paid for thedrinks he asked a question: "Who's got th' best horse in town? I'ma-goin' to buy it if it's good enough."

  The proprietor looked him over and nodded toward a table in the farthercorner: "That's him."

  Dave sauntered over to the lone drinker: "Just been told you got th'best horse in town. That right?"

  The other looked up slowly: "I might," he replied.

  "I want to buy him. I don't give a d--n about th' price if he's good.Interested? Thought you'd be."

  The other also looked the cocky stranger over: "Yes--I 'm interested--alittle. I ain't h--l-bent for to sell that horse. He 's th' best evercame to these parts--that's why he 's good--he _came_ here."

  Dave was impatient: "Is he where I can see him?"

  "Shore," drawled the horseman, arising languidly. "Come along an' youcan see him if yore eyes is good."

  The owner of the "best horse in town" studied Dave as they walked alongand his mental comment was not flattering to the _protege_ of the lateHerr Schatz. "Fake cow-puncher," was his summing up. "He don't know a_hoss_ from a hoss--but he thinks he does."

  When they came to the corral the owner pointed to a big gray in thecorner: "That's him, stranger. He 's part cow-horse an' part Kaintuk,an' too good to be out here in this part of the country. _That's_ th'hoss Bad Hawkins rid from Juniper Creek to Halfway in ten hours--onehundred an' forty miles, says th' map, an' Hawkins weighed a hundred an'seventy afore they got him. He weighed so much he broke off th' limb ofth' best tree they could find. Why, _he 's_ th' cuss what held up th'Montana Express down at Juniper Creek bridge--reckon you _are_ astranger to these parts."

  "He don't look like no miracle to _me_," asserted Dave, closelyscrutinizing the horse.

  "No? Mebby you ain't up on miracles. If you want a purty hoss why didn't you say so? Dolly 's slick as silk an' fat as butter--you can haveher if you wants her. Cost you about twenty-five dollars less. But youwon't save nothin' on her if you wants a hoss for hard ridin', one thatgets there quick, an' gets back quick."

  "I ain't said nothin' 'bout savin' no money," retorted Dave. "An' itseems to me yo 're purty d--n high in yore prices, anyhow."

  "Well, I sees you wants a hoss right bad; an' when a man wants a hossbad he wants a _good_ hoss--an' good hosses come high. Dolly 's gentleas a kitten," shrewdly explained the owner. "Big Gray, there, he 'ssome hard to ride, onless you can sit a saddle good as th' next."

  "How much for Big Gray?" snapped Dave.

  "One hundred dollars."

  "I ain't buyin' a herd," remonstrated Dave.

  "I ain't sellin' a herd," smiled the owner. "I told you good hossescome high. Mebby Dolly 'd suit you better. She 's my daughter's hoss."

  "Here 's th' hundred," replied Dave, nettled. "Got a bridle or halteror piece of rope? An' I want to buy a saddle--one that's been brokein."

  "There's a halter on him--good enough? All right; I got a saddle that'sin purty fair shape--don't need it, so you can have it for twenty."

  When Dave rode from the corral he was headed for the general store andbought a rifle, a rope, and sundry other necessaries, including food.Returning to the hotel he put his horse in the corral, had a drink, andwent to his room carrying the saddle, the gunny sack, and his otherpurchases with him. The gunny sack had not been from under his arm aninstant while he had been in town. The erstwhile owner of Big Graydrifted back to his table shortly after Dave's return and settledhimself for another drink.

  "Did you sell him one?" asked the proprietor, digging down for change.

  "Yep," was the reply.

  "Fifty, sixty, seventy-five--there 's yore change. I wonder who he isan' where he's goin'?" remarked the proprietor, in lieu of somethingbetter.

  "Dunno; but he ain't no cow-punch, an' likewise he ain't no tenderfoot.Looks like a tin-horn to me. His fingers was purty slick gettin' th'bills off his roll. They was so slick I counted 'em to be sure he wasn't robbin' hisself. But there was n't no folded bill there. Here,have a drink with me--business is pickin' up."

  * * * * *

  When the east-bound accommodation pulled into X---- at dusk two menjumped off and started toward the nearest hotel. The proprietor of theCome-Again assigned them a room and spoke of supper, to which theyintimated their ability to do justice to "anythin' you got." As theyturned away carelessly toward the "washroom" one of them halted: "We'reexpectin' a friend," and he gave a concise description of the third man.

  "Why, he 's upstairs now--first door to th' left at th' top of th'flight--got in this afternoon. But he said he did n't want to bebothered none," hastily warned the proprietor.

  "That's right--you can let that go for th' three of us," repliedHopalong, smiling.

  "Said his nerves was all stampeded," commented the host, dubiously.

  Hopalong winked, grinning: "Did n't act none that-a-way, did he?"

  "Oh, I _told_ him somebody was stringin' him," laughed the proprietor.

  "Reckon we 'll go up an' hustle him down to his feed," Tex remarked,leading the way, with Hopalong stepping on his heels.

  The proprietor studied the three names on his register, and spoke to thehorseman, who now was playing solitaire in a negligent way. "Wonderwhat's up, Dick?"

  "Dunno," replied Dick, holding aloft a queen of hearts and studying thelayout. "Reckon you better let this deal go by. Keep yore chips out,Joe; don't like th' looks of th' pair of 'em. That red-head looks likea bad customer, if his corn 's stepped on. Mebby their nervous friendhas did somethin' they don't like."

  The knocking upstairs now reverberated through the house and a peevishvoice threatened destruction to the door unless it opened speedily.

  "That's th' red-head," remarked Dick. "What did I tell you?"

  The proprietor hastened from behind the bar and went up the steep,narrow stairs with undignified haste. "Don't bust that door!" he cried."Don't you bust it!"

  "Aw, close yore face!" growled a voice, and Dick nodded his head wisely."Both of 'em bad customers," he mumbled.

  There was a crash and the sound of splintering wood, followed bydisgusted exclamations. Dick arose and sauntered up to see the show:the host was nervously clutching a bill large enough to pay for severalbroken doors. The red-head was
looking out of the open window while theother man rapidly searched the room.

  "He dropped his belongings first," audibly commented the man at thewindow. "Then _he_ dropped." He turned quickly to the proprietor: "Didhe have a horse?"

  "Yes; bought one first thing after he registered."

  "We want one apiece," crisply demanded Hopalong, "with speed, bottom,an' sand. Got 'em? No? Then where can we get 'em to-night?"

  "What'd he do?" blundered the host, rubbing the bill with tender fingersand looking for information instead of giving it.

  "He dropped out th' winder," sharply replied Tex. "We never stand forthat."

  "Never, not under no circumstances," endorsed his friend. "It allusriles us. How 'bout them horses?"

  "I reckon I can fix you up," offered Dick. "I sold him th' hoss he 'sgot. He wanted th' best in town, which he didn't get for bein' tooblamed flip. But he paid for it, just th' same. I got a roan an' a baythat 'll run Big Gray off 'n his feed an' his feet. If yo 're comin'back this way I 'll buy 'em back again at a reduction--I 'd like to keepthem two. I don't reckon I 'll get no chance to buy back th' other."

  The horseman fell in behind the descending procession and lined up withit against the bar on Hopalong's treat. Then they left the proprietorto swear at the cook while they departed for the corral.

  Dick chuckled. "Th' gray I sold yore missin' friend carried Bad Hawkinsfrom Juniper Creek to Halfway in fourteen hours--ten miles an hour. Th'roan an' th' bay did it in ten hours even--which puts a period after th'last words of Hawkins. Bad Hawkins weighed less 'n you," he said toTex, "an' th' gray shore sprains a laig a-doin' it. It don't show--thatis, not when he was sold it did n't. That feller was too d--d flip--oneof them Smart Alecks that stirs my bile somethin' awful."

  Tex wearied of his voice: "Yore discernment is very creditable," hereplied, with becoming gravity.

  The horseman glanced at him out of the corner of his eye: "Yes--I reckonso," he hazarded.

  When they reached the corral the two strangers looked in critically.Nearly a score of horses were impounded, among them several bays androans. Hopalong pointed to one of the roans. "That looks like th'horse," he remarked, quietly, at the instant his friend singled out thebay.

  "Them 's th' hosses--they 'll run th' liver out of Big Gray even if hislaig does hold out," smiled their owner, glad that his first customerhad not been as wise as either of these two men. The horses were cutout and accepted on the spot.

  "How much?" demanded Hopalong, brusquely.

  "Eighty apiece."

  "That's a lot of money. But we got to have 'em. How 'bout saddles? Wecan do without 'em if we has to, but we ain't hankerin' very strong todo it."

  "I got a couple of good ones," responded the horseman. Then he yieldedto a sudden burst of generosity. "Tell you what I 'll do--I 'll sell youthem saddles for forty apiece an' when I gets 'em back, you gets yoremoney back. An' if you don't kill th' hosses, we 'll have a littledicker over them, too. I would n't sell 'em only for a good price an'you won't have nothin' to complain about if I buys 'em back again."

  "Yo 're a white man," responded Hopalong. "Now we all oughta have adrink to bind th' deal. An' I reckon supper 'll go good, too. We 'llbe right glad to have you join us." The invitation was accepted withbecoming alacrity.

  After the meal, and a game of cards, during which both punchers hadlearned much about the surrounding country, they went on a tour ofinvestigation. They had discovered that the only way south likely to betaken by a man not perfectly familiar with the several little-knownmountain trails, was through Lone Tree Pass. A walk about the town,before turning in, disclosed to them the kind and amount of Dave'spurchases: these showed that he expected to be in the saddle more than afew hours. Returning to the hotel they went at once to their room.Sitting on the edge of the bed Hopalong asked a question: "You 've gotme on t' lay of th' land in this part of the country, Tex. Why do youfigger he 'll head south?"

  Tex blew out the light and settled himself snugly in his bed beforereplying. "Because anybody else would figger he 'd strike north for th'Canadian line, or up to Helena an' West, where a man can get lost easy.I 've sort of palled with Dave, an' I know th' skunk like a ABC book.His trail will show us th' way, but it won't tell us about th' countryahead of us. I allus like to know what I 'm goin' up against when Ican."

  "Shore; good-night," muttered Hopalong, and in a moment more soft snoresvibrated out through the open window, to be mildly criticised by thecook in the cook shack below.

  Down in the bar-room the proprietor, having said good-night to his lastcustomer, pushed the column of figures away with a sigh of satisfactionand rested his chin on his hand while he reviewed the events of the day."Why," he muttered, pugnaciously, coming out of his reveries and pouringhimself a liberal drink on the strength of the day's profits; "why, nowI know what that coyote wanted his room at the back of the housefor--good thing I got th' money ahead of time! Well, he 's got a h--l ofa lot of trouble chasin' him, anyhow, th' beat."

  * * * * *

  With three days' rations fastened to their saddles Hopalong and Texwhirled away from the Come-Again as the first streak of gray appeared inthe eastern sky and after a short distance at full speed to take thedevilishness out of their mounts, they slowed to a lope. Headingstraight for the Pass, they picked up Dave's trail less than two milesfrom town and then settled into a steady gait that ate up the mileswithout punishing their horses. They had not made any mistake in theirmounts for they were powerful and tough, spirited enough to possesstemper and courage without any undue nervous waste, and the way theycovered ground, with apparently no effort, brought a grim smile toHopalong's face.

  "I don't reckon I 'll do no swappin' back, Tex," he chuckled. "I 'veallus wanted a cayuse like this 'n, an' I reckon he 'll stay bought,even at th' price."

  "They look good--but I 'll tell you more about 'em by night," Texreplied. He glanced ahead with calm assurance: "I don't figger he's sovery far, Hoppy?"

  "Why no, Tex; he could n't ride hard last night, not over strangecountry--it was darker'n blazes. We did n't leave very long after himwhen you figger it in miles, an' he ain't reckonin' _shore_ on bein'chased. He drops out th' winder an' sneaks that way 'cause he ain'ttakin' no chances.

  "We 've got th' best cayuses, we 've had more sleep than him, we knowthis game better, we 're tougher, an' we can get more out of a cayusethan he can. I reckon we ought to get sight of him afore sundown, an' Iwould n't be surprised if we saw him shortly after noon. We 'll shoreget him 'bout noon, if he 's had any sleep."

  "I 'd ruther get him this side of Lone Tree Pass--I ain't hankerin' forno close chase through th' mountains after a cuss like Dave," Texreplied. "What do you say 'bout lettin' out another link?"

  Hopalong watched his horse for a minute, glanced critically at hiscompanion's, and tightened the grip of his knees. "That feller said ahundred an' forty in ten hours--how far is that pass? Well, might aswell find out what this cayuse can do--come on, let 'em go!"

  Pounding along at a gait which sent the wind whistling past their earsthey dipped into hollows, shot over rises, and rounded turns side byside, stirrups touching and eyes roving as they searched the trailahead. The turns they made were not as many as those in the trail theyfollowed, for often they cut straight across from one turn to another.The ability to do this brought a shrewd smile to Hopalong's thin lips.

  "Let his cayuse pick its way, Tex--told you he could n't go fast lastnight. Bet a dollar we come to where he slept afore long--an' say! luck's with us, shore. Notice how he was bearin'--a little off th' courseall th' time--that gray of his must a' come from som'ers up north. Hehad to correct that when he could see where th' Pass lay--come on, we'll try another cut-off, an' a big one."

  "Yo 're right--we 'll gain a hour, easy," Tex replied as they shot offat a tangent for the distant mountain range on a line for the Pass. Thesun was two hours higher when Tex laughed aloud, stretching his hand
across his friend's horse and pointing some distance ahead of him."There's th' track again, Hoppy," he cried, "you was right--see it?"

  Hopalong waited until they swept up along the fresh trail before hereplied and the reply was characteristic of him. "Pushin' th' grayhard, Tex. Them toe prints are purty deep--an' d--d if th' gray ain'thavin' trouble with his bad laig! See that off fore hoofmark? See howit ain't as deep as its mate? Th' gray's favorin' that laig, an' onlyfor one reason: it hurts him more when he don't. Move away a little,Tex; don't do no good to be bunched so close where there 's so muchcover. He ain't a long way off, judgin' from them tracks. We don'tknow that he ain't doubled back to pick us off as we near him."

  Tex tightened his knee-grip and rowelled his spurs lightly along theside of his mount, darting ahead with Hopalong speeding up to catch him.It was a test to see how the horses were holding up and when the animalstook up the new speed and held it with plenty of reserve strength, thetwo men let them go.

  As they shot down a rough, sloping trail to a shallow creek, flowingnoisily along the bottom of a wild arroyo, Hopalong looked ahead eagerlyand called to Tex to slow down to a walk. Tex, surprised, obeyed andtook the reins of the bay as Hopalong went ahead to cross the stream onfoot. But Tex's surprise was only momentary; he quickly understood thereason for the play and he warmed to his sagacious friend while headmired his skill.

  Hopalong waded the stream and looked carefully around on both side ofthe tracks where they left the water. Motioning Tex to come ahead, hegrinned as the other obeyed. "Did n't want to splash no fresh wateraround here till I saw if th' water Dave splashed was all soaked up. Itis; but th' spots is moist. An' another thing: see th' prints o' thathoof where he takes up an' sets down--where is he lame?"

  "Shoulder," replied Tex with instant decision.

  "Shore is. An' he 's been a-gettin' lamer every step. Bet he ain't anhour ahead, Tex."

  "Won't take you--an' he 'll be above us all th' way till we cross th'top of th' range, so we better keep under cover as much as we can," Texreplied. "We 've trailed worse men than Dave, a whole lot worse, an'far better shots; but he ain't really due to miss twice in two days.Th' Pass ain't so far ahead now--there it is, with th' blasted pinestickin' up like a flag-pole. Half an hour more an' we 'll be in it."

  Ahead of them, toiling up the Pass on a tired and limping horse rodeDave, not so fresh as he might have been with the four hours' sleep hehad secured in the open at dawn. The night ride over strange, roughcountry had been hard and his rage at the shabby trick played upon himby the horse dealer had not helped him any. To win up to the pointwhere success was almost his; and then to have a half-breed horsecoper--one who had absolutely no connection with the game--threaten todefeat him! To fool all the players, to gain, as he thought, a bighandicap and then to be delayed by a man who sought only to gain alittle money and be well rid of a poor horse! Dave's temper was likethat of a rattler hedged in by thorns and the rougher part of themountain trail had been saturated with profanity. There was not muchchance of meeting any one on that trail and by the time he reached aplace where he could get another horse, the need for one would havegone. Let him see a horseman and he knew who would ride the horse. Hestruck the limping gray savagely as it flinched over a particularlyrough part of the trail and he was growling and swearing as he rounded aturn in the Pass and came to a place where, by climbing a boulder justabove him, he could get a good view of the way he had come.Dismounting, he made the climb and looked back over the trail. Miles ofcountry were below him, the trail winding across it, hidden at times andthen running on in plain view until some hill concealed it again. Thesun was half down in the western sky and he swore again as he realizedhow much farther he should have been--how near the end of his ride.

  "A hundred an' forty miles in ten hours!" he snarled, squirming back todescend to his horse. "No wonder Bad Hawkins got caught! Served th'd--n fool right; an' it 'd serve me right for being such a----" thewords ceased and the speaker flattened himself to the rock as he peeredintently at a hill far down the trail, waiting to be sure his eyes hadnot deceived him.

  The slanting sun had made a fairyland of the rugged scenery, bathing therocks until they seemed to glow, finding cunningly hidden quartz andcrystals and turning them into points of flame. The fresh, clean greencoat that Spring had thrown over the crags as if to hide them, softenedthe harsher tones and would have thrilled even Dave, who was sated withscenery, if it had not been for his temper and the desperate straits inwhich he found himself. He lay like one dead but for the strainingeyes. An eagle, drifting carelessly across the blue, missed him in itssharp scrutiny, so well did his clothes blend with the tones of therock.

  "H--l!" he muttered, for far below him something moved out into thetrail again where it emerged from behind the hill, and two mounted mencame into sight, riding rapidly to take advantage of the short run oflevel country.

  Dave could not make them out--they were only two men at that distance,but he wasted no time nor gave heed to any optimism. He wriggledbackwards, dropped to the trail, and looked around for a place to hidehis horse. Not seeing one at hand he mounted again and forced thelimping animal forward until he saw a narrow ravine cut into themountain side by the freshets of countless years. Leading the gray intothis and around a turn in the wall, he picketed the animal and thenhastened back, scurrying to and fro in search of a hiding place thatwould give him a view of the trail for the greatest distance. His mindworked as rapidly as his feet. The coming horsemen might be innocent ofall knowledge of him or of his need. If so, he preferred to ride behindthem. If they were in pursuit--and he could not believe it to be a merecoincidence that any but an enemy would be following him so closethrough Lone Tree Pass--they had not started from the town he had justquitted--unless they had traced him by telegraph! Dave cursed softlyand settled himself a little more at ease in his ambush.

  Hopalong and Tex, enjoying that friendship that sets no embarrassment onsilence, rode forward side by side when the trail permitted it, grim,relentless, dogged. They represented that class of men who can pursueone thing to the exclusion of all tempting side leads, needing nothingbut what they themselves can supply; who approach all duties with cool,level-headed precision and gain their goal without a thought of rewardand with small regard for danger. Danger they had both met in all theforms it took on the range and trail, dance-hall and saloon; both hadmastered it by the speed and certainty of their hands and guns, andneither found anything exciting or fearful in this game of follow andtake; on the other hand it was tiresome to have to follow, and one man,at that. If some bold, daring stroke of strategy or a reckless dashcould have been hoped for, it would have made the game interesting. Sothey jogged on toward the opening of the pass, taciturn and sombre, butwith the cold patience of Indians.

  The trail narrowed again and Tex took the lead. "Closer now," heremarked, more to himself than to his companion, whose reply was agrunt, presumed to be affirmative. When they entered the pass itself itwas Hopalong who led, and to see him as he sat slouching in his saddle,apparently half asleep, one would have wondered that a man whosewariness was the basis of so many famed exploits could ride thuscarelessly, allowing his horse to pick the way. But in the shadow ofhis straight-brimmed hat, two hard, keen eyes squinted through thenarrow lids, among the wrinkles, and missed nothing that could be seen;under the faded red shirt sleeve was an arm ready for the lightning drawthat had never yet been beaten, and the hand-worn butt of the heavy Coltrubbed softly against the belt-strap of its holster.

  Hopalong rolled a cigarette and took advantage of the movement to speak:"Goin' back to Texas, Tex?"

  "Why," replied Tex, pausing to reflect. "Why, I said as how I would toall yore boys, but I reckon mebby Buck needs me worse'n you do. Whatthink?"

  "Stay up here an' run for sheriff," was the crisp reply. "This country's sick with crooks."

  "Reckon so."

  "Good place for undertakers, while th' boom is on," continued Hopalong,smilin
g grimly at the truth in his jest. He knew Tex Ewalt.

  "Th' boom 'll be busted flat afore you go home," Tex responded. "It'sfallin' now. Dave was its high-water mark."

  They were riding side by side now and Hopalong growled a suggestion: "Goslow, Tex; mebby he 's holin' up on us, like he did on Buck. He ain'tmore 'n a million miles ahead of us now."

  "Uh-huh; an' if he is he ought to get us easy in this place. Got totake a chance, anyhow. Gimme a match--_Look out_!"

  As he spoke he hurled his horse against Hopalong's and his left armdropped to his side with a bullet through it, while his right handflashed to his hip, where a pungent cloud of smoke burst out to envelophis horse's head. Off his balance from the unexpected shock, Hopalong'sshot went wide, but the next five, directed at Dave's head-long rush ashe came crashing down through the underbrush, gave promise of betteraim.

  As he spoke he hurled his horse against Hopalong's, whilehis right hand flashed to his hip]

  "I owed him that, anyhow," muttered Tex, his ears ringing from thefusillade so close to him. "An' I owed you th' play, Hoppy, ever sincethat day in th' brush--"

  "You don't owe me nothin' now, Tex; that's as close as any in tenyears," returned Hopalong. "Well, he showed hisself a d--d ambushin'snake just as we thought he would. He could a' got us both if hisnerves had n't got th' chills an' fever. We was some careless!"

  "We was a pair of blasted kids," Tex remarked. "Now what 'll we do withhim? We can't take him back, an' buryin' in solid rock ain't been in myschoolin'."

  "We can cover him with rocks, I reckon, but we ain't got time--besides,how'd he leave Buck?" demanded Hopalong sharply. "Why, he got you, Tex!Here, you close-mouthed fool, lemme fix that hole."

  Tex stood quietly thoughtful until Hopalong had finished his task. "We'll just chuck him off th' trail, Hoppy; then we won't have to answer noquestion or shoot sense into no thick skulls. How 'bout it?"

  "Uh-huh, go ahead," grunted Hopalong and the two walked over, picked upthe unresisting bulk and placed it in a fissure in the rock wall.

  "By th' Lord!" swore Tex: "Five shots out of five when you got yorebalance--_that's_ shootin'! _You_ better run for sheriff."

  "I had n't ought to 'a' done it when I knowed th' second got him--but hekept a-comin' an' I was a-thinkin' of Buck. Come on, let's get goin'."He mounted and waited impatiently for Tex, who was still standing besidehis horse as if unwilling to leave the scene. "His pot-shootin' isover, so let's start back."

  "Uh-huh," muttered Tex, still lost in thought. Hopalong waited, havingacquired increased respect for his friend's brain capacity in the lastfew days.

  "Hoppy, why did Dave ambush Buck an' have to run, just when he was goin'to skin Schatz for a pot of money?"

  "Give it up," answered Hopalong.

  "Well, why did n't Schatz turn up when everything was set for the play?"

  "Got to pass again, Tex," was Hopalong's indulgent reply.

  "Dave had plenty of chances to kill Buck--better chances than thatone--an' no need to run, if he was careful. Th' Twin River trail istravelled some--it was shore risky--no time to waste in Wayback waitin'for Schatz after that, huh?"

  "Mebby th' kid did n't get it right," suggested Hopalong.

  Tex nodded his head convincingly. "Yes, he did. Told a straight story.Hoppy, Dave knew Schatz was n't comin'. Hoppy, I got--I got afeelin'--Hoppy, what 'll you bet Dave ain't got th' money right now?"

  "By G--d!" exclaimed Hopalong, staring at his friend, his mind racingalong the scent like a hound to the kill. "By G--d!" he repeated,softly, as he dropped from the saddle and became hidden in the crevice."No money, Tex; only a few--"

  "Where's his horse?" demanded Tex, eagerly.

  "_Yo 're_ goin' to run for sheriff," came the retort, and Hopalongfollowed the track of Dave's horse and turned into the ravine, out ofsight of Tex, who waited impatiently.

  Tex was surprised at the result of the quest when a crazy man camebuck-jumping into sight, yelling like an Indian and frantically waving atightly grasped saddle pad of sacking. He would have come out with moredignity if the money had been his, but belonging as it did to his oldforeman, the big-hearted man who had been for so long a time on theverge of despair and defeat, allowed himself the luxury of freeexpression to the bubbling joy within him.

  "Come on, Tex!" he cried. "Th' h--l with goin' back--we 'll take achance of meetin' th' Dutchman as Dave Owens' personal executors an'ambassadors. If Schatz has got a wad like this, he 's th' man I want tosee. Come on! We 'll bust all Montana records for hold-ups--come on,you wise old devil!"

  "Now who 's goin' to be sheriff?" grinned Tex, and then allowed himselfthe relief of working off his joy in a short jig, which informed himthat Dave had made a hit; not a bull's eye, but a hit just the same.

  "Here, you drunk Apache," Hopalong cried, "let's count up an' see whatwe got."

  Had any one drifted along a minute later he would have been torn betweenduty and discretion: duty to provide a sane guardian in himself for thatpart of the Government treasury strayed to the wilds of these westernmountains, and discretion in facing the two capable-looking highwaymenwho sat crossed-legged on the trail with guns on the ground close totheir hands.

  "Um-m-m," murmured Tex, who knew of the size of the joint account."Schatz is lucky if he 's got carfare--th' capital of th'Peters-McAllister-Schatz combine is spread reckless under our gloatin'eyes; all except th' few miserable bills that Dave spent. Come on, yougreedy hog--we 'll let Schatz have his two-bits an' be glad to get ridof him. I 'd hate to shoot any man as fat as him--no tellin' what 'dhappen. Stick yore roll where it won't jar loose, load that right-handgun, an' see that nobody holds you up."

  "I 've allus been plumb a-scared o' hold-ups," grinned Hopalong,facetiously. "We all was. Lead costs money, an' there ain't no usewastin' it." The grin disappeared and a hard look focussed in his cleareyes as he thought of what a lovely time any hold-up squad would havewhen Buck's money was at stake.

  They mounted and rode away down the pass. As they came to the firstbend, Tex glanced back and saw Big Gray peacefully cropping the scantyvegetation along the trail by the ravine. He was without bridle orsaddle and Tex glanced covertly at the happy man at his side who couldput five bullets in a falling enemy without a pang, and immediatelyafter release a limping horse so that it could live and grow strong, toroam free among the mountains.

  Hopalong rolled both guns at once to end the celebration, the bulletsstriking a rock down the trail as fast as one could count and atintervals as regular as the hammer-stroke of a striking clock. To a manwho looked upon a gun only as a weapon to be pointed and discharged atan object, this would have been sufficiently wonderful, but to a realgun-man, one acquainted with the delicacy of manipulation and absoluteprecision required to effect this result, it was far more wonderful.There are many good gun-men who never have acquired this art, and thedanger of practising it is enough to deter most men from attempting it.To hold a six-shooter by a finger slipped through the trigger guard andmake it spin around like a pinwheel, firing it every time the muzzleswung out and away from the body, is risky; and when two guns are goingat once, it is trebly risky, while accuracy is almost impossible.Hopalong was accurate, so was Johnny, but the latter could work only onegun. Tex, being something of a master of gun-play, was capable ofappreciating the feat at its true worth and his eyes glowed at theexhibition. To him came the memory of a day far back in the years whenthis dexterity had worked to his dishonor, yet it brought with it nomalice and it was with the deep affection that a man has for a manfriend--and usually for only one--that he playfully advised hiscompanion to "load 'em up again." "Hoppy, there 's only one hand I eversee that I 'm more afraid of than that 'n o' yourn," he remarked.

  Hopalong looked at him in mild surprise: "Whose is that?" he asked.

  "Yore other one," and Tex grinned at his jest.