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Updated: May 12, 2025
The return of James Cassidy was the one bit of joy in the awful gloom at the rescue headquarters, where gathered the victims of flood, fire and famine. A woman, maddened by the horrors of the day, fought with Bill Riley and his companion, Charles Wagner, who had rescued her in a boat. She bit Riley in the hand and choked Wagner, who sought to restrain her.
'In wandhrin' through th' hall, I just seen a man with a coat on, he says. Great excitement ensood, says me frind Cassidy; an' th' thremblin' victim was brought down th' aisle. 'What have ye to say f'r ye'ersilf? demands th' chairman in thundhrin' tones. 'On'y this, says th' goold-bug. 'I wandhered in here, lookin' f'r frinds, he says. 'I am not a goold-bug, he says.
"Who owns a bob-tailed pinto, saddle-galled, cast in th' near eye, Star Diamond brand, white stockin' on th' off front prop, with a habit of scratchin' itself every other minute?" went on Mr. Connors. "Slim Travennes," replied the proprietor, flopping a flapjack. Mr. Cassidy reflectively scratched the back of his hand and looked innocent, but his mind was working overtime. "Who's Slim Travennes?"
So, now, while he got slowly to his feet, he took care to keep at a respectful distance from the official, though his big hands fairly ached to double into fists for blows with this man who had so maltreated him. His own self-respect, of its peculiar sort, was saved by the interference of Cassidy, who entered the Inspector's office to announce the arrival of the District Attorney.
But he put a strong arm round the woman and her burden, where the snow was heaviest, and the wind from the sea blew like a hurricane. They were the only passengers by the ferry, and neither the ferryman nor his mate knew Mary Cassidy, with the shawl drawn over her eyes.
I'd be a fine sort of a coyote to leave him in that hell hole an' not go back, wouldn't I!" he said, with quiet determination. "Good for you, Cassidy!" cried a man who hastened out to mount. "Well, then, come on," replied Buck. "There's blamed few like you," he muttered, following Hopalong outside. "Here's the cayuse, Cassidy," cried Cowan, turning the animal over to him.
Cassidy dismounted and viewed the building with open disgust, walking around it to see what held it up, and when he finally realized that it was self-supporting his astonishment was profound. Undoubtedly there were shacks in the United States in worse condition, but he hoped their number was small. Of course he knew that the building was small.
Cassidy went to the ranch and lived like a lord until shame drove him away. He had no business to live on cake and pie and wonderful dishes that Mrs. Ferris and her sister literally forced on him, and let Buck's mission wait on his convenience.
Then he straightened up and sniffed: "What's burnin'?" he asked, simulating alarm. Then he noticed the cigar between the teeth of his foreman and grinned: "Gee, but yore a brave man, Buck." "Hullo, Hopalong," said the foreman. "Want a smoke?" Waving his hand toward the box on the bar. Mr. Hopalong Cassidy side-stepped and began to roll a cigarette: "Shore, but I'll burn my own I know what it is."
Travennes and two companions were walking toward the corral and Mr. Cassidy once again slid out of the window, his friend going by the door. When Mr. Travennes looked over the corral fence he was much chagrined to see a man and a Colt both paying strict attention to his nose. "Mornin', Duke," said the man with the gun. "Lose anything?" Mr. Travennes looked back at his friends and saw Mr.
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