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Updated: July 9, 2025
Buck Peters, foreman of Bar-20 Ranch had many cowboys; Pete Wilson, Red Connors, Billy Williams, Johnny Nelson, and a goodly number more, but chief among them was Hopalong Cassidy. Many interesting stories are told about him in "Bar-20 Days" but none of his thrilling experiences ever ended as did the one recited in this most unusual story, "The End of the Trail."
"A slice out of one of your cases, I guess, Hemingway, from what I've heard," laughed Connors. "According to these boys, Tip is the fellow who knows the inside game of the High School thefts." "Let's have Scammon in the back room, then," urged Hemingway, leading the way to the guard room. The sergeant, also, followed, after summoning a reserve policeman to the desk.
You can see 'em this time of year, you know. Snow helps their reflection, Pop says." "Is that what it was? I saw it too, and when I saw the red glow in the sky I just naturally thought of that Long Lake fire last month. Say, by the way I got a postal card from that fellow in Boston, we rescued. Remember? Dave Connors is his name Gollies, every time I think of forest fires I shudder.
Then it was that the owners and foremen of the four central ranches met in Cowan's saloon and sat closeted together for all of one hot afternoon. The conference resulted in riders being dispatched from all the ranches represented, and one of the couriers, Mr. Red Connors, rode north, his destination being far-away Montana.
Connors opened the door of her pink-brocaded sitting-room, her spirit rose with the soughing rise of the elevator, and Romance hardy fellow showed himself within a murky hotel corridor. "Honeybunch!" "Babe!" said Mr. Blutch Connors, upon the slam of the lift door.
Ab Connors, the scenario editor, would take the script in hand to labor and bring forth the screen adaptation.
"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?"
If you ain't careful, we'll be buyin' that chicken-farm next week. That's what can happen to my girl if she starts something with her hubby." Suddenly Mrs. Connors crumpled in a heap upon the lacy pillows, pink sequins heaving. "Why, Babe Babe, what is it? You're sick or something to-night, honey." He lifted her to his arms, bent almost double over her.
Can't yu keep still about grub when yu knows I ain't had my morning's feed yet?" Asked Mr. Connors, much aggrieved. "Well, I'll be back directly an' I'll have them cayuses or a scalp. Yu tend to business an' watch th' herd.
He'll collect reinforcements an' mebby they all won't shoot like him. Get up on yore Clarinda an' hold th' fort for me," he ordered, pushing the farther horse over to his friend. Mr. Connors proved that an agile man can mount a restless horse and not lose the drop, and backed off three hundred yards, deftly substituting his Winchester for the Colts. Then Mr.
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