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Updated: June 11, 2025
Hopalong was firmly convinced that his day of hard riding was well worth while, for the Bar-20 was to be represented in strength. Probably a clearer insight into his idea of a carnival can be gained by his definition, grouchily expressed to Red Connors on the day following the last affair: "Raise cain, go broke, wake up an' begin punching cows all over again."
Hopalong Cassidy rode rapidly over the plain, thinking about the joys and excitement promised by the carnival to be held at Muddy Wells. With that rivalry so common to Western towns the inhabitants maintained that the carnival was to break all records, this because it was to be held in their town.
"Yore day's about over, Harlan," he muttered. "There's going to be some few funerals around here before many hours pass." When he reached the store he found the owner and two Double-Arrow punchers taking care of Johnny. "Where's Hopalong?" he asked. "Gone to tell his foreman," replied Jackson. "Hey, youngster, you let them bandages alone! Hear me?"
The increase in the light caused by these openings allowed Red and Lanky to secure better aim and soon the fire of the defenders died out. Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and dashed for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening with a fusilade. As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly missed sudden death.
"Red's got a few remarks to shout to yu about yore pain-killer. Yu better send for some decent stuff afore he comes to town," he warned. Buck swung away from the bar and looked at his dead cigar. Then he turned to Hopalong. "What did you find?" He asked. "Same old story: nice wide trail up to th' Staked Plain then nothin'." "It shore beats me," soliloquized the foreman. "It shore beats me."
Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in his grumbling. "What's the latest from Abilene way?" Asked Buck of Frenchy. "Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction," replied the recruit. "What's that?" Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.
They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where they found Hopalong in the manner narrated. After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque, twelve miles to the south.
He asked as he finished. "I think Charley oughter be yore guardian," replied the foreman. "He was," replied Hopalong. "If we sees Tex we'll all grin hard," laughed Red, making for the door. "Come on to th' contests Lanky's gone already." Muddy Wells streamed to the carnival grounds and relieved itself of its enthusiasm and money at the booths on the way.
Anyhow, if I did let him brand me I'd only backslide in a week," and Hopalong pressed his pony to a more rapid gait as two men emerged from the tent. "There's the sky-pilot now," he muttered "an' there's Dave!" he shouted, waving his arm. "Oh, Dave! Dave!" Dave Wilkes looked up, and his grin of delight threatened to engulf his ears. "Hullo, Cassidy! Glad to see you!
You can't do a thing agin us, an' you know it." Boggs rested his hands on his hips and considered, Hopalong waiting for him to reply. He knew that the Bar-20 man was right but he hated to admit it, he hated to say he was whipped. "Are any of them six hurt?" he finally asked. "Only scratches an' sore heads," responded Hopalong, smiling. "We ain't tried to kill anybody, yet.
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