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Updated: May 24, 2025
Skinny Thompson had lost and drawn with Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, in the broncho-busting event, but as Skinny had improved greatly in the interval, his friends confidently expected him to "yank first place" for the honor of his ranch.
Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an' his vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town plumb off th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own account. I'll prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long. It's cost me seventeen friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or make another."
The announcer conferred with the timekeepers and then stepped forward: "First, Skinny Thompson, Bar-20, thirty minutes and ten seconds; second, Lefty Allen, O-Bar-O, forty minutes and seven seconds." Skinny returned to his friends shamefacedly and did not look as if he had just won a championship.
Oh we're red-hot cow-punchers playin' on our luck, An' there ain't a proposition that we won't buck: From sunrise to sunset we've ridden on the range, But now we're oft for a howlin' change. Laugh a little, sing a little, all th' day; Play a little, drink a little we can pay; Ride a little, dig a little an' rich we'll grow. Oh, we're that bunch from th' O-Bar-O!
"Why, how do you know of whom I procured it?" She asked. "By th' brand: it's a O-Bar-O, canceled, with J. H. over it. He buys all of his cayuses from th' O-Bar-O." She found out his name, and, after an interval of silence, she turned to him with eyes full of inquiry: "What is that thorny shrub just ahead?" She asked. "That's mesquite," he replied eagerly. "Tell me all about it," she commanded.
"That cayuse is good for Cheyenne she eats work, an' besides I wants my own," laughed Frenchy. "Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease," volunteered Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him. "Shoo! I had a little argument with some feather dusters th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned them up." "That so?" Asked Buck. "Yep!
Trendley's cabin that night and several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways. Two men leaned against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and the range. One of them, Lefty Allen, of the O-Bar-O, sang in his sweet tenor, and other men gradually strolled up and seated themselves on the ground, where the fitful gleam of responsive pipes and cigarettes showed like fireflies.
The O-Bar-O, situated close to the town of Muddy Wells, increased its payroll by the addition of nine men, each of whom bore the written recommendation of the foreman of the Bar-20.
"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed Waffles, sinking the branding-iron in the flank of a calf. The scene was one of great activity and hilarity. Several fires were burning near the huge corral and in them half a dozen irons were getting hot.
If he "got mad" he was to be regarded as not sufficiently well acquainted for banter and he was at once in hot water; if he took it good-naturedly he was one of the crowd in spirit; but in either case he didn't get his hat without begging or fighting for it. This was a recognized custom among the O-Bar-O outfit and was not intended as an insult. Frenchy grabbed at the empty air and arose.
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