Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The town had begun to grow wearisome and they were vastly relieved when they realized that the rising sun would see them in the saddle and homeward bound, headed for God's country, which was the only place for cow-punchers after all. "Long way from the home port, ain't you, mates?" queried a tar of Hopalong.
I ain't going to fall down. Don't you know my eyes are full of 'dobe?" Red, avoiding another kick, hastily complied, and as hastily left Mr. Cassidy to wash out the dirt while he returned to his post by the window. "Anybody'd think you was full of red-eye, the way you act," muttered Red peevishly. Hopalong, rubbing his eyes of the dirt, went back to the hole in the wall and looked out. "Hey, Red!
The fight drifted in among the buildings, where it became a series of isolated duels, and soon Hopalong saw panic-stricken horses carrying their riders out of the other side of the town. Then he went gunning for the man who had rustled his horse. He was unsuccessful and returned to his peaches.
He tossed a gold coin on the table, and the clerk, still holding tightly to the shotgun, tossed the coin into the cash box and cautiously slid the change across the counter. Hopalong picked up the money and, emptying his holster into the nail keg, followed his companion to the street, in turn followed slowly by the suspicious clerk.
A handful of 'dobe dust sprang from the corner of the building and sifted down upon them, causing Red to cough. "That ricochet was a Sharps!" exclaimed Hopalong, and they lost no time in getting into the building, where the discussion was renewed as they prepared for the final struggle.
Skinny Thompson, his hand on his gun, seemed paralyzed; his mouth was open to frame a reply that never was uttered and he stared through narrowed eyelids at the blunderer. The sole movement in the room was the slow rising of Hopalong and the markedly innocent shuffling of the cards by Elkins, who appeared to be entirely ignorant of the weight and effect of his words.
"Huh; you'll be wanting it worse than ever if we do," smiled Dave. "Say, Hoppy," advised Tom Lawrence, "better drop in an' hear the sky-pilot's palaver before you go. It'll do you a whole lot of good, an' it can't do you no harm, anyhow." "You going?" asked Hopalong suspiciously. "Can't got too much work to do," quickly responded Tom, his brother Art nodding happy confirmation.
"Here," remarked Hopalong, holding out his rifle, "stencil yore mark on his hide; catch him just as he strikes the top of that little rise." "Ain't got time that shack can't be much further." And it wasn't, for as they galloped over a rise they saw, half a mile ahead of them, an adobe building in poor state of preservation.
With the sixteen from the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered. Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his journey.
"Why, you " there was a sudden flurry and Johnny's words were cut short in the melee. "Good, Red! Ouch!" shouted Hopalong. "Look out! Got any rope, Dent? Well, hurry up: there ain't no telling what he'll do if he's loose. The mescal they sells down in this country ain't liquor it's poison," he panted. "An' he can't even stand whiskey!"
Word Of The Day