Hopalong Cassidy. Clarence Edward Mulford
stop it. I've been in too many tight places to get piped out where there's elbow room."
"I asked you not to say nothing more about it," she chided. "I'll come when I can. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," he replied, his sombrero under his arm. He watched her until she became lost to sight and then, suspicious, wheeled, and saw Johnny sitting quietly on his horse several hundred yards away. He called his friend to him by one wide sweep of his arm and Johnny spurred forward.
"Follow me, Johnny," he cried, dashing towards the arroyo. "Take th' other side an' look for that Greaser. I'll take this side. Edge off; yo're too close. Three hundred yards is about right."
They raced away at top speed, reckless and grim, Johnny not knowing just what it was all about; but the word Greaser needed no sauce to whet his appetite since the day he had caught Antonio watching his friend on the hill, and he scanned the plain eagerly. When they reached the other end of the arroyo Hopalong called to him: "Sweep east an' back to th' line on a circle. If you catch him, shoot off yore Colt an' hold him for me. I'm going west."
When they saw each other again it was on the line, and neither had seen any traces of Antonio, to Johnny's vexation and Hopalong's great satisfaction.
"What's up, Hoppy?" shouted Johnny.
"I reckoned that Greaser might 'a followed her so he could tell tales to Meeker," Hopalong called.
Johnny swept up recklessly, jauntily, a swagger almost in the very actions of his horse, which seemed to have caught the spirit of its rider.
"Caught you that time," he laughed—and Johnny, when in a teasing mood, could weave into his laughter an affectionate note which found swift pardon for any words he might utter. "You an' her shore make a good—" and then he saw the flower on his friend's shirt and for the moment was rendered speechless by surprise. But in him the faculty of speech was well developed and he recovered quickly. "Sufferin' coyotes! Would you look at that! What's comin' to us down here, anyway? Are you loco? Do you mean to let th' rest of th' outfit see that?"
"Calamity is comin' to th' misguided mavericks that get gay about it!" retorted Hopalong. "I wear what I feels like, an' don't you forget it, neither."
"'In thy d-a-r-k eyes splendor, where th' l-o-v-e light longs to dwel-l,'" Johnny hummed, grinning. Then his hand went out. "Good luck, Hoppy! Th' best of luck!" he cried. "She's a dandy, all right, but she ain't too good for you."
"Much obliged," Hopalong replied, shaking hands. "But suppose you tell me what all th' good luck is for. To hear you talk anybody'd think all a feller had to do was to ride with a woman to be married to her."
"Well, then take off that wart of a flower an' come on," Johnny responded.
"What? Not to save yore spotted soul! An' that ain't no wart of a flower, neither."
Johnny burst out laughing, a laugh from the soul of him, welling up in infectious spontaneity, triumphant and hearty. "Oh, oh! You bit that time! Anybody'd think about right in yore case, as far as wantin' to be married is concerned. Why, yo're hittin' th' lovely trail to matri-mony as hard as you can."
In spite of himself Hopalong had to laugh at the jibing of his friend, the Kid. He thumped him heartily across the shoulders to show how he felt about it and Johnny's breath was interfered with at a critical moment.
"Oh, just wait till th' crowd sees that blossom! Just wait," Johnny coughed.
"You keep mum about what you saw, d'y' hear?"
"Shore; but it'll be on my mind all th' time, an' I talk in my sleep when anything's on my mind."
"Then that's why I never heard you talk in yore sleep."
"Aw, g'wan! But they'll see th' flower, won't they?"
"Shore they will; but as long as they don't know how it got there they can't say much."
"They can't, hey!" Johnny exclaimed. "That's a new one on me. It's usually what they don't know about that they talks of most. What they don't know they can guess in this case, all right. Most of 'em are good on readin' signs, an' that's plain as th' devil."
"But don't you tell 'em!" Hopalong warned.
"No. I won't tell 'em, honest," Johnny replied. He could convey the information in a negative way and he grinned hopefully at the fun there would be.
"I mean it, Kid," Hopalong responded, reading the grin. "I don't care about myself; they can joke all they wants with me. But it ain't nowise right to drag her into it, savvy? She don't want to be talked about like that."
"Yo're right; they won't find out nothin' from me," and Johnny saw his fun slip from him. "I'm goin' east; comin' along?"
"No; th' other way. So long."
"Hey!" cried Johnny anxiously, drawing rein, "Frenchy said Buck was going to put some of us up in Number Five so Frenchy an' his four could ride th' line. Did Buck say anything to you about it?"
Line house Number Five was too far from the zone of excitement, if fighting should break out along the line, to please Johnny.
"He was stringin' you, Kid," Hopalong laughed. "He won't take any of th' old outfit away from here."
"Oh, I knowed that; but I thought I'd ask, that's all," and Johnny cantered away, whistling happily.
Hopalong looked after him and smiled, for Johnny had laughed and fought and teased himself into the heart of every man of the outfit: "He's shore a good Kid; an' how he likes a fight!"
CHAPTER V
HOPALONG ASSERTS HIMSELF
Paralleling West Arroyo and two miles east of it was another arroyo, through which Hopalong was riding the day following his meeting with Mary. Coming to a place where he could look over the bank he saw a herd of H2 and Three Triangle cows grazing not far away, and Antonio was in charge of them. Hopalong did not know how long they had been in the valley, nor how they had crossed the line, but their presence was enough. It angered him, for here was open and, it appeared, authorized defiance. Not content to let his herds run as they wished, Meeker was actually sending them into the valley under guard, presumably to find out what would be done about it. The H2 foreman would find that out very soon.
The Mexican looked around and wheeled sharply to face the danger, his listlessness gone in a flash. He was not there because of any orders from Meeker, but for reasons of his own. So when the Bar-20 puncher raised his arm and swept it towards the line he sat in sullen indifference, alert and crafty.
"You've got gall!" cried Hopalong. "Who told you to herd up here!"
Antonio frowned but did not reply.
"Yo're three miles too far north," continued Hopalong, riding slowly forward until their stirrups almost touched.
Antonio shrugged his shoulders.
"I ain't warbling for my health!" cried Hopalong. "You start them cows south right away."
"I can't."
Hopalong stared. "You can't! Got a sore thumb, mebby! Well, I reckon you can, an' will."
"I can't. Boss won't let me."
"Oh, he won't! Well, I feel sorry for yore boss but yo're going to push 'em just th' same."
Antonio again shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
"How long you been here, an' how'd you get in?"
"'N'our. By de rio."
"Oh, yore foreman's goin' to raise h—l, ain't he!" Hopalong snorted. "He's going to pasture on us whether we like it or not, is he? He's a land thief, that's what he is!"