Hopalong muttered and stirred and opened his eyes to gaze blankly intothose of one of the men who were tugging at his hands, and as he staredhe started his stupefied brain sluggishly to work in an endeavor toexplain the unusual experience. There were five men around him andthe two who hauled at his hands stepped back and kicked him. A look ofpained indignation slowly spread over his countenance as he realizedbeyond doubt that they were really kicking him, and with sturdy vigor.He considered a moment and then decided that such treatment was mostunwarranted and outrageous and, furthermore, that he must defend himselfand chastise the perpetrators.
"Hey!" he snorted, "what do you reckon yo're doing, anyhow? If you wantto do any kicking, why kick each other, an' I'll help you! But I'll lickthe whole bunch of you if you don't quite mauling me. Ain't you got nomanners? Don't you know anything? Come 'round waking a feller up an'man-handling--"
"Get up!" snapped Stevenson, angrily.
"Why, ain't I seen you before? Somewhere? Sometime?" queried Hopalong,his brow wrinkling from intense concentration of thought. "I ain'tdreaming; I've seen a one-eyed coyote som'ers, lately, ain't I?" heappealed, anxiously, to the others.
"Get up!" ordered Charley, shortly.
"An' I've seen you, too. Funny, all right."
"You've seen me, all right," retorted Stevenson. "Get up, damn you! Getup!"
"Why, I can't--my han's are tied!" exclaimed Hopalong in great wonder,pausing in his exertions to cogitate deeply upon this most remarkablephenomenon. "Tied up! Now what the devil do you think--"
"Use yore feet, you thief!" rejoined Stevenson roughly, stepping forwardand delivering another kick. "Use yore feet!" he reiterated.
"Thief! Me a thief! Shore I'll use my feet, you yaller dog!" yelled theprostrate man, and his boot heel sank into the stomach of the offendingMr. Stevenson with sickening force and laudable precision. He drew itback slowly, as if debating shoving it farther. "Call me a thief,hey! Come poking 'round kicking honest punchers an' calling 'em names!Anybody want the other boot?" he inquired with grave solicitation.
Stevenson sat down forcibly and rocked to and fro, doubled up andgasping for breath, and Hopalong squinted at him and grinned withhappiness. "Hear him sing! Reg'lar ol' brass band. Sounds like a cowpulling its hoofs outen the mud. Called me a thief, he did, just now.An' I won't let nobody kick me an' call me names. He's a liar, just aplain, squaw's dog liar, he--"
Two men grabbed him and raised him up, holding him tightly, and theywere not over careful to handle him gently, which he naturally resented.Charley stepped in front of him to go to the aid of Stevenson and caughtthe other boot in his groin, dropping as if he had been shot. The manon the prisoner's left emitted a yell and loosed his hold to sympathizewith a bruised shinbone, and his companion promptly knocked the boundand still intoxicated man down. Bill Thomas swore and eyed the prostratefigure with resentment and regret. "Hate to hit a man who can fight likethat when he's loaded an' tied. I'm glad, all the same, that he ain'tsober an' loose."
"An' you ain't going to hit him no more!" snapped Jed White, reddeningwith anger. "I'm ready to hang him, 'cause that's what he deserves, an'what we're here for, but I'm damned if I'll stand for any more mauling.I don't blame him for fighting, an' they didn't have no right to kickhim in the beginning."
"Didn't kick him in the beginning," grinned Bill. "Kicked him in theending. Anyhow," he continued seriously, "I didn't hit him hard--didn'thave to. Just let him go an' shoved him quick."
"I'm just naturally going to clean house," muttered the prisoner,sitting up and glaring around. "Untie my han's an' gimme a gun or a clubor anything, an' watch yoreselves get licked. Called me a thief! Whatare you fellers, then?--sticking me up an' busting me for a few measlydollars. Why didn't you take my money an' lemme sleep, 'stead of wakingme up an' kicking me? I wouldn't 'a' cared then."
"Come on, now; get up. We ain't through with you yet, not by a wholelot," growled Bill, helping him to his feet and steadying him. "I'mplumb glad you kicked 'em; it was coming to 'em."
"No, you ain't; you can't fool me," gravely assured Hopalong. "Yo'relying, an' you know it. What you going to do now? Ain't I got moneyenough? Wish I had an even break with you fellers! Wish my outfit washere!"
Stevenson, on his feet again, walked painfully up and shook his fist atthe captive, from the side. "You'll find out what we want of you, youdamned hoss-thief!" he cried. "We're going to tie you to that there limbso yore feet'll swing above the grass, that's what we're going to do."
Bill and Jed had their hands full for a moment and as they finallymastered the puncher, Charley came up with a rope. "Hurry up--no usedragging it out this way. I want to get back to the ranch some timebefore next week."
"Why _I_ ain't no hoss-thief, you liar!" Hopalong yelled. "My name'sHopalong Cassidy of the Bar-20, an' when I tell my friends about whatyou've gone an' done they'll make you hard to find! You gimme any kindof a chance an' I'll do it all by myself, sick as I am, you yallerdogs!"
"Is that yore cayuse?" demanded Charley, pointing.
Hopalong squinted towards the animal indicated. "Which one?"
"There's only one there, you fool!"
"That so?" replied Hopalong, surprised. "Well, I never seen it afore.My cayuse is--is--where the devil _is_ it?" he asked, looking aroundanxiously.
"How'd you get that one, then, if it ain't yours?"
"Never had it--'t ain't mine, nohow," replied Hopalong, with strongconviction. "Mine was a _hoss_."
"You stole that cayuse last night outen Stevenson's corral," continuedCharley, merely as a matter of form. Charley believed that a man had theright to be heard before he died--it wouldn't change the result and socould not do any harm.
"Did I? Why--" his forehead became furrowed again, but the events ofthe night before were vague in his memory and he only stumbled inhis soliloquy. "But _I_ wouldn't swap my cayuse for that spavined,saddle-galled, ring-boned bone-yard! Why, it interferes, an' it's gotthe heaves something awful!" he finished triumphantly, as if an appealto common sense would clinch things. But he made no headway againstthem, for the rope went around his neck almost before he had finishedtalking and a flurry of excitement ensued. When the dust settled he wason his back again and the rope was being tossed over the limb.
The crowd had been too busily occupied to notice anything away from thescene of their strife and were greatly surprised when they heard a hailand saw a stranger sliding to a stand not twenty feet from them. "What'sthis?" demanded the newcomer, angrily.
Charley's gun glinted as it swung up and the stranger swore again. "Whatyou doing?" he shouted. "Take that gun off'n me or I'll blow you apart!"
"Mind yore business an' sit still!" Charley snapped. "You ain't in noposition to blow anything apart. We've got a hoss-thief an' we're shoregoing to hang him regardless."
"An' if there's any trouble about it we can hang two as well as we canone," suggested Stevenson, placidly. "You sit tight an' mind yore ownaffairs, stranger," he warned.
Hopalong turned his head slowly. "He's a liar, stranger; just a plain,squaw's dog of a liar. An' I'll be much obliged if you'll lick hellouten 'em an' let--_why, hullo, hoss-thief_!" he shouted, at oncerecognizing the other. It was the man he had met in the gospel tent, theman he had chased for a horse-thief and then swapped mounts with. "Stoleany more cayuses?" he asked, grinning, believing that everything was allright now. "Did you take that cayuse back to Grant?" he finished.
"Han's up!" roared Stevenson, also covering the stranger. "So yo'reanother one of 'em, hey? We're in luck to-day. Watch him, boys, till Iget his gun. If he moves, drop him quick."
"You damned fool!" cried Ferris, white with rage. "He ain't no thief,an' neither am I! My name's Ben Ferris an' I live in Winchester. Why,that man you've got is Hopalong Cassidy--Cassidy, of the Bar-20!"
"Sit still--you can talk later, mebby," replied Stevenson, warilyapproaching him. "Watch him, boys!"
"Hold on!" shouted Ferris, murder in his eyes. "Don't you try that onme! I'll get one o
f you before I go; I'll shore get one! You can listena minute, an' I can't get away."
"All right; talk quick."
Ferris pleaded as hard as he knew how and called attention to thecondition of the prisoner. "If he did take the wrong cayuse he was tooblind drunk to know it! Can't you _see_ he was!" he cried.
"Yep; through yet?" asked Stevenson, quietly.
"No! I ain't started yet!" Ferris yelled. "He did me a good turn once,one that I can't never repay, an' I'm going to stop this murder orgo with him. If I go I'll take one of you with me, an' my friends an'outfit'll get the rest."
"Wait till Old John gets here," suggested Jed to Charley. "He ought toknow this feller."
"For the Lord's sake!" snorted Charley. "He won't show up for a week.Did you hear that, fellers?" he laughed, turning to the others.
"Stranger," began Stevenson, moving slowly ahead again. "You give usyore guns an' sit quiet till we gets this feller out of the way. We'llwait till Old John Ferris comes before doing anything with you. He oughtto know you."
"He knows me all right; an' he'd like to see me hung," replied thestranger. "I won't give up my guns, an' you won't lynch Hopalong Cassidywhile I can pull a trigger. That's flat!" He began to talk feverishlyto gain time and his eyes lighted suddenly. Seeing that Jed White waswavering, Stevenson ordered them to go on with the work they had come toperform, and he watched Ferris as a cat watches a mouse, knowing thathe would be the first man hit if the stranger got a chance to shoot. ButFerris stood up very slowly in his stirrups so as not to alarm the fivewith any quick movement, and shouted at the top of his voice, grabbingoff his sombrero and waving it frantically. A faint cheer reached hisears and made the lynchers turn quickly and look behind them. Nine menwere tearing towards them at a dead gallop and had already begun toforsake their bunched-up formation in favor of an extended line. Theywere due to arrive in a very few minutes and caused Mr. Ferris' heart tooverflow with joy.
"Me an' my outfit," he said, laughing softly and waving his hand towardsthe newcomers, "started out this morning to round up a bunch of cows,an' we got jackasses instead. Now lynch him, damn you!"
The nine swept up in skirmish order, guns out and ready for anything inthe nature of trouble that might zephyr up. "What's the matter, Ben?"asked Tom Murphy ominously. As under-foreman of the ranch he regardedhimself as spokesman. And at that instant catching sight of the rope, heswore savagely under his breath.
"Nothing, Tom; nothing now," responded Mr. Ferris. "They was going tohang my friend there, Mr. Hopalong Cassidy, of the Bar-20. He's thefeller that lent me his cayuse to get home on when Molly was sick. I'mgoing to take him back to the ranch when he gets sober an' introduce himto some very good friends of hissn that he ain't never seen. Ain't I,Cassidy?" he demanded with a laugh.
But Mr. Cassidy made no reply. He was sound asleep, as he had beensince the advent of his very good and capable friend, Mr. Ben Ferris, ofWinchester.