Bar-20 Days

  CHAPTER VI

  HOPALONG LOSES A HORSE

  For a month after their return from the San Miguel, Hopalong and hiscompanions worked with renewed zest, and told and retold the othermembers of the outfit of their unusual experiences near the Mexicanborder. Word had come up to them that Martin had secured the convictionof the smugglers and was in line for immediate advancement. No one onthe range had the heart to meet Johnny Nelson, for Johnny carried withhim a piece of the ghost, and became pugnacious if his once-jeeringfriends and acquaintances refused to nibble on it. Cowan still sold hisremarkable drink, but he had yielded to Johnny's persuasive methods andnow called it "Nelson's Pet."

  One bright day the outfit started rounding up a small herd ofthree-year-olds, which Buck had sold, and by the end of the week theherd was complete and ready for the drive. This took two weeks and whenHopalong led his drive outfit through Hoyt's Corners on its homewardjourney he felt the pull of the town of Grant, some miles distant, andit was too strong to be resisted. Flinging a word of explanation to thenearest puncher, he turned to lope away, when Red's voice checked him.Red wanted to delay his home-coming for a day or two and attend to apurely personal matter at a ranch lying to the west. Hopalong, knowingthe reason for Red's wish, grinned and told him to go, and not topropose until he had thought the matter over very carefully. Red's replywas characteristic, and after arranging a rendezvous and naming thetime, the two separated and rode toward their destinations, while therest of the outfit kept on towards their ranch.

  "A man owes something to _all_ his friends," Hopalong mused. In thiscase he owed a return game of draw poker to certain of Grant's leadingcitizens, and he liked to pay his obligations when opportunity offered.

  It was mid-afternoon when he topped a rise and saw below him the handfulof shacks making up the town. A look of pleased interest flickeredacross his face as he noticed a patched and dirty tent pitched close upto the nearest shack. "Show!" he exclaimed. "Now, ain't that luck!I'll shore take it in. If it's a circus, mebby it has a trick mule toride--I'll never forget that one up in Kansas City," he grinned. Butalmost instantly a doubt arose and tempered the grin. "Huh! Mebby it'sthe branding chute of some gospel sharp." As he drew near he focussedhis eyes on the canvas and found that his fears were justified.

  "All Are Welcome," he spelled out slowly. "Shore they are!" he muttered."I never nowhere saw such hard-working, all-embracing rustlers as themfellers. They'll stick their iron on anything from a wobbly calf ordying dogie to a staggering-with-age mosshead, an' shout 'tally one'with the same joy. Well, not for mine, _this_ trip. I'm going to grazeloose an' buck-jump all I wants. Anyhow, if I did let him brand me I'donly backslide in a week," and Hopalong pressed his pony to a more rapidgait as two men emerged from the tent. "There's the sky-pilot now," hemuttered--"an' there's Dave!" he shouted, waving his arm. "Oh, Dave!Dave!"

  Dave Wilkes looked up, and his grin of delight threatened to engulfhis ears. "Hullo, Cassidy! Glad to see you! Keep right on for thestore--I'll be with you in a minute." When David told his companion thevisitor's name the evangelist held up his hand eloquently and spoke.

  "I know all about him!" he exclaimed sorrowfully. "If I can lead him outof his wickedness I will rest content though I save no more souls thisfortnight. Is it all true?"

  "Huh! What true?"

  "All that I have heard about him."

  "Well, I dunno what you've heard," replied Dave, with grave caution,"but I reckon it might be if it didn't cover lying, stealing, cowardice,an' such coyote traits. He's shore a holy terror with a short gun, allright, but lemme tell you something mebby you _ain't_ heard: There ain'ta square man in this part of the country that won't feel some honoredan' proud to be called a friend of Hopalong Cassidy. Them's thesentiments rampaging hereabouts. I ain't denying that he's gone an'killed off a lot of men first an' last--but the only trouble there isthat he didn't get 'em soon enough. They all had lived too blamed longwhen they went an' stacked up agin him an' that lightning short gun ofhissn. But, say, if yo're calculating to tackle him at yore game, leadhim gentle--don't push none. He comes to life real sudden when he'sshoved. So long; see you later, mebby."

  The revivalist looked after him and mused, "I hope I was informed wrong,but this much I have to be thankful for: The wickedness of most of thesemen, these over-grown children, is manly, stalwart, and open; few ofthem are vicious or contemptible. Their one great curse is drink."

  When Hopalong entered the store he was vociferously welcomed by twomen, and the proprietor joining them, the circle was complete. When theconversation threatened to repeat itself cards were brought and the nexttwo hours passed very rapidly. They were expensive hours to the Bar-20puncher, who finally arose with an apologetic grin and slapped his thighsignificantly.

  "Well, you've got it all; I'm busted wide open, except for a measlydollar, an' I shore hopes you don't want that," he laughed. "You play awhole lot better than you did the last time I was here. I've got to movealong. I'm going east an' see Wallace an' from there I've got to meetRed an' ride home with him. But you come an' see us when you can--it's_me_ that wants revenge this time."

  "Huh; you'll be wanting it worse than ever if we do," smiled Dave.

  "Say, Hoppy," advised Tom Lawrence, "better drop in an' hear thesky-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 Artnodding happy confirmation.

  "Huh; I reckoned so!" snorted Hopalong sarcastically, as he shook handsall around. "You all know where to find us--drop in an' see us when youget down our way," he invited.

  "Sorry you can't stay longer, Cassidy," remarked Dave, as his friendmounted. "But come up again soon--an' be shore to tell all the boys wewas asking for 'em," he called.

  Considering the speed with which Hopalong started for Wallace's, hemight have been expecting a relay of "quarter" horses to keep it going,but he pulled up short at the tent. Such inconsistency is trying to thetemper of the best-mannered horse, and this particular animal was not inthe least good-mannered, wherefore its rider was obliged to soothe itsresentment in his own peculiar way, listening meanwhile to the loud andimpassioned voice of the evangelist haranguing his small audience.

  "I wonder," said Hopalong, glancing through the door, "if them friendsof mine reckon I'm any ascared to go in that tent? Huh, I'll just show'em anyhow!" whereupon he dismounted, flung the reins over his horse'shead, and strode through the doorway.

  The nearest seat, a bench made by placing a bottom board of theevangelist's wagon across two up-ended boxes, was close enough to theexhorter and he dropped into it and glanced carelessly at his nearestneighbor. The carelessness went out of his bearing as his eyes fastenedthemselves in a stare on the man's neck-kerchief. Hopalong was hardenedto awful sights and at his best was not an artistic soul, but thevillainous riot of fiery crimson, gaudy yellow, and pugnacious anddomineering green which flaunted defiance and insolence from thestranger's neck caused his breath to hang over one count and then comedouble strong at the next exhalation. "Gee whiz!" he whispered.

  The stranger slowly turned his head and looked coldly upon the impudentdisturber of his reverent reflections. "Meaning?" he questioned, withan upward slant in his voice. The neck-kerchief seemed to grow suddenlymalignant and about to spring. "Meaning?" repeated the other with greatinsolence, while his eyes looked a challenge.

  While Hopalong's eyes left the scrambled color-insult and tried tobanish the horrible after-image, his mind groped for the rules ofetiquette governing free fist fights in gospel tents, and while hehesitated as to whether he should dent the classic profile of thecolor-bearer or just twist his nose as a sign of displeasure, the voiceof the evangelist arose to a roar and thundered out. Hopalong duckedinstinctively.

  "--Stop! Stop before it is too late, before death takes you in thewallow of your sins! Repent and gain salvation--"

  Ho
palong felt relieved, but his face retained its expression ofchildlike innocence even after he realized that he was not beingpersonally addressed; and he glanced around. It took him ninety-sevenseconds to see everything there was to be seen, and his eyes were drawnirresistibly back to the stranger's kerchief. "Awful! Awful thing fora drinking man to wear, or run up against unexpectedly!" he muttered,blinking. "Worse than snakes," he added thoughtfully.

  "Look ahere, you--" began the owner of the offensive decoration, if itmight be called such, but the evangelist drowned his voice in anotherflight of eloquence.

  "--_Peace_! _Peace_ is the message of the Lord to His children," roaredthe voice from the upturned soap box, and when the speaker turned andlooked in the direction of the two men-with-a-difference he found themsitting up very straight and apparently drinking in his words with greatrelish; whereupon he felt that he was making gratifying progress towardthe salvation of their spotted souls. He was very glad, indeed, that hehad been so grievously misinformed about the personal attributes of oneHopalong Cassidy,--glad and thankful.

  "Death cometh as a thief in the night," the voice went on. "Think ofthe friends who have gone before; who were well one minute and gone thenext! And it must come to all of us, to all of us, to me and to you--"

  The man with the afflicted neck started rocking the bench.

  "Something is coming to somebody purty soon," murmured Hopalong. Hebegan to sidle over towards his neighbor, his near hand doubled up intoa huge knot of protuberant knuckles and white-streaked fingers; but ashe was about to deliver his hint that he was greatly displeased at theantics of the bench, a sob came to his ears. Turning his head swiftly,he caught sight of the stranger's face, and sorrow was marked sostrongly upon it that the sight made Hopalong gape. His hand openedslowly and he cautiously sidled back again, disgruntled, puzzled,and vexed at himself for having strayed into a game where he was sohopelessly at sea. He thought it all over carefully and then gave it upas being too deep for him to solve. But he determined one thing: He wasnot going to leave before the other man did, anyhow.

  "An' if I catch that howling kerchief outside," he muttered, smackinghis lips with satisfaction at what was in store for it. His visitto Wallace was not very important, anyway, and it could wait on moreimportant events.

  "There sits a sinner!" thundered out the exhorter, and Hopalong lookedstealthily around for a sight of a villain. "God only has the right topunish. 'Vengeance is mine,' saith the Lord, and whosoever takes thelaw into his own hands, whosoever takes human life, defies the Creator.There sits a man who has killed his fellow-men, his brothers! Are younot a sinner, _Cassidy_?"

  Cassidy jumped clear of the bench as he jerked his head around andstared over the suddenly outstretched arm and pointing finger of thespeaker and into his accusing eyes.

  "Answer me! Are you not a sinner?"

  Hopalong stood up, confused, bewildered, and then his suspended thoughtsstirred and formed. "Guilty, I reckon, an' in the first degree. But theydidn't get no more'n what was coming to 'em, no more'n they earned. An'that's straight!"

  "How do you know they didn't? How do you know they earned it? How do you_know_?" demanded the evangelist, who was delighted with the chance toargue with a sinner. He had great faith in "personal contact," andhis was the assurance of training, of the man well rehearsed and fullyprepared. And he knew that if he should be pinned into a corner by logicand asked for _his_ proofs, that he could squirm out easily and take theoffensive again by appealing to faith, the last word in sophistry, and agreater and more powerful weapon than intelligence. _This_ was his game,and it was fixed; he could not lose if he could arouse enough interestin a man to hold him to the end of the argument. He continued to drive,to crowd. "What right have you to think so? What right have you to judgethem? Have you divine insight? Are you inspired? 'Judge not lest ye bejudged,' saith the Lord, and you _dare_ to fly in the face of that greatcommand!"

  "You've got me picking the pea in _this_ game, all right," respondedHopalong, dropping back on the bench. "But lemme tell you one thing;Command or no command, devine or not devine, I know when a man haslived too long, an' when he's going to try to get me. An' all the gospelsharps south of heaven can't stop me from handing a thief what he'searned. Go on with the show, but count me out."

  While the evangelist warmed to the attack, vaguely realizing that hehad made a mistake in not heeding Dave Wilkes' tip, Hopalong becameconscious of a sense of relief stealing over him and he looked aroundwonderingly for the cause. The man with the kerchief had "folded histents" and departed; and Hopalong, heaving a sigh of satisfaction,settled himself more comfortably and gave real attention to thediscourse, although he did not reply to the warm and eloquent man on thesoap box. Suddenly he sat up with a start as he remembered that he had along and hard ride before him if he wished to see Wallace, and arising,strode towards the exit, his chest up and his chin thrust out. The onlyreply he made to the excited and personal remarks of the revivalist wasto stop at the door and drop his last dollar into the yeast box beforepassing out.

  For a moment he stood still and pondered, his head too full of whathe had heard to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened.Although the evangelist had adopted the wrong method he had gainedmore than he knew and Hopalong had something to take home with him andwrestle out for himself in spare moments; that is, he would have hadbut for one thing: As he slowly looked around for his horse he came tohimself with a sharp jerk, and hot profanity routed the germ of religionincubating in his soul. His horse was missing! Here was a pretty mess,he thought savagely; and then his expression of anger and perplexitygave way to a flickering grin as the probable solution came to his mind.

  "By the Lord, I never saw such a bunch to play jokes," he laughed."Won't they never grow up? They was watching me when I went inside an'sneaked up and rustled my cayuse. Well, I'll get back again without muchtrouble, all right. They ought to know me better by this time."

  "Hey, stranger!" he called to a man who was riding past, "have you seenanything of a skinny roan cayuse fifteen han's high, white stocking onthe near foreleg, an' a bandage on the off fetlock, Bar-20 being thebrand?"

  The stranger, knowing the grinning inquisitor by sight, suspected thata joke was being played: he also knew Dave Wilkes and that gentleman'sfriends. He chuckled and determined to help it along a little. "Shoredid, pardner; saw a man leading him real cautious. Was he yourn?"

  "Oh, no; not at all. He belonged to my great-great-grandfather, who lefthim to my second cousin. You see, I borrowed it," he grinned, making hisway leisurely towards the general store, kept by his friend Dave, thejoker. "Funny how everybody likes a joke," he muttered, opening the doorof the store. "Hey, Dave," he called.

  Mr. Wilkes wheeled suddenly and stared. "Why, I thought you was half-wayto Wallace's by now!" he exclaimed. "Did you come back to lose that lonedollar?"

  "Oh, I lost that too. But yo're a real smart cuss, now ain't you?"queried Hopalong, his eyes twinkling and his face wreathed with goodhumor. "An' how innocent you act, too. Thought you could scare me,didn't you? Thought I'd go tearing 'round this fool town like a houseafire, hey? Well, I reckon you can guess again. Now, I'm owning up thatthe joke's on me, so you hand over my cayuse, an' I'll make up for losttime."

  Dave Wilkes' face expressed several things, but surprise was dominant."Why, I ain't even seen yore ol' cayuse, you chump! Last time I saw ityou was on him, going like the devil. Did somebody pull you off it an'take it away from you?" he demanded with great sarcasm. "Is somebodyabusing you?"

  Hopalong bit into a generous handful of dried apricots, chewedcomplacently for a moment, and replied: "'At's aw right; I want mycayuse." Swallowing hastily, he continued: "I want it, an' I've come tothe right place for it, too. Hand it over, David."

  "Dod blast it, I tell you I ain't got it!" retorted Dave, beginningto suspect that something was radically wrong. "I ain't seen it, an' Idon't know nothing about it."

  Hopalong wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Well, then, Tom or Art
does,all right."

  "No, they don't, neither; I watched 'em leave an' they rode straightout of town, an' went the other way, same as they allus do." Dave wasgetting irritated. "Look here, you; are you joking or drunk, or both, oris that animule of yourn really missing?"

  "Huh!" snorted Hopalong, trying some new prunes. "'Ese prunes er purtygood," he mumbled, in grave congratulation. "I don' get prunes like 'esevery of'n."

  "I reckon you don't! They ought to be good! Cost me thirty cents ahalf-pound," Dave retorted with asperity, anxiously shifting his feet.It didn't take much of a loss to wipe out a day's profits with him.

  "An' I don't reckon you paid none too much for 'em, at that," Mr.Cassidy responded, nodding his head in comprehension. "Ain't no worms in'em, is there?"

  "Shore there is!" exploded Dave. "Plumb full of 'em!"

  "You don't say! Hardly know whether to take a chance with the worms ortry the apricots. Ain't no worms in them, anyhow. But when am I going toget my cayuse? I've got a long way to go, an' delay is costly--how muchdid you say these yaller fellers cost?" he asked significantly, tryinganother handful of apricots.

  "On the dead level, cross my heart an' hope to die, but I ain't seenyore cayuse since you left here," earnestly replied Dave. "If you don'tknow where it is, then somebody went an' lifted it. It looks like it'sup to you to do some hunting, 'stead of cultivating a belly-ache at _my_expense. _I_ ain't trying to keep you, God knows!"

  Hopalong glanced out of the window as he considered, and saw, enteringthe saloon, the same puncher who had confessed to seeing his horse. "HeyDave; wait a minute!" and he dashed out of the store and made good timetowards the liquid refreshment parlor. Dave promptly nailed the coverson the boxes of prunes and apricots and leaned innocently against thecracker box to await results, thinking hard all the while. It lookedlike a plain case of horse-stealing to him.

  "Stranger," cried Hopalong, bouncing into the bar-room, "where did yousee that cayuse of mine?"

  "The ancient relic of yore family was aheading towards Hoyt's Corners,"the stranger replied, grinning broadly. "It's a long walk. Havesomething before you starts?"

  "Damn the walk! Who was riding him?"

  "Nobody at all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He wasn't being rid when I saw him."

  "Hang it, man; that cayuse was stole from me!"

  "Somewhat in the nature of a calamity, now ain't it?" smiled thestranger, enjoying his contributions to the success of the joke.

  "You bet yore life it is!" shouted Hopalong, growing red and then pale."You tell me who was leading him, understand?"

  "Well, I couldn't see his face, honest I couldn't," replied thestranger. "Every time I tried it I was shore blinded by the most awfulan' horrible neck-kerchief I've ever had the hard luck to lay my eyeson. Of all the drunks I ever met, them there colors was--Hey! Wait aminute!" he shouted at Hopalong's back.

  "Dave, gimme yore cayuse an' a rifle--quick!" cried Hopalong fromthe middle of the street as he ran towards the store. "Hypocriteson-of-a-hoss-thief went an' run mine off. Might 'a' knowed nobody but athief could wear such a kerchief!"

  "I'm with you!" shouted Dave, leading the way on the run towards thecorral in the rear of his store.

  "No, you ain't with me, neither!" replied Hopalong, deftly saddling."This ain't no plain hoss-thief case--it's a private grudge. See youlater, mebby," and he was pacing a cloud of dust towards the outskirtsof the town.

  Dave looked after him. "Well, that feller has shore got a big start onyou, but he can't keep ahead of that Doll of mine for very long. She canout-run anything in these parts. 'Sides, Cassidy's cayuse looked sortof done up, while mine's as fresh as a bird. That thief will get what'scoming to him, all right."