XII
SAMMY KNOWS THE GAME
A clean-cut, good-looking cowpuncher limped slightly as he passed thepostoffice and found a seat on a box in front of the store next door.He sighed with relief and gazed cheerfully at the littered square asthough it was something worth looking at. The night had not been apleasant one because Sammy Porter had insisted upon either singing orsnoring; and when breakfast was announced the youth almost had recoveredhis senses and was full of remorse and a raging thirst. Being flatlydenied the hair of the dog that bit him he grew eloquently profane andvery abusive. Hence Mr. Cassidy's fondness for the box.
Sounds obtruded. They were husky and had dimensions and they came fromthe hotel bar. After increasing in volume and carrying power they werefollowed to the street by a disheveled youth who kicked open the doorand blinked in the sunlight. Espying the contented individual on thebox he shook an earnest fist at that person and tried next door. In amoment he followed a new burst of noise to the street and shook theother fist. Trying the saloon on the other side of the hotel withoutsuccess he shook both fists and once again tried the hotel bar, where heproceeded along lines tactful, flattering and diplomatic. Onlyyesterday he had owned a gun, horse and other personal belongings; hehad possessed plenty of money, a clear head and his sins sat lightly onhis youthful soul. He still had the sins, but they had grown in weight.Tact availed him nothing, flattery was futile and diplomacy was in vain.To all his arguments the bartender sadly shook his head, not becauseSammy had no money, which was the reason he gave, but because of vividremembrance of the grimness with which a certain red-haired,straight-lipped, two-gun cowpuncher had made known his request. "Lethim suffer," had said the gunman. "It 'll be a good lesson for him.Understand; not a drop!" And the bartender had understood. To thedrink-dispenser's refusal Sammy replied with a masterpiece of eloquenceand during its delivery the bartender stood with his hand on a mallet,but too spellbound to throw it. Wheeling at the close of a vivid,soaring climax, Sammy yanked open the door again and stood transfixedwith amazement and hostile envy. His new and officious friend surelyknew the right system with women. To the burning indignities of themorning this added the last straw and Sammy bitterly resolved not toforget his wrongs.
Had Mr. Cassidy been a kitten he would have purred with delight as hewatched his youthful friend's vain search for the hair of the dog, andhis grin was threatening to engulf his ears when the Cub slammed intothe hotel. Hearing the beating of hoofs he glanced around and saw atrim, pretty young lady astride a trim, high-spirited pony; and bothwere thoroughbreds if he was any judge. They bore down upon him at asmart lope and stopped at the edge of the walk. The rider leaped fromthe saddle and ran toward him with her hand outstretched and her faceaglow with a delighted surprise. Her eyes fairly danced with welcomeand relief and her cheeks, reddened by the thrust of the wind for morethan twenty miles, flamed a deeper red, through which streaks of creamywhite played fascinatingly. "Dick Ellsworth!" she cried. "When did youget here?"
Mr. Cassidy stumbled to his feet, one hand instinctively going out tothe one held out to him, the other fiercely gripping his sombrero. Hisface flamed under its tan and he mumbled an incoherent reply.
"Don't you remember _me_?" she chided, a roguish, half-seriousexpression flashing over her countenance. "Not little Annie, whom youtaught to ride? I used to think I needed you then, Dick; but oh, how Ineed you now. It's Providence, nothing else, that sent you. Father'sgone steadily worse and now all he cares for is a bottle. Joe, the newforeman, has full charge of everything and he's not only robbing usright and left, but he 's--he 's bothering _me_! When I complain tofather of his attentions all I get is a foolish grin. If you only knewhow I have prayed for you to come back, Dick! Two bitter years of it.But now everything is all right. Tell me about yourself while I get themail and then we 'll ride home together. I suppose Joe will be waitingfor me somewhere on the trail; he usually does. Did you ever hateanyone so much you wanted to kill him?" she demanded fiercely, besideherself for the moment.
Hopalong nodded. "Well, yes; I have," he answered. "But you must n't.What's his name? We 'll have to look into this."
"Joe Worth; but let's forget him for awhile," she smiled. "I 'll getthe mail while you go after your horse."
He nodded and watched her enter the post-office and then turned andwalked thoughtfully away. She was mounted when he returned and theyswung out of the town at a lope.
"Where have you been, and what have you been doing?" she asked as theypushed along the firm, hard trail.
"Punchin' for th' Bar-20, southwest of here. I wouldn't 'a' been heretoday only I let th' outfit ride on without me. We just got back fromKansas City a couple of days back. But let's get at this here Joe Worthprop'sition. I 'm plumb curious. How long's he been pesterin' you?"
"Nearly two years--I can't stand it much longer."
"An' th' outfit don't cut in?"
"They 're his friends, and they understand that father wants it so. You'll not know father, Dick: I never thought a man could change so.Mother's death broke him as though he were a reed."
"Hum!" he grunted. "You ain't carin' how this coyote is stopped, justso he is?"
"No!" she flashed.
"An' he 'll be waitin' for you?"
"He usually is."
He grinned. "Le 's hope he is this time." He was silent a moment andlooked at her curiously. "I don't know how you 'll take it, but I got asurprise for you--a big one. I 'm shore sorry to admit it, but I ain'tth' man you think. I ain't Dick What 's-his-name, though it shore ain't_my_ fault. I reckon I must look a heap like him; an' I hope I can_act_ like him in this here matter. I want to see it through like _he_would. I can do as good a job, too. But it ain't no-wise fair nor rightto pretend I 'm him. I ain't."
She was staring at him in a way he did not like. "Not Dick Ellsworth!"she gasped. "You are _not_ Dick?"
"I 'm shore sorry--but I 'd like to play his cards. I 'm honin' for tosee this here Joe Worth," he nodded, cheerfully.
"And you let me believe you were?" she demanded coldly. "Youdeliberately led me to talk as I did?"
"Well, now; I didn't just know what to do. You shore was in trouble,which was bad. I reckoned mebby I could get you out of it an' then goalong 'bout my business. You ain't goin' to stop me a-doin' it, areyou?" he asked anxiously.
Her reply was a slow, contemptuous look that missed nothing and thatleft nothing to be said. Her horse did not like to stand, anyway, andsprang eagerly forward in answer to the sudden pressure of her knees.She rode the high-strung bay with superb art, angry, defiant, and erectas a statue. Hopalong, shaking his head slowly, gazed after her andwhen she had become a speck on the plain he growled a question to hishorse and turned sullenly toward the town. Riding straight to the hotelhe held a short, low-voiced conversation with the clerk and then soughthis friend, the Cub. This youthful grouch was glaring across the bar atthe red-faced, angry man behind it, and the atmosphere was not one ofpeace. The Cub turned to see who the newcomer was and thereupontransferred his glare to the smiling puncher.
"Hullo, Kid," breezed Hopalong.
"You go to h--l!" growled Sammy, remembering to speak respectfully tohis elders. He backed off cautiously until he could keep both of hisenemies under his eyes.
Hopalong's grin broadened. He dug into his pockets and produced a largesum of money. "Here, Kid," said he, stepping forward and thrusting itinto Sammy's paralyzed hands. "Take it an' buy all th' liquor you wants.You can get yore gun off 'n th' clerk, an' he 'll tell you where to findyore cayuse an' other belongings. I gotta leave town."
Sammy stared at the money in his hand. "What's this?" he demanded, hisface flushing angrily.
"Money," replied Hopalong. "It's that shiny stuff you buys things with.Spondulix, cash, mazuma. You spend it, you know."
Sammy sputtered. He might have frothed had his mouth not been so dry."Is it?" he demanded with great
sarcasm. "I thought mebby it was cows,or buttons. What you handin' it to me for? I ain't no d--d beggar!"
Hopalong chuckled. "That money's yourn. I pried it loose from th'tin-horn that stole it from you. I also, besides, pried off a fewchunks more; but them 's mine. I allus pays myself good wages; an' th'aforesaid chunks is plenty an' generous. Amen."
Sammy regarded his smiling friend with a frank suspicion that wasbrutal. The pleasing bulge of the pockets reassured him and he slowlypocketed his rescued wealth. He growled something doubtless meant forthanks and turned to the bar. "A large chunk of th' Mojave Desert sliddown my throat las' night an' I 'm so dry I rustles in th' breeze.Let's wet down a li'l." Having extracted some of the rustle he eyed hiscompanion suspiciously. "Thought you was a stranger hereabouts?"
"You 've called it."
"Huh! Then I 'm goin' to stick close to you an get acquainted with th'female population of th' towns we hit. An' I had allus reckonedlightnin' was quick!" he soliloquized, regretfully. "How 'd you do it?"he demanded.
Hopalong was gazing over his friend's head at a lurid chromo portrayingthe Battle of Bull Run and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That shorewas some slaughter," he commented. "Well, Kid," he said, holding out hishand, "I 'm leavin'. If you ever gets down my way an' wants a good job,drop in an' see us. Th' clerk 'll tell you how to get there. An' th'next time you gambles, stay sober."
"Hey! Wait a minute!" exclaimed Sammy. "Goin' home now?"
"Can't say as I am, direct."
"Comin' back here before you do?"
"Can't say that, neither. Life is plumb oncertain an' gunplay 's evenworse. Mebby I will if I 'm alive."
"Who you gunnin' for? Can't I take a hand?"
"Reckon not, Sammy. Why, I 'm cuttin' in where I ain't wanted, even ifI am needed. But it's my duty. It's a h--l of a community as waits fora total stranger to do its work for it. If yo 're around an' I comeback, why I 'll see you again. Meanwhile, look out for tin-horns."
Sammy followed him outside and grasped his arm. "I can hold up my endin an argument," he asserted fiercely. "You went an' did me a goodturn--lemme do _you_ one. If it's anythin' to do with that li'l girlyou met to-day I won't cut in--only on th' trouble end. I'm particularstrong on th' trouble part. Look here: Ain't a friend got no rights?"
Hopalong warmed to the eager youngster--he was so much like Jimmy; andJimmy, be it known, could bedevil Hopalong as much as any man alive andnot even get an unkind word for it. "I 'm scared to let you come, Kid;she 'd fumigate th' ranch when you left. Th' last twenty-four hours hasoutlawed you, all right. You keep to th' brush trails in th'draws--don't cavort none on skylines till you lose that biled owl look."He laughed at the other's expression and placed his hands on the youth'sshoulders. "That ain't it, Kid; I never apologizes, serious, for th'looks of my friends. They 're my friends, drunk or sober, in h--l orout of it. I just can't see how you can cut in proper. Better wait forme here--I 'll turn up, all right. Meanwhile, as I says before, lookout for tin-horns."
Sammy watched him ride away, and then slammed his sombrero on the groundand jumped on it, after which he felt relieved. Procuring his gun fromthe clerk he paused to cross-examine, but after a fruitless half hour hesauntered out, hiding his vexation, to wrestle with the problem in theopen. Passing the window of a general store he idly glanced at themeager display behind the dusty glass and a sudden grin transfigured hiscountenance. He would find out about the girl first and that would helphim solve the puzzle. Thinking thus he wandered in carelessly and hewandered out again gravely clutching a small package. Slipping behindthe next building he tore off the paper and carefully crumpled andsoiled with dust the purchase. Then he went down to the depot andfollowed the railroad tracks toward the other side of the square.Reaching the place where the south trail crossed the tracks he left themand walked slowly toward a small depression that was surrounded byhoofprints. He stooped quickly and straightened up with a woman'shandkerchief dangling from his fingers. He grinned foolishly, examinedit, sniffed at it and scratched his head while he cogitated. A decisivewave of his hand apprised the two spectators that he had arrived at aconclusion, which he bore out by heading straight for the postoffice,which was a part of the grocery store. The postmaster and grocer, inperson one, watched his approach with frank curiosity.
Sammy nodded and went in the store, followed by the proprietor."Howd'y," he remarked, producing the handkerchief. "Just picked this upover on th' trail. Know who dropped it?"
"Annie Allison, I reckon," replied the other. "She came in that way fromth' Bar-U. Want to leave it?"
Sammy considered. "Why, I might as well take it to her--I'm goin' downthere purty soon. Don't know any other ranch that might use abroncho-buster, do you?"
The proprietor shook his head. "No; most folks 'round here bust theirown. Perfessional?"
Sammy nodded. "Yes. Here, gimme two-bits' worth of them pep'mintlozengers. Yes, it shore is fine; but it 'll rain before long. Well,by-by."
The bartender of the "Retreat" sniffed suspiciously and eyed the opendoor thoughtfully, holding aloft the bar-mop while he considered. Thenhe put the mop on the bar and went to the door, where he peered out."Huh!" he grunted. "Hogin' that?" he sarcastically inquired. Sammy heldout the bag and led the way to the bar. "Where's th' Bar-U? Yes? Dotheir own broncho-bustin'? Who, me? Ain't nothin' on laigs can throwme, includin' humans an' bartenders. What? Well, what you want to getall skinned up for, for nothin'? Five dollars? If you must lose it Imight as well have it. One fall? All right; come out here an' get it."
The bartender chuckled and vaulted the counter as advance notice of hisagility and physical condition, and immediately there ensued a softshuffling. Suddenly the building shook and dusted itself and Sammyarose and stepped back, smiling at his victim. "Thanks," he remarked."Good money was spent on part of my education--boxin' bein' th' otherhalf. Now, for five more, where can't I hit you?"
"Behind th' bar," grinned the other; "I got deadly weapons there. Lookhere!" he exclaimed hurriedly as a great idea struck him. "Everybody'round here will back their wrastlin' reckless; le 's team up an' makesome easy money. I 'll make th' bets an' you win 'em. Split even. Whatsay?"
"Later on, mebby. What'd you say that Bar-U foreman's name was?"
The bartender's reply was supplemented by a pious suggestion. "An' ifyou wrastles _him_, bust his cussed neck!"
"Why this friendship?" queried Sammy, laughing.
"Oh, just for general principles."
Sammy bought cigars, left some lozenges and went out to search for hishorse, which he duly found. Inwardly he was elated and he flexed hismuscles and made curious motions with his arms, which caused thepie-bald to show the whites of its eyes wickedly and flatten its raggedears. Its actions were justified, for a left hand darted out andslapped the wrinkling muzzle, deftly escaping the clicking teeth. Thenthe warlike pie-bald reflected judiciously as it chewed the lozenge.The eyes showed less white and the ears, moving forward and back,compromised by one staying forward. The candy was old and stale and thesting of the mint was negligible, but the sugar was much in evidence.When the hand darted out again the answering nip was playful and theears were set rigidly forward. Sammy laughed, slipped several morelozenges into the ready mouth, vaulted lightly to the saddle and rodeslowly toward the square. The pie-bald kicked mildly and reached aroundto nip at the stirrup, and then went on about its business as anywell-broken cow pony should. Reaching the square Sammy drew reinsuddenly and watched a horseman who was riding away from the "Retreat."Waiting a few minutes Sammy spurred forward to the saloon and called thebartender out to him. "Who was that feller that just left?" he asked,curiously.
"Joe Worth, th' man yo 're goin' to strike for that job. Why don't youcatch him now an' mebby save yoreself a day's ride?"
"Good idea," endorsed Sammy. "See you later," and the youth wheeled andloped toward the trail, but drew rein when hidden from the "Retreat" bysome buildings. He watche
d the distant horseman until he became a meredot and then Sammy pushed on after him. There was a satisfied look onhis face and he chuckled as he cogitated. "I shore got th' drift ofthis; I know th' game! Wonder how Cassidy got onto it?" He laughedcontentedly. "Well, five hundred ain't too little to split two ways;an' mebby it is a two-man job. Mr. Joe Worth, who was once Mr. GeorgeAtkins, I would n't give a peso for yore chances after I get th' lay ofth' ground an' find out yore habits. Yo 're goin' back to WillowSprings as shore as 'dogies' hang 'round water holes. An' you 'll shoredance their tune when you gets there."
Mr. Cassidy, arriving at the Bar-U, asked for the foreman and was toldthat the boss was in town, but would be back sometime in the afternoon.The newcomer replied that he would return later and, carefully keepingout of sight of the ranch house as well as he could, he wheeled and rodeback the way he had come, being very desirous to have a good look at theforeman before they met. Arriving at an arroyo several miles north ofthe ranch he turned into it and, leaving his horse picketed on goodgrass along the bottom, he climbed to a position where he could see thetrail without being seen. Having settled himself comfortably heimproved the wait by trying to think out the best way to accomplish thework he had set himself to do. Shooting was too common and hardlyjustifiable unless Mr. Worth forced the issue with weapons of war.
The time passed slowly and he was relieved when a horseman appeared farto the north and jogged toward him, riding with the careless grace ofone at home in the saddle. Being thoroughly familiar with the trail andthe surrounding country the rider looked straight ahead as if attentionto the distance yet untraveled might make it less. He passed withintwenty feet of the watcher and went on his way undisturbed. Hopalongwaited until he was out of sight around a hill and then, vaulting intothe saddle, rode after him, still puzzled as to how he would proceedabout the business in hand. He dismounted at the bunkhouse and noddedto those who lingered near the wash bench awaiting their turn.
"Just in time to feed," remarked one of the punchers. "Watch yore turnat th' basins--every man for hisself 's th' rule."
"All right," Hopalong laughed. "But is there any chance to get a jobhere?" he asked, anxiously.
"You 'll have to quiz th' Ol' Man--here he comes now," and the puncherwaved at the approaching foreman. "Hey, Joe! Got a job for thishombre?" he called.
The foreman keenly scrutinized the newcomer, as he always examinedstrangers. The two guns swinging low on the hips caught his eyesinstantly but he showed no particular interest in them, notwithstandingthe fact that they proclaimed a gunman. "Why I reckon I got a job foryou," he said. "I been waitin' to keep somebody over on Cherokee Range.But it's time to eat: we'll talk later."
After the meal the outfit passed the time in various ways untilbed-time, the foreman talking to the new member of his family. Duringthe night the foreman awakened several times and looked toward thenewcomer's bunk but found nothing suspicious. After breakfast he calledHopalong and one of the others to him. "Ned," he said, "take Cassidyover to his range and come right back. Hey, Charley! You an' Jim takethem poles down to th' ford an' fence in that quicksand just south ofit. Ben says he 's been doin' nothin' but pullin' cows outen it. Allright, Tim; comin' right away."
Ned and the new puncher lost no time but headed east at once with apackhorse carrying a week's provisions for one man. The country grewrougher rapidly and when they finally reached the divide a beautifulsight lay below them, stretching as far as eye could see to the east.In the middle distance gleamed the Cherokee, flowing toward the souththrough its valley of rocks, canyons, cliffs, draws and timber.
"There 's th' hut," said Ned, pointing to a small gray blot against thedead black of a towering cliff. "Th' spring's just south of it. BucketHill, up north there, is th' north boundary; Twin Spires, south yonderis th' other end; an' th' Cherokee will stop you on th' east side. Youride in every Sat'day if you wants. Don't get lonesome," he grinnedand, wheeling abruptly, went back the way they had come.
Hopalong shook his head in disgust. To be sidetracked like this wasmaddening. It had taken three hours of hard traveling over roughcountry to get where he was and it would take as long to return; and allfor nothing! He regarded the pack animal with a grin, shrugged hisshoulders and led the way toward the hut, the pack horse followingobediently. It was another hour before he finally reached the littlecabin, for the way was strange and rough. During this time he hadtalked aloud, for he had the tricks of his kind and when alone he talkedto himself. When he reached the hut he relieved the pack horse of itsload, carrying the stuff inside. Closing the door and blocking it with arock he found the spring, drank his fill and then let the horses dolikewise. Then he mounted and started back over the rough trail,thinking out loud and confiding to his horse and he entered a narrowdefile close to the top of the divide, promising dire things to theforeman. Suddenly a rope settled over him, pinned his arms to his sidesand yanked him from the saddle before he had time to think. He landedon his head and was dazed as he sat up and looked around. The foreman'srifle confronted him, and behind the foreman's feet were his two Colts.
"You talks too much," sneered the man with the drop. "I suspicioned youth' minute I laid eyes on you. It 'll take a better man than you to getthat five hundred reward. I reckon th' Sheriff was too scared to comehisself."
Hopalong shook his head as if to clear it. What was the man talkingabout? Who was the sheriff? He gave it up, but would not betray hisignorance. Yes; he had talked too much. He felt of his head and wasmildly surprised to see his hand covered with blood when he glanced atit. "Five hundred 's a lot of money," he muttered.
"Blood money!" snapped the foreman. "You had a gall tryin' to get me.Why, I been lookin' for somebody to try it for two years. An' I wasready every minute of all that time."
Slowly it came to Hopalong and with it the realization of how foolish itwould be to deny the part ascribed to himself. The rope was loose andhis arms were practically free; the foreman had dropped the lariat andwas depending upon his gun. The captive felt of his head again and,putting his hands behind him for assistance in getting up, arose slowlyto his feet. In one of the hands was a small rock that it had restedupon during the effort of rising. At the movement the foreman watchedhim closely and ordered him not to take a step if he wanted to live alittle longer.
"I reckon I 'll have to shoot you," he announced. "I dass n't let youloose to foller me all over th' country. Anyhow, I 'd have to do itsooner or later. I wish you was Phelps, d--n him; but he's a wisesheriff. Better stand up agin' that wall. I gotta do it; an' youdeserve it, you Judas!"
"Meanin' yo're Christ?" sneered Hopalong. "Did you kill th' other fellerlike that? If I 'd 'a' knowed that I 'd 'a' slapped yore dawg's face atth' bunkhouse an' made you take an even break. Shore you got nerveenough to shoot straight if I looks at you while yo 're aimin'?" Helaughed cynically. "I don't want to close my eyes."
The foreman's face went white and he half lowered the rifle as he took astep forward. Hopalong leaped sideways and his arm straightened out, theother staggering under the blow of the missile. Leaping forwardHopalong ran into a cloud of smoke and staggered as he jumped to closequarters. His hand smashed full in the foreman's face and his knee sankin the foreman's groin. They went down, the foreman weak from the kickand Hopalong sick and weak from the bullet that had grazed the bone ofhis bad thigh. And lying on the ground they fought in a daze, eachincapable of inflicting serious injury for awhile. But the foreman grewstronger as his enemy grew weaker from loss of blood and, wriggling fromunder his furious antagonist, he reached for his Colt. Hopalong threwhimself forward and gripped the gun wrist between his teeth and closedhis jaws until they ached. But the foreman, pounding ceaselessly on theother's face with his free hand, made the jaws relax and drew theweapon. Then he saw all the stars in the heavens as Hopalong's headcrashed full against his jaw and before he could recover the gun waspinned under his enemy's knee. Hopalong's head crashed again againstthe foreman's jaw a
nd his right hand gripped the corded throat while theleft, its thumb inside the foreman's cheek and its fingers behind anear, tugged and strained at the distorted face. Growling like wildbeasts they strained and panted, and then, suddenly, Hopalong's griprelaxed and he made one last, desperate effort to bring his strengthback into one furious attack; but in vain. The battered foreman, quickto sense the situation, wrestled his adversary to one side long enoughto grab the Colt from under the shifting knee. As he clutched it a shotrang out and the weapon dropped from his nerveless hand before he couldpull the trigger. An exulting, savage yell roared in his ears and inthe next instant he seemed to leave the ground and soar through space.He dropped ten feet away and lay dazed and helpless as a knee crashedagainst his chest. Sammy Porter, his face working curiously with reliefand rage, rolled him against the wall of the defile and struck him overthe head with a rifle butt, first disarming him.
Hopalong opened his eyes and looked around, dazed and sick. Theforeman, bound hand and foot by a forty-five foot lariat, lay close tothe base of the wall and stared sullenly at the sky. Sammy was coming upthe trail with a dripping sombrero held carefully in his hands and wasgrowling and talking it all over. Hopalong looked down at his thigh andsaw a heavy, blood-splotched bandage fastened clumsily in place.Glancing at Sammy again he idly noted that part of the youth'sblue-flannel shirt was missing. Curiously, it matched the bandage. Heclosed his eyes and tried to think what it was all about.
Sammy ambled up to him, threw some water in the bruised face and thengrinned cheerfully at the language he evoked. Producing a flask andholding it up to the light, Sammy slid his thumb to a certain level andthen shoved the bottle against his friend's teeth. "Huh!" he chuckled,yanking the bottle away. "You'll be all right in a couple of days. Butyou shore are one h--l of a sight--it's a toss-up between you an'Atkins."
* * * * *
It was night. Hopalong stirred and arose on one elbow and noticed thathe was lying on a blanket that covered a generous depth of leaves andpine boughs. The sap-filled firewood crackled and popped and hissed andwhistled under the licking attack of the greedy flames, which flared upand died down in endless alternation, and which grotesquely revealed toHopalong's throbbing eyes a bound figure lying on another blanket.That, he decided, was the foreman. Letting his gaze wander around thelighted circle he made out a figure squatting on the other side of thefire, and concluded it was Sammy Porter. "What you doin', Kid?" heasked.
Sammy arose and walked over to him. "Oh, just watchin' a fool puncheran' five hundred dollars," he grinned. "How you feelin' now, you ol'sage hen?"
"Good," replied the invalid, and, comparatively, it was the truth."Fine an' strong," he added, which was not the truth.
"That's the way to talk," cheered the Cub. "You shore had one fineseance. You earned that five hundred, all right."
Hopalong reflected and then looked across at the prisoner. "He canfight like the devil," he muttered. "Why, I kicked him hard enough tokill anybody else." He turned again and looked Sammy in the eyes,smiling as best he could. "There ain't no five hundred for me, Kid. Idid n't come for that, did n't know nothin' about it. An' it's bloodmoney, besides. We 'll turn him loose if he 'll get out of the country,hey? We 'll give him a chance; either that or you take th' reward."
Sammy stared, grunted and stared again. "What you ravin' about?" hedemanded. "An' you didn't come after him for that money?" he asked,sarcastically.
Hopalong nodded and smiled again. "That's right, Kid," he answered,thoughtfully. "I come down to make him get out of th' country. You lethim go after we get out of this. I reckon I got yore share of thereward right here in my pocket; purty near that much, anyhow. You takeit an' let him vamoose. What you say?"
Sammy rose, angry and disgusted. His anger spoke first. "You go toh--l with yore money! I don't want it!" Then, slowly and wonderinglyspoke his disgust. "He 's yourn; do what you want. But I here remarks,frank an' candid, open an' so all may hear, that yo 're a large,puzzlin' d--d fool. Now lay back on that blanket an' go to sleep aforeI changes my mind!"
Sammy drifted past the prisoner and looked down at him. "Hear that?" hedemanded. There was no answer and he grunted. "Huh! You heard it, allright; an' it plumb stunned you." Passing on he grabbed the lastblanket in sight, it was on the foreman's horse, and rolled up in it,feet to the fire. His gun he placed under the saddle he had leanedagainst, which now made his pillow. As he squirmed into the mostcomfortable position he could find under the circumstances he raised hishead and glanced across at his friend. "Huh!" he growled softly."That's th' worst of them sentimental fellers. That gal shore wrappedhim 'round her li'l finger all right. Oh, well," he sighed. "'Tain'tnone of my doin's, thank the Lord; I got sense!" And with thesatisfaction of this thought still warm upon him he closed his eyes andwent to sleep, confident that the slightest sound would awaken him; andfully justified in his confidence.