"Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an' Hopalong can sing 'em to sleep," interposed Johnny, afraid that the expedition would fall through.

"How about Curley and Tex?" Pugnaciously asked Billy.

"Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't think they's dangerous. Salvation an' Tenspot are only ones who can shoot,"

stoutly maintained Johnny.

"Here yu, get mum," ordered Buck to the pair. "When this outfit goes after anything it generally gets it. All in favor of kidnappin' that outfit signify di' same by kickin' Billy," whereupon Bill swore.

"Do yu want yore hat?" Asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.

"I sh.o.r.e do," answered that individual.

"If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu. Fifty a month an'

grub," offered the foreman.

"O.K." replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.

Buck looked at his watch. "Seven o'clock--we ought to get there by five if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe. Come on."

"How are we goin' to git them?" Asked Billy.

"Yu leave that to me, son. Hopalong an' Frenchy'll tend to that part of it," replied Buck, making for his horse and swinging into the saddle, an example which was followed by the others, including Frenchy.

As they swung off Buck noticed the condition of Frenchy's mount and halted. "Yu take that cayuse back an' get Cowan's," he ordered.

"That cayuse is good for Cheyenne--she eats work, an' besides I wants my own," laughed Frenchy.

"Yu must had a reg'lar picnic from th' looks of that crease,"

volunteered Hopalong, whose curiosity was mastering him. "Shoo! I had a little argument with some feather dusters--th' O-Bar-O crowd cleaned them up."

"That so?" Asked Buck.

"Yep! They sorter got into th' habit of chasin' me to Las Cruces an'

forgot to stop."

"How many'd yu get?" Asked Lanky Smith.

"Twelve. Two got away. I got two before th' crowd showed up--that makes fo'teen."

"Now th' cavalry'll be huntin' yu," croaked Billy.

"Hunt nothin'! They was in war-paint-think I was a target?--Think I was goin' to call off their shots for 'em?"

They relayed at the Barred-Horseshoe and went on their way at the same pace. Shortly after leaving the last-named ranch Buck turned to Frenchy and asked, "Any of that outfit think they can play poker?"

"Sh.o.r.e. Waffles."

"Does th' reverend Mr. Waffles think so very hard?"

"He sh.o.r.e does."

"Do th' rest of them mavericks think so too?"

"They'd bet their shirts on him."

At this juncture all were startled by a sudden eruption from Billy.

"Haw! Haw! Haw!" he roared as the drift of Buck's intentions struck him.

"Haw! Haw! Haw!"

"Here, yu long-winded coyote," yelled Red, banging him over the head with his quirt, "If yu don't 'Haw! Haw!' away from my ear I'll make it a Wow! Wow! What d'yu mean? Think I am a echo cliff? Yu slabsided doodle-bug, yu!"

"G'way, yu crimson topknot, think my head's a hunk of quartz? Fer a plugged peso I'd strew yu all over th' scenery!" shouted Billy, feigning anger and rubbing his head.

"There ain't no scenery around here," interposed Lanky. "This here be-utiful prospect is a sublime conception of th' devil."

"Easy, boy! Them highfalutin' words'il give yu a cramp some day. Yu talk like a newly-made sergeant," remarked Skinny.

"He learned them words from the sky-pilot over at El Paso," volunteered Hopalong, winking at Red. "He used to amble down th' aisle afore the lights was lit so's he could get a front seat. That was all hunky for a while, but every time he'd go out to irrigate, that female organ-wrastler would seem to call th' music off for his special benefit.

So in a month he'd sneak in an' freeze to a chair by th' door, an' after a while he'd shy like blazes every time he got within eye range of th'

church."

"Sh.o.r.e. But do yu know what made him get religion all of a sudden? He used to hang around on di' outside after th' joint let out an' trail along behind di' music-slinger, lookin' like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Then when he got woozy one time she up an' told him that she had got a nice long letter from her hubby. Then Mr. Lanky hit th'

trail for Santa Fe so hard that there wasn't hardly none of it left. I didn't see him for a whole month," supplied Red innocently.

"Yore sh.o.r.e funny, ain't yu?" sarcastically grunted Lanky. "Why, I can tell things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year."

"I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them. Yu ought to be ashamed of yoreself."

"Yah!" snorted the aggrieved little man. "I had business over to Santa Fe!"

"Sh.o.r.e," endorsed Hopalong. "We've all had business over to Santa Fe.

Why, about eight years ago I had business--"

"Choke up," interposed Red. "About eight years ago yu was washin' pans for cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges. Buck used to larrup yu about four times a day eight years ago."

To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where, red-faced and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.

"We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang," began Billy for the third time.

"For heaven's sake get off that trail!" replied Lanky. "We aint goin' to hold 'em up. De-plomacy's th' game."

Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in his grumbling.

"What's the latest from Abilene way?" Asked Buck of Frenchy.

"Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction," replied the recruit.

"What's that?" Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.