mulford clarence e - bar-20 days

8/12/2019 Mulford Clarence E - Bar-20 Days

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bar-20Days, by Clarence E. Mulford

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Title: Bar-20 Days

Author: Clarence E. Mulford

Release Date: April 22, 2006 [EBook #4922]Last Updated: February 6, 2013

Language: English

** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKBAR-20 DAYS ***


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roduced by Dagny; John Bickers; DavidWidger

BAR-20 DAYS


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By Clarence E.Mulford

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO

"M. D."

CONTENTS


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BAR-20 DAYS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX


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CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI


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CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

BAR-20 DAYS


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CHAPTER I

ON A STRANGE RANGE

Two tired but happy punchers rode intohe coast town and dismounted in front ohe best hotel. Putting up their horses as

quickly as possible they madearrangements for sleeping quarters andhen hastened out to attend to business.

Buck had been kind to delegate thismission to them and they would feel freeo enjoy what pleasures the town migh

afford. While at that time the city was nowhat it is now, nevertheless it wascapable of satisfying what demands migh


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be made upon it by two very active andzealous cow-punchers. Their firsexperience began as they left the hotel.

"Hey, you cow-wrastlers!" said a notunpleasant voice, and they turneduspiciously as it continued: "You'vehore got to hang up them guns with the

hotel clerk while you cavorts around ohis range. This is fence country."

They regarded the speaker's smilin

ace and twinkling eyes and laughed.Well, yo're the foreman if you owns thatbadge," grinned Hopalong, cheerfully.We don't need no guns, nohow, in this

own, we don't. Plumb forgot we wasoting them. But mebby you can tell us

where lawyer Jeremiah T. Jones grazes indaylight?"


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"Right over yonder, second floor,"eplied the marshal. "An' come to think ot, mebby you better leave most of yore

cash with the gunssomebody'll take iaway from you if you don't. It'd be aawful temptation, an' flesh is weak."

"Huh!" laughed Johnny, moving back nto the hotel to leave his gun, closelollowed by Hopalong. "Anybody that caurn that little trick on me an' Hoppy will

hore earn every red cent; why, we'vebeen to Kansas City!"As they emerged again Johnny slapped

his pocket, from which sounded a musical

ingling. "If them weak people try anythinon us, we may come between them andheir money!" he boasted.

"From the bottom of my heart I pit


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you," called the marshal, watching thedepart, a broad smile illuminating hisace. "In about twenty-four hours they'll

put up a holler for me to go git it back for em," he muttered. "An' I almost believe'll do it, too. I ain't never seen none ohat breed what ever left a town withou

empty pockets an' aching headsan' themarter they think they are the easier theall." A fleeting expression of discontent

clouded the smile, for the lure of the opeange is hard to resist when once a ma

has ridden free under its sky and watchedts stars. "An' I wish I was one of 'e

again," he muttered, sauntering on.Jeremiah T. Jones, Esq., was busywhen his door opened, but he leaned bacn his chair and smiled pleasantly at their

bow-legged entry, waving them towards


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wo chairs. Hopalong hung his sombreroon a letter press and tipped his chair bacagainst the wall; Johnny hung grimly to his

hat, sat stiffly upright until he noticed hiscompanion's pose, and then, deciding thaeverything was all right, and thaHopalong was better up in etiquette thahimself, pitched his sombrero dexterouslover the water pitcher and also leanedagainst the wall. Nobody could lose hiwhen it came to doing the right thing.

"Well, gentlemen, you look tired andhirsty. This is considered good for all

human ailments of whatsoever nature,

degree, or wheresoever located, in part or entirety, ab initio ," Mr. Jones remarked,illing glasses. There was no argument and

when the glasses were empty, he

continued: "Now what can I do for you?


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From the Bar-20? Ah, yes; I wasexpecting you. We'll get right at it," andhey did. Half an hour later they emerged

on the street, free to take in the town, or tohave the town take them in,which wasusually the case.

"What was that he said for us to keepaway from?" asked Johnny with keenterest.

"Sh! Not so loud," chuckled Hopalong,

winking prodigiously.Johnny pulled tentatively at his upper

ip but before he could reply hiscompanion had accosted a stranger.

"Friend, we're pilgrims in a strangeand, an' we don't know the trails. Can yoell us where the docks are?"

"Certainly; glad to. You'll find them at


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place, blamed if I don't.""Why, now yo're talkingmebby we

can buy something," grinned Hopalong,happily. "Here's a hardware storecomeon in."

The clerk looked up and laid aside his

novel. "Good-morning, gentlemen; whacan I do for you? We've just got in someine new rifles," he suggested.

The customers exchanged looks and i

was Hopalong who first found his voice.Nope, don't want no rifles," he replied,

glancing around. "To tell the truth, I don'tknow just what we do want, but we wanomething, all rightgot to have it. It's aunny thing, come to think of it; I can'

never pass a hardware store without goinn an' buying something. I've been told m


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ather was the same way, so I must inheritt. It's the same with my pardner, here,

only he gets his weakness from his whole

amily, and it's different from mine. Hecan't pass a saloon without going in an'buying something."

"Yo're a cheerful liar, an' you know it,"etorted Johnny. "You know the reason

why I goes in saloons so muchyou'dnever leave 'em if I didn't drag you out. He

nherits that weakness from hisgrandfather, twice removed," he confidedo the astonished clerk, whose expressio

didn't know what to express.

"Let's see: a saw?" soliloquizedHopalong. "Nope; got lots of 'em, an'hey're all genuine Colts," he musedhoughtfully. "Axe? Nails? Augurs?


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Corkscrews? Can we use a corkscrew,Johnny? Ah, thought I'd wake you up.

ow, what was it Cookie said for us to

bring him? Bacon? Got any bacon? Toobadoh, don't apologize; it's all right.Cold chiselsthat's the thing if you ain'got no bacon. Let me see a three-poundcold chisel about as big as that," extending a huge and crooked forefinger,"an' with a big bulge at one end.Straight in the middle, circling off into ahree-cornered wavy edge on the other ide. What? Look here! You can't tell us

nothing about saloons that we don't know.

want a three-pound cold chisel, any kind,o it's cold."Johnny nudged him. "How about the

wedges?"


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"Twenty-five cents a pound," explainedhe clerk, groping for his bearings.

"They might do," Hopalong muttered,orcing the article mentioned into his

holster. "Why, they're quite hocus-pocus.You take the brother to mine, Johnny."

"Feels good, but I dunno," hiscompanion muttered. "Little wide at theharp end. Hey, got any loose shot?" heuddenly asked, whereat Hopalon

beamed and the clerk gasped. It didn'eem to matter whether they bought bacon,cold chisels, wedges, or shot; yet theooked sober.

"Yes, sir; what size?""Three pounds of shot, I said!" Johnn

umbled in his throat. "Never mind wha

ize."


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"We never care about size when we buhot," Hopalong smiled. "But, Johnny,

wouldn't them little screws be better?" he

asked, pointing eagerly."Mebby; reckon we better get 'e

mixedhalf of each," Johnny graveleplied. "Anyhow, there ain't much

difference."The clerk had been behind that counter

or four years, and executing and fillin

orders had become a habit with him; elsehe would have given them six pounds ocold chisels and corkscrews, mixed. Hismouth was still open when he weighed ou

he screws."Mix 'em! Mix 'em!" roared Hopalong,

and the stunned clerk complied, andcharged them for the whole purchase at the


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ate set down for screws.Hopalong started to pour his purchase

nto the holster which, being open at thebottom, gayly passed the first instalmenhrough to the floor. He stopped andooked appealingly at Johnny, and Johnny,n pain from holding back screams oaughter, looked at him indignantly. Then a

guileless smile crept over Hopalong's faceand he stopped the opening with a wad o

wrapping paper and disposed of the shoand screws, Johnny following his laudableexample. After haggling a moment over he bill they paid it and walked out, to the

apparent joy of the clerk."Don't laugh, Kid; you'll spoil it all,"

warned Hopalong, as he noted signs odistress on his companion's face. "Now,


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hen; what was it we said about thirst?Come on; I see one already."

Having entered the saloon and ordered,Hopalong beamed upon the bartender andhoved his glass back again. "One more,

kind stranger; it's good stuff."

"Yes, feels like a shore-enough gun,"emarked Johnny, combining two thoughtsn one expression, which is brevity.

The bartender looked at him quickl

and then stood quite still and listened, apuzzled expression on his face.

Tictickety-ticktic-tic , came strangeounds from the other side of the bar.

Hopalong was intently studying a chromoon the wall and Johnny gazed vacantly ouof the window.

"What's that? What in the deuce is


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hat?" quickly demanded the man with theapron, swiftly reaching for his bung-tarter.

Tickety-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic , the noisewent on, and Hopalong, slowly rolling hiseyes, looked at the floor. A screwebounded and struck his foot, while sho

were rolling recklessly."Them's making the noise," Johnn

explained after critical survey.

"Hang it! I knowed we ought to 'a' gohem wedges!" Hopalong exclaimed,

petulantly, closing the bottom of theheath. "Why, I won't have no gun leftoon 'less I holds it in." The complain

was plaintive."Must be filtering through the stopper,"

Johnny remarked. "But don't it sound nice,


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especially when it hits that brasscuspidor!"

The bartender, grasping the mallet evenmore firmly, arose on his toes and peeredover the bar, not quite sure of what hemight discover. He had read of infernalmachines although he had never seen one.What the blazes!" he exclaimed in almos

a whisper; and then his face went hard.You get out of here, quick! You've had

oo much already! I've seen drunks, but G'wan! Get out!""But we ain't begun yet," Hopalon

nterposed hastily. "You see"

"Never mind what I see! I'd hate to seewhat you'll be seeing before long. Godhelp you when you finish!" rather mpolitely interrupted the bartender. He


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waved the mallet and made for the end ohe counter with no hesitancy and lots o

purpose in his stride. "G'wan, now! Ge

out!""Come on, Johnny; I'd shoot him onl

we didn't put no powder with the shot,"Hopalong remarked sadly, leading theway out of the saloon and towards thehardware store.

"You better get out!" shouted the man

with the mallet, waving the weapodefiantly. "An' don't you never come back again, neither," he warned.

"Hey, it leaked," Hopalong saidpleasantly as he closed the door of thehardware store behind him, whereupon theclerk jumped and reached for the sawed-off shotgun behind the counter. Sawed-of


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among the nails. "It does drop when yoet go of it," he observed.

"Didn't I tell you it would? I allus saido," replied Hopalong, looking back to the

clerk and the shotgun. "Didn't I, stranger?"The clerk's reply was a guttural

umbling, ninety per cent profanity, andHopalong, nodding wisely, picked up twowedges. "Johnny, here's yore gun. If thisman will stop talking to hisself and drop

hat lead-sprayer long enough to take our good money, we'll wear em."He tossed a gold coin on the table, and

he clerk, still holding tightly to thehotgun, tossed the coin into the cash bo

and cautiously slid the change across thecounter. Hopalong picked up the moneyand, emptying his holster into the nail keg,


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ollowed his companion to the street, iurn followed slowly by the suspicious

clerk. The door slammed shut behind

hem, the bolt shot home, and the clerk sadown on a box and cogitated.

Hopalong hooked his arm througJohnny's and started down the street. "Iwonder what that feller thinks about us,anyhow. I'm glad Buck sent Red over to ElPaso instead of us. Won't he be mad when

we tell him all the fun we've had?" heasked, grinning broadly.They were to meet Red at Dent's store

on the way back and ride home together.

They were strangely clad for their urroundings, the chaps glaringly out o

place in the Seaman's Port, and winkswere exchanged by the regular habitues


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when the two punchers entered the rooand called for drinks. They were ver ired and a little under the weather, for

hey had made the most of their time andpent almost all of their money; but an

one counting on robbing them would haveound them sober enough to look out for hemselves. Night had found them ready to

go to the hotel, but on the way they felt thahey must have one more bracer, and finisheir exploration of Jeremiah T. Jones'abooed section. The town had begun to

grow wearisome and they were vastlelieved when they realized that the risin

un would see them in the saddle andhomeward bound, headed for God'scountry, which was the only place for cow-punchers after all.

"Long way from the home port, ain'


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you, mates?" queried a tar of Hopalong.Another seaman went to the bar to hold ahort, whispered consultation with the

bartender, who at first frowned and theninally nodded assent.

"Too far from home, if that's what yo'redriving at," Hopalong replied. "Blashese hard trailsmy feet are shore on the

prod. Ever meet my side pardner? Johnny,here's a friend of mine, a salt-water

puncher, an' he's welcome to the job, too."Johnny turned his head ponderously andnodded. "Pleased to meet you, stranger.An' what'll you all have?"

"Old Holland, mate," replied the other,oining them.

"All up!" invited Hopalong, wavin

hem forward. "Might as well do things


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ight or not at all. Them's my sentiments,which I holds as proper. Plain rye,general, if you means me," he replied to

he bartender's look of inquiry.He drained the glass and then made a

grimace. "Tastes a little offreckon it'smy mouth; nothing tastes right in thiscussed town. Now, up on our" Hetopped and caught at the bar. "Holymoke! That's shore alcohol!"

Johnny was relaxing and vainly tryino command his will power. "Something'swrong; what's the matter?" he mutteredleepily.

"Guess you meant beer; you ain't usedo drinking whiskey," grinned the

bartender, derisively, and watching himclosely.


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"I candrink as much whiskey as"and, muttering, Johnny slipped to the floor.

"That wasn't whiskey!" cried Hopalong,leepily, "that liquor was fixed !" hehouted, sudden anger bracing him. "An''m going to fix you , too!" he added,eaching for his gun, and drawing forth a

wedge. His sailor friend leaped at him, togo down like a log, and Hopalong,eething with rage, wheeled and threw the

weapon at the man behind the bar, whoalso went down. The wedge, glancinrom his skull, swept a row of bottles and

glasses from the shelf and, caroming, wen

hrough the window.In an instant Hopalong was the vorte

of a mass of struggling men and,handicapped as he was, fought valiantly,


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whispered orders, and then the squeakinof oars grew steadily fainter in thedirection of a ship which lay indistinct i

he darkness.


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CHAPTER II

THE REBOUND

A man moaned and stirred restlessly ina bunk, muttering incoherently. Atampeded herd was thundering over him,he grinding hoofs beating him slowly to

death. He saw one mad steer stop andower its head to gore him and just as theharp horns touched his skin, he

awakened. Slowly opening his bloodshoeyes he squinted about him, sick, weak,acking with pain where heavy shoes hadtruck him in the melee, his headeverberating with roars which seemed


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almost to split it open. Slowly he regainedhis full senses and began to make out hisurroundings. He was in a bunk whic

moved up and down, from side to side,and was never still. There was a small,ound window near his feetthan

heaven it was open, for he was almosuffocated by the foul air and the heat.

Where was he? What had happened? Washere a salty odor in the air, or was he still

dreaming? Painfully raising himself oone elbow he looked around and caughight of a man in the bunk across. It was

Johnny Nelson! Then, bit by bit, the whole

hing came to him and he cursed heartilas he reviewed it and reached the onlpossible conclusion. He was at sea! He,Hopalong Cassidy, the best fighting unit o

a good fighting outfit, shanghaied and a


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ea! Drugged, beaten, and stolen to labor on a ship.

Johnny was muttering and moaning andHopalong slowly climbed out of thenarrow bunk, unsteadily crossed themoving floor, and shook him. "Reckonhe's in a stampede, too!" he growled.They shore raised hl with us. Oh, wha

a beating we got! But we'll pass it alonwith trimmings."

Johnny's eyes opened and he lookedaround in confusion. "Wha', Hopalong!""Yes; it's me, the prize idiot of a

blamed good pair of 'em. How'd yoeel?"

"Sleepy an' sick. My eyes ache an' mhead's splitting. Where's Buck an' the

est?"


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"You're right as far as you go; but youdon't go to the eating part. We'll starve, an'we ain't got no water. I can drink about a

bucketful right now," moodily replied hiscompanion.

"Well, yo're right; but mebby we canind food an' water."

"Don't see no signs of none. Hey!"Johnny exclaimed, smiling faintly in hismisery. "Let's get busy an' burn the cussed

hing up! Got any matches?""First you want to drown yoresel

wimming, an' now you want to roast thepair of us to death," Hopalong retorted,eyeing the rear wall of the room. "Wonder what's on the other side of that partition?"

Johnny looked. "Why, water; an' lots o

t, too."


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"Naw; the water is on the other sides.""Then how do I know?sh! I hear

omebody coming on the roof.""Tumble back in yore bunkquick!"

Hopalong hurriedly whispered. "Beasleepif he comes down here it'll be our

deal."The steps overhead stopped at thecompanionway and a shadow appearedacross the small patch of sunlight on the

loor of the forecastle. "Tumble up here,you blasted loafers!" roared a deep voice.

No reply came from the forecastletheilence was unbroken.

"If I have to come down there I'll" theirst mate made promises in no uncertaiones and in very impolite language. He

istened for a moment, and having ver


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companion's busy fingers. "Tie him good,Johnny; he's the only ace we've drawn ihis game so far, an' we mustn't lose him."

Johnny tied an extra knot for luck andeaned forward, his eyes riveted on the

bump under the victim's coat. His dartinhand brought into sight that which pleasedhim greatly. "Oh, joy! Here, Hoppy; youake it."

Hopalong turned the weapon over in his

hand, spun the cylinder and gloated, theclicking sweet music to his ears. "Plumbull, too! I never reckoned I'd ever be soickled over a snub-nosed gun like this

but I feel like singing!""An' I feel like dying," grunted Johnny,

grabbing at his stomach. "If the blamedhack would only stand still!" he groaned,


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gazing at the floor with strong disgust. "Idon't reckon I've ever been so blamed sicn all my" the sentence was unfinished,

or the open porthole caught his eye and heeaped forward to use it for a collar.

Hopalong gazed at him in astonishmenand sudden pity took possession of him ashis pallid companion left the porthole andaced him.

"You ought to have something to eat,

KidI'm purty hungry myselfwhat theblazes!" he exclaimed, for Johnny'sprotesting wail was finished outside theport. Then a light broke upon him and he

wondered how soon it would be his tur o pay tribute to Neptune.

"Mr. Wilkins!" shouted a voice from thedeck, and Hopalong moved back a step.


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Mr. Wilkins!" After a short silence thevoice soliloquized: "Guess he changed hismind about it; I'll get 'em up for him," and

eet came into view. When halfway downhe ladder the second mate turned his head

and looked blankly down a gun barrelwhile a quiet but angry voice urged hiurther: "Keep a-coming, keep a-coming!"

The second mate complained, bucomplied.

"Stick 'em up highernow, Johnny,wobble around behind the nice man an'ake his gunyou shut yore yap! I'

bossing this trick, not you. Got it, Kid?

There's the ropethat's right. Nobody'dhink you sick to see you work. Well,hat's a good draw; but it's only a pair o

aces against a full, at that. Wonder who'll

be the next. Hope it's the foreman."


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Johnny, keeping up by sheer grit,pointed to the rear wall. "What abouhat?"

For reply his companion walked over o it, put his shoulder to it and pushed. Hetepped back and hurled his weigh

against it, but it was firm despite itsqueaking protest. Then he examined ioot by foot and found a large knot, whic

he drove in by a blow of the gun. Bending,

he squinted through the opening for a fullminute and then reported:"Purty black in there at this end, but up

at the other there's a light from a hole i

he roof, an' I could see boxes an' thingsike that. I reckon it's the main cellar."

"If we could get out at the other endwith that gun you've got we could raise


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blazes for a while," suggested Johnny.Anyhow, mebby they can come at us that

way when they find out what we've gone

an' done.""Yo're right," Hopalong replied,

ooking around. Seeing an iron bar heprocured it and, pushing it through the knohole in the partition, pulled. The board,plitting and cracking under the attack,inally broke from its fastenings with a

harp report, and Hopalong, pulling iaside, stepped out of sight of hiscompanion. Johnny was grinning at theuccess of his plan when he was

nterrupted."Ahoy, down there!" yelled a stentorian

voice from above. "Mr. Wilkins! What thedevil are you doing so long?" and after a


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on the deck and shouting for the crew tooin him. He filled the air wit

picturesque profanity and stamped and

yelled in passion at such rank mutiny."Hand grenades! Hand grenades!" he

cried. Then he remembered that his twomates were also below and would sharen the mutineers' fate, and his ragencreased at his galling helplessness.

When he had calmed sufficiently to thin

clearly he realized that it was certaideath for any one to attempt going dowhe ladder, and that his must be a waiting

game. He glanced at his crew, thirteen

good men, all armed with windlass barsand belaying pins, and gave them orders.Two were to watch the hatch and break he first head to appear, while the others

eturned to work. Hunger and thirst would


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do the rest. And what joy would be hiswhen they were forced to surrender!

Hopalong groped his way slowlowards the patch of light, barking hishins, stumbling and falling over the

barrels and crates and finally, losing hisooting at a critical moment, tumbled

down upon a box marked "Cotton." Therewas a splintering crash and the very fainclink of metal. Dazed and bruised, he sa

up and felt of himselfand found that hehad lost his gun in the fall."Now, where in blazes did it fly to?" he

muttered angrily, peering about anxiously.

His eyes suddenly opened their widesand he stared in surprise at a field guwhich covered him; and then he saw partsof two more.


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"Good Lord! Is this a gunboat?" hecried. "Are we up against bluejackets an'Uncle Sam?" He glanced quickly back the

way he had come when he heard Johnny'shot, but he could see nothing. He figuredhat Johnny had sense enough to call for

help if he needed it, and put thapossibility out of his mind. "Naw, thisain't no gunboatthe Government don'teal men; it enlists 'em. But it's a funn

pile of junk, all the same. Where in blazess that toy gun? Well , I'll be hanged!" and

he plunged toward the "Cotton" box hehad burst in his descent, and worked at i

rantically."Winchesters! Winchesters!" he cried,dragging out two of them. "Whoop! Nowor the cartridgesthere shore must be

ome to go with these guns!" He saw a ke


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marked "Nails," and managed to open iafter great laborand found it full oarmy Colts. Forcing down the desire to

urn a handspring, he slipped one of theix-shooters in his empty holster and

patted it lovingly. "Old friend, I'm shoreglad to see you, all right. You've beenused, but that don't make no difference."Searching further, he opened a full box omachetes , and soon after found cartridgesof many kinds and calibres. It took him bua few minutes to make his selection andcram his pockets with them. Then he filledwo Colts and two Winchestersand

executed a short jig to work off thedangerous pressure of his exuberance."But what an unholy lot of weapons," he

oliloquized on his way back to Johnny.

An' they're all second-hand. Cannons, too


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an' machetes !" he exclaimed, suddenlunderstanding. "Jumping Jerusalem!ailibustering expedition bound for Cuba,

or one of them wildcat republics dowouth! Oh, ho, my friends; I see where yo

have bit off more'n you can chew." In hishaste to impart the joyous news to hiscompanion, he barked his shinshamefully.

"'Way down south in the land o' cotton,

cinnamon seed an''whoa, blast you!"and Hopalong stuck his head through theopening in the partition and grinned.Heard you shoot, Kid; I reckoned yo

might need mean' these!" he finished,ooking fondly upon the weapons as hehoved them into the forecastle.

Johnny groaned and held his stomach,


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game. 'T is a shame in these days for honest men to be took in that unlawfulway. I've heard me father tell of the press

gangs on the other side, an' 't is smallbusiness."

Yensen looked up to reply, chanced toglance aft, and dropped his calking iron ihis astonishment. "Yumping Yimminy! Luk at dat fallar!"

Hogan looked. "The deuce! That's a

man after me own heat-rt! Kape yorepagan mouth shut! If ye take a hand agiem I'll swab up the deck wid yez. G'wawor-rking like a sane man, ye ijit!"

"Ay ent ban fight wit dat fallar! Luk athe gun!"

A man had climbed out of the after

hatch and was walking rapidly towards


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"What the blank are you doing?" heyelled.

"Well, I ain't kidnapping cow-puncherso steal my boat," replied Hopalong. "An'

you fellers stand still or I'll drop yocold!" he ordered to the assembled andestless crew. "Johnny!" he shouted, and

his companion popped up through thehatch like a jack-in-the-box. "Good boy,Johnny. Tie this coyote foreman like you

did the others," he ordered. While Johnnobeyed, Hopalong looked around thecircle, and his eyes rested on Hogan'sace, studying it, and found somethin

here which warmed his heart. "Friend, doyou know the back trail? Can you find thaunt of a town we left?"

"Aye, aye."


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"Shore, you; who'd you think I wasalking to? Can you find the way back, the

way we came?"

"Shure an' I can that, if I'm made to.""You'll swing for mutiny if you do, you

bilge-wallering pirate!" roared the trussed

captain. "Take that gun away from him,d'ye hear!" he yelled at the crew. "I'captain of this ship, an' I'll hang every lasone of you if you don't obey orders! This

s mutiny!""You won't do no hanging with that load

of weapons below!" retorted Hopalong.Uncle Sam is looking for filibusters his here gun is 'cotton,'" he said, grinning.

He turned to the crew. "But you fellers aredue to get shot if you sees her through," headded.


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"I'm captain of this ship" began thehelpless autocrat.

"You shore look like it, all right,"Hopalong replied, smiling. "If yo're thecaptain you order her turned around andheaded over the back trail, or I'll drop yooverboard off yore own ship!" Then fierceanger at the thought of the indignities andnjuries he and his companion haduffered swept over him and prompted a

one-minute speech which left no doubt aso what he would do if his demand wasnot complied with. Johnny, now free towatch the crew, added a word or two o

endorsement, and he acted a little as if heather hoped it would not be compliedwith: he itched for an excuse.

The captain did some quick thinking;


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he true situation could not be disguised,and with a final oath of rage he gave in.'Bout ship, Hogan; nor' by nor'west," he

growled, and the seaman started away toexecute the command, but was quickltopped by Hopalong.

"Hogan, is that right?" he demanded.No funny business, or we'll clean up the

whole bunch, an' blamed quick, too!""That's the course, sor. That's the way

back to town. I can navigate, an' me ordersare plain. Ye're Irish, by the way av ye,and 't is back to town ye go, sor!" Heurned to the crew: "Stand by, me boys."

And in a short time the course was nor' bnor'west.

The return journey was uneventful andat nightfall the ship lay at anchor off the


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ow Texas coast, and a boat loaded withmen grounded on the sandy beach. Four ohem arose and leaped out into the mild

urf and dragged the boat as high up on theand as it would go. Then the two cow-

punchers followed and one of them gave aow-spoken order to the Irishman at hiside.

"Yes, sor," replied Hogan, and hastenedo help the captain out onto the sand and to

cut the ropes which bound him. "Do yewant the mates, too, sor?" he asked,glancing at the trussed men in the boat.

"No; the foreman's enough," Hopalon

esponded, handing his weapons to Johnnand turning to face the captain, who wasooking into Johnny's gun as he rubbed his

arms to restore perfect circulation.


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"Now, you flat-faced coyote, yo'regoing to get the beating of yore life, an' I'going to give it to you!" Hopalong cried,

warily advancing upon the man whom heheld to be responsible for the miseries ohe past twenty-four hours. "You didn't

give me a square deal, but I'm man enougo give you one! When you drug an' steal

any more cow-punchers" action stoppedhis words.

It was a great fight. A filibustering seacaptain is no more peaceful than a wildboar and about as dangerous; and whilehis one was not at his best, neither was

Hopalong. The latter luckily had acquiredome knowledge of the rudiments of thegame and had the vigor of youth to opposeo the captain's experience and his

nfuriated but well-timed rushes. The


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eamen, for the honor of their calling andperhaps with a mind to the future, cheeredon the captain and danced up and down i

heir delight and excitement. They had aot of respect for the prowess of their

master, and for the man who could standup against him in a fair and square fisight. To give assistance to either in a fair ight was not to be thought of, and Johnny's

gun was sufficient after-excuse for non-nterference.

The sop! sop! of the punishing blows ashey got home and the steady circling o

Hopalong in avoiding the dangerous

attacks, went on minute after minute.Slowly the captain's strength was givinout, and he resorted to trickery as his laschance. Retreating, he half raised his arms

and lowered them as if weary, ready as a


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cat to strike with all his weight if the other gave an opening. It ought to have workedit had worked beforebut Hopalon

was there to win, and without themomentary hesitation of the suspiciousighter he followed the retreat and his hard

hand flashed in over the captain's guard araction of a second sooner than thaurprised gentleman anticipated. Theerocious frown gave way to placid peace

and the captain reclined at the feet of thebattered victor, who stood waiting for hio get up and fight. The captain lay withou

a sign of movement and as Hopalon

wondered, Hogan was the first to speak."Fer the love av hiven, let him be! Yeneedn't waithe's done; I know by theound av it!" he exclaimed, steppin

orward. "'T was a purty blow, an' 't was


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a gr-rand foight ye put up, sor! A gr-randoight, but any more av that is murder! 'Ts an Irishman's game, sor, an' ye did

yersilf proud. But now let him benoman, least av all a Dootchman, iver tumore than that an' lived!"

Hopalong looked at him and slowleplied between swollen lips, "Yo'reight, Hogan; we're square now, I reckon."

"That's right, sor," Hogan replied, and

urned to his companions. "Put him in theboat; an' mind ye handle him gintlywe'llbe sailing under him soon. Now, sor, if it'syer pleasure, I'll be after saying good-bye

o ye, sor; an' to ye, too," he said, shakinhands with both punches. "Fer a sick la-adye're a wonder, ye are that," he smiled atJohnny, "but ye want to kape away fro


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he water fronts. Good-bye to ye both, an'a pleasant journey home. The town is timiles to me right, over beyant them hills."

"Good-bye, Hogan," mumbledHopalong gratefully. "Yo're square all theway through; an' if you ever get out of aob or in any kind of trouble that I can help

you out of, come up to the Bar-20 an' yowon't have to ask twice. Good luck!" Andhe two sore and aching punchers, wiser i

he ways of the world, plodded doggedlowards the town, ten miles away.The next morning found them in the

addle, bound for Dent's hotel and store

near the San Miguel Canyon. When thearrived at their destination and Johnnound there was some hours to wait for

Red, his restlessness sent him roamin


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about the country, not so much "seekingwhat he might devour" as hopinomething might seek to devour him. He

was so sore over his recent kidnappinhat he longed to find a salve. He faithfull

promised Hopalong that he would retur at noon.


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CHAPTER III

DICK MARTIN STARTSSOMETHING

Dick Martin slowly turned, leaned hisback against the bar, and languidlyegarded a group of Mexicans at the other

end of the room. Singly, or incombinations of two or more, each wasmparting all he knew, or thought he knew

about the ghost of San Miguel Canyon.Their fellow-countryman, new to theocality, seemed properly impressed. Thatt was the ghost of Carlos Martinez,

murdered nearly one hundred years before


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as well knownexcept to those who hadeen the inside of Governmen

penitentiariesand they were quite

atisfied to be so eclipsed. But theService knew of the ghost, as it kneweverything pertaining to the border, andgave it no serious thought; if it toonterest in all the ghosts and superstitions

peculiar to the Mexican temperament iwould have no time for serious work.Martin once, in a spirit of savage denial,had wasted the better part of severaluccessive Friday nights in the Sa

Miguel, but to no avail. When told that the

ghost showed itself only to Mexicans hehad shrugged his shoulders eloquently andaughed, also eloquently.

"A Greaser," he replied, "is one-hal

ear and superstition, an' the other hal


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magination. There ain't no ghosts, but Iknow the Greasers have seen 'em, allight. A Greaser can see anything scary i

he makes up his mind to. If I ever see onean' he keeps on being one after I shoot, I'lleither believe in ghosts, or quit drinking."His eyes twinkled as he added: "An' of thewo, I think I'd prefer to see ghosts!"

He was flushed and restless witdeviltry. His fifth glass always made hi

o; and to-night there was an addedtimulus. He believed the strange Mexicao be Juan Alvarez, who was so clever hat the Government had never been able

o convict him. Alvarez was fearless toecklessness and Martin, eager to test him,addressed the group with the blunerseness for which he was famed, and

hated.


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"Greasers are cowards," he assertedquietly, and with a smile which invitedexcitement. He took a keen delight i

analyzing the expressions on the faces ohose hit. It was one of his favorite

pastimes when feeling coltish.The group was shocked into silence,

quickly followed by great unrest and hot,muttered words. Martin did not move amuscle, the smile was set, but between the

half-closed eyelids crouched Combat, ots toes. The Mexicans knew it was therewithout looking for itthe tone of hisvoice, the caressing purr of his words, and

his unnatural languor were signs wellknown to them. Not a criminal sneakinback from voluntary banishment in Mexicowho had seen those signs ever forgo

hem, if he lived. Martin watched the


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group cat-like, keenly scrutinizing eacace, reading the changing emotions i

every shifting expression; he had this ar

down so well that he could tell when aman was debating the pull of a gun, andbeat him on the draw by a fraction of aecond.

"De senor ees meestak," came the reply,as quiet and caressing as the words whicprovoked it. The strange Mexican was

tanding proudly and looking into thequinting eyes with only a grayness of faceand a tigerish litheness to tell what he felt.

"None go through the canyon after dar

on Fridays," purred Martin." I go tro' de canyon nex' Friday night.

Eef I do, then you mak apology to me?"

"I'll limit my remark to all but one


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Greaser."The Mexican stepped forward. "I tak'

hees gloove an' leave eet at de Beeg Ben',or you to fin' in daylight," he said, tappin

one of Martin's gauntlets which lay on thebar. "You geev' me eet befo' I go?"

"Yes; at nine o'clock to-morrow night,"Martin replied, hiding his elation. He wasure that he knew the man now.

The Mexican, cool and smiling, bowed

and left the room, his companionshastening after him.

"Well, I'll bet twenty-five dollars helunks!" breathed the bartender,traightening up.

Martin turned languidly and smiled ahim. "I'll take that, Charley," he replied.

Johnny Nelson was always late, and o


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good intentions, his course took hihrough a small Mexican hamlet in whicived a senorita of remarkable beauty and

ebellious eyes; and Johnny tarried in theown most of the day, riding up and downhe streets, practising the nice things he

would say if he met her. She watched hirom the heavily draped window, andighed as she wondered if her dashin

Americano would storm the house andcarry her off like the knights of old.Finally he had to turn away with heavand reluctant heart, promising himself thahe would return when no petulant and

arcastic companions were waiting for him. Thenah! what dreams youth knows.Half an hour ahead of him on another

rail rode Juan, smiling with satisfaction.

He had come to San Felippe to get a loo


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at the canyon on Friday nights, and Martihad given him an excuse entirelunexpected. For this he was truly grateful,

even while he knew that the American hadried to pick a quarrel with him and thusid the border of a man entirely too clever or the good of customs receipts; andailing in that, had hoped the treacherous

canyon trail would gain that end in another manner. Old Jim Lane's fingers touchedwires not one whit more sensitive thahose which had sent Juan Alvarez to look

over the San Migueland Lane's wireshad been slow this time. When Juan had

eft the saloon the night before and hadeen Manuel slip away from the group andide off into the north, he had known thahe ghost would show itself the followin

night.


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But Juan was to be disappointed. Hewas still some distance from the canyowhen a snarling bulk landed on the

haunches of his horse. He jerked loose hisgun and fired twice and then knew nothing.When he opened his eyes he lay quietly,rying to figure it out with a headhrobbing with pain from his fall. The

cougar must have been desperate for foodo attack a man. He moved his foot andtruck something soft and heavy. His shots

had been lucky, but they had not saved hihis horse and a sprained arm and leg.There would be no gauntlet found at the

Big Bend at daylight.When Johnny Nelson reached the twiboulders marking the beginning of theloping run where the trail pitched down,

he grinned happily at sight of the moo


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ising over the low hills and then grabbedat his holster, while every hair in his headtood up curiously. A wild, haunting,

eminine scream arose to a quaverinoprano and sobbed away into silence. No

words can adequately describe theunearthly wail in that cry and it took a fullhalf-minute for Johnny to become himselagain and to understand what it was. Oncemore it arose, nearer, and Johnny peerednto the shadows along a rough backbone

of rock, his Colt balanced in his half-aised hand.

"You come 'round me an' you'll get

hurt," he muttered, straining his eyes topeer into the blackness of the shadows.Come on out, Soft-foot; the moon's yoreinish. You an' me will have it out right

here an' nowI don't want no cougar


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railing me through that ink-black canyoon a two-foot ledge" he thought he sawa shadow glide across a dim patch o

moonlight, but when his smoke rifted heknew he had missed. "Damn it! You've gota mate 'round here somewhere," hecomplained. "Well, I'll have to chance it,anyhow. Come on, bronc! Yo're shakingike a leafget out of this!"

When he began to descend into the

canyon he allowed his horse to pick itsown way without any guidance from him,and gave all of his attention to the trailbehind him. The horse could get alon

better by itself in the dark, and it wasmore than possible that one or two lithecougars might be slinking behind him ovelvet paws. The horse scraped alon

gingerly, feeling its way step by step, and


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ending stones rattling and clattering dowhe precipice at his left to tinkle into thetream at the bottom.

"Gee, but I wish I'd not wasted so mucime," muttered the rider uneasily. "This

here canyon-cougar combination is theworst I ever butted up against. I'll never be late again, not never; not for all thegirls in the world. Easy, bronc," hecautioned, as he felt the animal slip and

quiver. "Won't this trail ever start goingup again?" he growled petulantly, takinghis eyes off the black back trail, where noamount of scrutiny showed him anything,

and turned in the saddle to peer ahead and a yell of surprise and fear burst frohim, while chills ran up and down hispine. An unearthly, piercing shriek

uddenly rang out and filled the canyo


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with ear-splitting uproar and a glowing,heeted half-figure of a man floated and

danced twenty feet from him and over the

chasm. He jerked his gun and fired, buonly once, for his mount had its own ideasabout some things and this particular oneeasily headed the list. The startled rider grabbed reins and pommel, his bloodcongealed with fear of the precipice lesshan a foot from his side, and he gave all

his attention to the horse. But scared as hewas he heard, or thought that he heard, apeculiar sound when he fired, and hewould have sworn that he hit the mark

he striking of the bullet was not drownedn the uproar and he would never forgehe sound of that impact. He rounded Bi

Bend as if he were coming up to the

udge's stand, and when he struck the


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CHAPTER IV

JOHNNY ARRIVES

Meanwhile Hopalong and Redquarrelled petulantly and damned theerring Johnny with enthusiastic abandon,while Dent smiled at them and joked; buhis efforts at levity made little impressioon the irate pair. Red, true to his word,had turned up at the time set, in fact, hewas half an hour ahead of time, for whicmiracle he endeavored to take great anddisproportionate credit. Dent was secretlglad about the delay, for he found hisplace lonesome. He thoroughly enjoyed


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he company of the two gentlemen from theBar-20, whose actions seemed to begoverned by whims and who appeared to

ack all regard for consequences; and thequabbled so refreshingly, and spent their

money cheerfully. Now, if they wouldonly wind up the day by fighting! Such ainish would be joy indeed. And speaking

of fights, Dent was certain that Mr.Cassidy had been in one recently, for hisace bore marks that could only be

acquired in that way.After supper the two guests had

elapsed into a silence which endured

only as long as the pleasing fulness. Thehe squabbling began again, growinworse until they fell silent from lack oadequate expression. Finally Red once

again spoke of their absent friend.


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"We oughtn't get peevish, Hoppyhe'sonly thirty-six hours late," suggested Red.An' he might be a week," he added

houghtfully, as his mind ran back over aong list of Johnny's misdeeds.

"Yes, he might. An' won't he have a finecock-an'-bull tale to explain it," growledHopalong, reminiscently. "His excuses arehe worst part of it generally."

"Eh, does hemake excuses?" asked

Dent, mildly surprised."He does to us ," retorted Red savagely.

He's worse than a woman; take him all iall an' you've got the toughest propositiohat ever wore pants. But he's a goodeller, at that."

"Well, you've got a lot of nerve, you

have!" retorted Hopalong. "You don't


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want to say anything about the Kidihere's anybody that can beat him in beinate an' acting the fool generally, it's you.

An' what's more, you know it!"Red wheeled to reply, but was

nterrupted by a sudden uproar outside,luent swearing coming towards the house.

The door opened with a bang, admitting awhite-faced, big-eyed man with one leammed through the box he had landed o

n dismounting."Gimme a drink, quick!" he shoutedwildly, dragging the box over to the bar with a cheerful disregard for chairs and

other temporary obstructions. "Gimme adrink!" he reiterated.

"Give you six hops in the neck!" yelledRed, missing and almost sitting dow


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because of the enthusiasm he had put intohis effort. Johnny side-stepped andducked, and as he straightened up to as

or whys and wherefores, Red's eyesopened wide and he paused in his further ntentions to stare at the apparition.

"Sick?" queried Hopalong, who wasrightened.

"Gimme that drink!" demanded Johnneverishly, and when he had it he leaned

against the bar and mopped his face with arembling hand."What's the matter with you, anyhow?"

asked Red, with deep anxiety."Yes; for God's sake, what's happened

o you?" demanded Hopalong.Johnny breathed deeply and threw bac

his shoulders as if to shake off a weight.


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Fellers, I had a cougar soft-footing after me in that dark canyon, my cayuse raaway on a two-foot ledge up the wall,

an'Isawaghost !"There was a respectful silence. Johnny,

waiting a reasonable length of time for eplies and exclamations, flushed a bit andepeated his frank and candid statement,

adding a few adjectives to it. " A real,creeching, flying ghost ! An' I'm going

home , an' I'm going to stay there. I ain'never coming back no more, not for anything. Damn this border country,anyhow !"

The silence continued, whereupoJohnny grew properly indignant. "You actike I told you it was going to rain! Wh

don't you say something? Didn't you hear


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what I said, you fools!" he askedpugnaciously. "Are you in the habit ohaving a thing like that told you? Wh

don't you show some interest, you dod-blasted, thick-skulled wooden-heads?"

Red looked at Hopalong, Hopalonooked at Red, and then they both looked

at Dent, whose eyes were fixed in a stareon Johnny.

"Huh!" snorted Hopalong, waril

arising. "Was that all?" he asked, noddingat Red, who also arose and began to movecautiously toward their erring friend.Didn't you see no more'n one ghost?

Anybody that can see one ghost, an' nomore, is wrong somewhere. Now, stop,an' think; didn't you see two?" He wasadvancing carefully while he talked, and


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Red was now behind the man who sawone ghost.

"Why, you" there was a sudden flurryand Johnny's words were cut short in themelee.

"Good, Red! Ouch!" shouted Hopalong.

Look out! Got any rope, Dent? Well,hurry up: there ain't no telling what he'lldo if he's loose. The mescal they sellsdown in this country ain't liquorit's

poison," he panted. "An' he can't evetand whiskey!"Finding the rope was easier than findin

a place to put it, and the unequal battleaged across the room and into the next,

where it sounded as if the house werealling down. Johnny's voice was shrill

and full of vexation and his words were


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extremely impolite and lacked censoring.His feet appeared to be numerous andgrowing rapidly, judging from the amount

of territory they covered and defended,and Red joyfully kicked Hopalong in themelee, which in this instance also standsor stomach; Red always took great painso do more than his share in a scrimmage.

Dent hovered on the flanks, his hands fullof rope, and begged with great earnestnesso be allowed to apply it to parts o

Johnny's thrashing anatomy. But as thelanks continued to change wit

bewildering swiftness he begged in vain,

and began to make suggestions and giveadvice pleasing to the three combatants.Dent knew just how it should be done, andwas generous with the knowledge until

Johnny zealously planted five knuckles o


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carefully traced a neck to its own proper head and then his steel fingers opened andwooped down and shut off the dialect.

Hopalong pushed Dent off him andmanaged to catch Johnny's flaying arm ohe third attempt, while Dent madeentative sorties against Johnny's spurred

boots."Phew! Can he fight like that when he's

ober?" reverently asked Dent, seein

how close his fingers could come to hisgaudy eye without touching it. "I won't beable to see at all in an hour," he added,gloomily.

Hopalong, seated on Johnny's chest,oberly made reply as he tenderly flirted

with a raw shin. "It's the mescal. I'm goino slip some of that stuff into Pete's cayuse


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ome of these days," he promised, happwith a new idea. Pete Wilson had noense of humor.

"That ghost was plumb lucky," gruntedRed, "an' so was the sea-captain," heinished as an afterthought, limping of oward the bar, slowly and painfullyollowed by his disfigured companions.One drink; then to bed."

After Red had departed, Hopalong and

Dent smoked a while and then, knockinhe ashes out of his pipe, Hopalong arose.An' yet, Dent, there are people tha

believe in ghosts," he remarked, with a

vast and settled contempt.Dent gave critical scrutiny to the

cratched bar for a moment. "Well, theGreasers all say there is a ghost in the Sa


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Miguel, though I never saw it. But some ohem have seen it, an' no Greasers ridehat trail no more."

"Huh!" snorted Hopalong. "SomeGreasers must have filled the Kid up oghosts while he was filling hisself up omescal. Ghosts? R-a-t-s!"

"It shows itself only to Greasers, an'hen only on Friday nights," explained

Dent, thoughtfully. This was Friday night.

Others had seen that ghost, but they wereall Mexicans; now that a "white" man oJohnny's undisputed calibre had been sohonored Dent's skepticism wavered and

he had something to think about for days tocome. True, Johnny was not a Greaser; buteven ghosts might make mistakes once in awhile.


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Hopalong laughed, dismissing theubject from his mind as being beneaturther comment. "Well, we won't argue

'm too tired. An' I'm sorry you got thateye, Dent."

"Oh, that's all right," hastily assured thetore-keeper, smiling faintly. "I was justpoiling for a fight, an' now I've had it.

Feels sort of good. Yes, first thing in themorningbreakfast'll be ready soon as

you are. Good-night."But the proprietor couldn't sleep.Finally he arose and tiptoed into the roowhere Johnny lay wrapped in the sleep o

he exhausted. After cautious and criticalnspection, which was made hard because

of his damaged eye, he tiptoed back to hisbunk, shaking his head slowly. "He wasn't


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drunk," he muttered. "He saw that ghost allight; an' I'll bet everything I've got on it!"

At daybreak three quarrelling punchersode homeward and after a monotonousourney arrived at the bunk house andeported. It took them two nights

adequately to describe their experienceso an envious audience. The morning after he telling of the ghost story things begao happen. Red starting it by erecting a

ign. NOTISENO GHOSTS ALOWEDAn exuberant handful of the outfi

watched him drive the last nail and stepback to admire his work, and the runninire of comment covered all degrees o

humor, and promised much hilarity in theuture at the expense of the only man o


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with real money.This was the condition of affairs whe

Hopalong Cassidy strolled into Cowan'sand forgot his thirst in the story being toldby a strange Mexican. It was Johnny'sghost, without a doubt, and when he hadcarelessly asked a few questions he wasconvinced that Johnny had really seeomething. On the way home he cogitated

upon it and two points challenged his

ntelligence with renewed insistence: theghost showed itself only on Friday, andhen only to "Greasers." His suspicious

mind would not rest until he had reviewed

he question from all sides, and hisopinion was that there was somethinmore than spiritual about the ghost of theSan Migueland a cold, practical reaso

or it.


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When he rode into the corral at theanch he saw that another sign had bee

put on the corral wall. He had destroyed

he first, speaking his mind in full at theime. He swept his gloved hand upward

with a rush, tore the flimsy board from itsastenings, broke it to pieces across hisaddle, and tossed the fragments from him.

He was angry, for he had warned the outfithat they were carrying the joke too far,hat Johnny was giving way to hystericalage more frequently, and might easily doomething that they all would regret. And

he felt sorry for the Kid; he knew wha

Johnny's feelings were and he made up hismind to start a few fights himself if thepersecution did not cease. When hetepped into the bunk house and faced his

riends they listened to a three-minute


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eyes. "Kid, I'm in dead earnest. This ain'no fool jokenow you tell me what thaghost looked like, how he acted, an' all

about it. I mean what I say, because now Iknow that you saw something . If it wasn'a ghost it was made to look like one,anyhow. Now go ahead."

"I've told you a dozen times already,"etorted Johnny, his face flushing. "I've

begged you to believe me an' told you tha

wasn't fooling. How do I know you ain'now? I'm not going to tell""Hold on; yes, you are. Yo're going to

ell it slow, an' just like you saw it,"

Hopalong interrupted hastily. "I know I'vedoubted it, but who wouldn't! Wait aminuteI've done a heap of thinking in thepast few days an' I know that you saw a


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ghost. Now, everybody knows that thereain't no such thing as ghosts; then whawas it you saw? There's a game on, Kid,

an' it's a dandy; an' you an' me are going tobust it up an' get the laugh on the wholeblasted crowd, from Buck to Cowan."

Johnny's suspicions left him with a rush,or his old Hoppy was one man in ahousand, and when he spoke like that,

with such sharp decision, Johnny knew

what it meant. Hopalong listened intentland when the short account was finishedhe put out his hand and smiled.

"We're the fools, Kid; not you. There's

omething crooked going on in thacanyon, an' I know it! But keep mum abouwhat we think."

Johnny lost his grouch so suddenly and


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beamed upon his friends with such auperior air that they began to worry abou

what was in the wind. The suspense wore

on them, for with Hopalong's assistance,Johnny might spring some game on theall that would more than pay up for the fuhey had enjoyed at his expense; and theonger the suspense lasted the worse i

became. They never lost sight of hiwhile he was around and Hopalong had toendure the same surveillance; and it wasno uncommon thing to see small groups ohe anxious men engaged in deep

discussion. When they found that Buc

must have been told and noticed his smilewas as fixed as Hopalong's or Johnny's,hey were certain that trouble of some

nature was in store for them.

Several weeks later Buck Peters drew


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ein and waited for a stranger to join him."Howdy. Is yore name Peters?" asked

he newcomer, sizing him up in onerained glance.

"Well, who are you, an' what do youwant?"

"I want to see Peters, Buck Peters. Thayore name?""Yes; what of it?""My name's Fox. Old Jim Lane gave me

a message for you," and the stranger spokeearnestly to some length. "There; that's theituation. We've got to have shrewd men

hat they don't know an' won't suspect.Lane wants to pay a couple of yore meheir wages for a month or two. He said he

was shore he could count on you to help

him out."


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"He's right; he can. I don't forget favors.'ve got a couple of men thatthere's one

of 'em now. Hey, Hoppy! Whoop-e,

Hoppy!"Mr. Cassidy arrived quickly, listened

eagerly, named Red and Johnny toaccompany him, overruled his companionsby insisting that if Johnny didn't go thewhole thing was off, carried his point, andgalloped off to find the lucky two, his eyes

gleaming with anticipation and joy. Foxaughed, thanked the foreman, and rode ohis way north; and that night three cow-punchers rode south, all strangely elated.

And the friends who watched them goheaved signs of relief, for the reprisalsevidently were to be postponed for awhile.


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CHAPTER V

THE GHOST OF THE SANMIGUEL

Juan Alvarez had not been in SanFelippe since Dick Martin left, whicmeant for over a month. Martin was dowhe river looking for a man who did no

wish to be found; and some said thaMartin cared nothing about international

boundaries when he wanted any one realbad. And there was that geologist whowore blue glasses and was alwaysputtering around in the canyon and

hammering chips of rock off the steep


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walls; he must have slipped one noon,because his body was found on a flaboulder at the edge of the stream. Manuel

had found it and wanted to be paid for hisrouble in bringing it to townbut Manuel

was a fool. Who, indeed, would pay goodmoney for a dead Gringo, especially after he was dead? And there were three cow-punchers holding a herd of 6-X cattle upnorth, an hour or so from the town. Thewanted to buy steers from Senor Rodriguez, but said that he was a robber and threatened to cut his ears off. Cannot aman name his own price? These cow-

punchers liked to get drunk and gallophrough San Felippe, shooting like crazmen. They got drunk one Friday night andwent shouting and singing to the Big Bend

n the canyon to see the flying ghost, and


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hey called it names and fired off their pistols and sang loudly; and for a weehey insulted all the Mexicans in town b

calling them liars and cowards. Was it theault of any one that the ghost would showtself only to Mexicans? Oh, these Gringos

might the good God punish them for heir sins!

Thus the peons complained to the padrewhile they kept one eye open for the

advent of the rowdy cow-punchers, whoalways wanted to drink, and then to fighwith some one, either with fists or pistols.Why should any one fight with them,

especially with such things as fists?"Let them fight among themselves. Wha

have you to do with heretics?" reprovedhe good padre, who ostracized himsel


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plainly and set hard obligations for penance.

The cow-punchers swore that it hadbeen done by some Mexican and said thahey would come to town some day soo

and kill three Mexicans unless the guiltone was found and brought to them. Thehe padre mounted his donkey and wen

out to them to argue and they finally toldhim they would wait for two weeks. Bu

he padre was too smart for themhe sena messenger to find Senor Dick Martin,and in one week Senor Martin came toown. There was no fight. The Gringo

owdies were cowards at heart andMartin could not shoot them down in coldblood, and he could not arrest them,because he was not a policeman or even a

heriff, but only a revenue officer, which


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was a most foolish law. But he watchedhem all the time and wanted them to figh

there was no more shooting or

drunkenness in town. Nobody wanted toight Senor Martin, for he was a grea

man. He even went so far as to talk withem about it and wave his arms, but the

were as frightened at him as little childremight be.

So the Mexicans gossiped and exulted,

ome of the bolder of them evewaggering out to the Gringo camp; buMartin drove them back again, saying hewould not allow them to bully men who

could not retaliate, which was right andair. Then, afraid to go away and leave themad cow-punchers so close to town, heordered them to drive their herd farther

east, nearer to Dent's store, and never to


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eturn to San Felippe unless they neededhe padre; and they obeyed him after aong talk. After seeing them settled in their

new camp, which was on Mondamorning, Martin returned to San Felippeand told the padre where he could beound and then rode away again. Sa

Felippe celebrated for a whole day andwo Mexican babies were christened after

Senor Dick Martin, which was honor allaround.

Friday, when Manuel went over to spyupon the cow-punchers in their new camp,he found them so drunk that they could no

tand, and before he crept away at duswo of them were sleeping like gorgednakes and the third was firing off hisevolver at random, which diversion had

not a little to do with Manuel's departure.


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When Manuel crept away he headedtraight for a crevice near the wall of the

canyon at the Big Bend and, reaching it,

ooked all around and then dropped into it.ot long thereafter another Mexica

appeared, this one from San Felippe, andalso disappeared into the crevice. Asdarkness fell Manuel reappeared witomething under his jacket and a momenater a light gleamed at the base of alender sapling which grew on the edge ohe canyon wall and leaned out over the

abyss. It was cleverly placed, for only aone spot on the Mexican side of the distan

Rio Grande could it be seenthe higcanyon walls farther down screened irom any one who might be riding on the

north bank of the river. In a moment there

came an answering twinkle and Manuel,


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down the east end of the trail, not far froDent's, toward the Big Bend, which thegained without a mishap. Johnny was sen

up to a place they had noticed and markedn their memories at the time they hadioted down to defy the ghost. He was totop any one trying to escape up the Sa

Felippe end of the canyon trail, and hisconfidence in his ability to do this wasexuberant. Hopalong and Red slowly andaboriously worked their way down the

perilous path leading to the bottom, fordedhe stream, and crept up the other side,

where they found cover not far from a

wide crack in the canyon wall. Upon theoccasion of their hilarious visit to the BiBend they had observed that a faint trailed to the crack and had cogitated deepl

upon this fact.


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Three hours passed before the watchersn and above the canyon were rewarded

by anything further; and then a ligh

lickered far down the canyon and close tohe edge of the stream. Immediateltrange noises were heard and suddenlhe ghost swung out of the opening in theock wall near Hopalong and Red and

danced above their heads, while thehrieking which had so frightened Johnn

and his horse filled the canyon wituproar and sent Martin wriggling nearer tohe crevice which he had watched so

closely. The noise soon ceased, but the

ghost danced on, and the sound of metumbling along the rocky ledge borderinhe stream became more and more

audible. Four were in the party and the

all carried bulky loads on their backs and


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grunted with pleasure and relief as theentered the entrance in the wall. When theast man had disappeared and the noise o

heir passing had died out, Johnny's ropeailed up and out, and the ghost swayed

violently and then began to sag in aunaccountable manner towards the trail ashe owner of the rope hitched its free end

around a spur of rock and made it fast.Then he feverishly scrambled down theteep path to join his friends.

Hopalong and Red, wriggling on their tomachs towards the crack in the wall,

paused in amazement and stared across the

canyon; and then the former chuckled andwhispered something in his companion'sear. "That was why he lugged his ropealong! He's just idiot enough to want a

ouveneer an' plaything at the risk o


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osing the game. Come on!they'll tumbleo what's up an' get away if we don'

hustle."

When the two punchers cautiously andnoiselessly entered the crack and felt their way along its rock walls they heard fluenwearing in Spanish by the man who

worked the ghost, and who could nounderstand its sudden ambition to takeoot. It was made painfully clear to him a

moment later when a pair of brawny handseached out of the darkness behind hiand encircled his throat a hand's widtbelow his gleaming cigarette. Another

pair used cords with deftness anddespatch and he was left by himself tobrowse upon the gag when all his senseseturned.


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Hopalong, with Red inconsiderateltepping on his heels, felt his way alonhe wall of the crevice, alert and silent,

his Colt nestling comfortably in his righhand, while the left was pushed out aheadeeling for trouble. As they worked farther

away from the canyon distant voices couldbe heard and they forthwith proceededeven more cautiously. When Hopalongcame to the second bend in the narrowpassage he peered around it and stoppedo abruptly that Red's nose almost spreadtself over the back of his head. Red'sndignation was all the harder to bear

because it must bloom unheard.In a huge, irregular room, whose roocould not be discerned in the dim light ohe few candles, five men were resting i

various attitudes of ease as they discussed


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candle light glinted in rings on the muzzlesof their six-shooters. Had Manuelbetrayed them? But they had little time or

nclination for cogitation regardinManuel.

"Easy there!" shouted Red, and Pedro'shand stopped when half way to his chest.Pedro was a gambler by nature, but theodds were too heavy and he sullenlobeyed the command.

"Stick 'em up! Stick 'em up! Higher yet,an' hold 'em there," purred a soft voicerom the other end of the room, where

Dick Martin smiled pleasantly upon the

and wondered if there was anything oearth harder to pound good common sensento than a "Greaser's" head. His gun was

blue, but it was, nevertheless, the mos


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prominent part of his make-up, even if theight was poor.

One of the Mexicans reachednvoluntarily for his gun, for he was a gun-

man by training; while his companions felor their knives, deadly weapons in a

melee. Martin, crying, "Watch 'em,Cassidy!" side-stepped and lungedorward with the speed and skill of a

boxer, and his hard left hand landed on the

point of Juan Alvarez' jaw with a forceand precision not to be withstood. But tomake more certain that the Mexican wouldnot take part in any possible

demonstration of resistance, Martin's righcircled up in a short half-hook andtopped against Juan's short ribs. Marti

weighed one hundred and eighty pounds

and packed no fat on his well-knit frame.


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At this moment a two-legged cycloneburst upon the scene in the person oJohnny Nelson, whose rage had bee

worked up almost to the weeping poinbecause he had lost so much time huntinor the crevice where it was not. Seein

Juan fall, and the glint of knives, he startedn to clean things up, yelling, "I'm a ghost!'m a ghost! Take 'em alive! Take 'em

alive!"

Hopalong and Red felt that they were ihis way, and taking care of one Mexicanbetween them, while Martin knocked ouanother, they watched the exits,for

anything was possible in such a chaoticmix-up,and gave Johnny plenty of room.The latter paused, triumphant, lookedaround to see if he had missed any, and

hen advanced upon his friends and


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hoved his jaw up close to Hopalong'sace. "Tried to lose me, didn't you!

Wouldn't wait for me! For seven cents an'

a toothbrush I'd give you what's left!"Red grabbed him by trousers and collar

and heaved him into the passageway. "Goout an' play with yore souveneer or we'lltep on you!"

Johnny sat up, rubbed certain portionsof his anatomy, and grinned. "Oh, I've got

t, all right! I'm shore going to take thaghost home an' make some of them foolseat it!"

Martin smiled as he finished tying theast prisoner. "That's right, Nelson; you've

got it on 'em this time. Make 'em chew it."


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CHAPTER VI

HOPALONG LOSES AHORSE

For a month after their return from theSan Miguel, Hopalong and hiscompanions worked with renewed zest,and told and retold the other members ohe outfit of their unusual experiences near he Mexican border. Word had come up to

hem that Martin had secured theconviction of the smugglers and was iine for immediate advancement. No one

on the range had the heart to meet Johnn

elson, for Johnny carried with him a


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piece of the ghost, and became pugnaciousf his once-jeering friends and

acquaintances refused to nibble on it.

Cowan still sold his remarkable drink, buhe had yielded to Johnny's persuasivemethods and now called it "Nelson's Pet."

One bright day the outfit startedounding up a small herd of three-year-

olds, which Buck had sold, and by the endof the week the herd was complete and

eady for the drive. This took two weeksand when Hopalong led his drive outfihrough Hoyt's Corners on its homewardourney he felt the pull of the town o

Grant, some miles distant, and it was tootrong to be resisted. Flinging a word oexplanation to the nearest puncher, heurned to lope away, when Red's voice

checked him. Red wanted to delay his


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home-coming for a day or two and attendo a purely personal matter at a ranch lyino the west. Hopalong, knowing the reaso

or Red's wish, grinned and told him to go,and not to propose until he had thought thematter over very carefully. Red's replywas characteristic, and after arranging aendezvous and naming the time, the twoeparated and rode toward their

destinations, while the rest of the outfikept on towards their ranch.

"A man owes something to all hiriends," Hopalong mused. In this case he

owed a return game of draw poker to

certain of Grant's leading citizens, and heiked to pay his obligations wheopportunity offered.

It was mid-afternoon when he topped a


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ise and saw below him the handful ohacks making up the town. A look o

pleased interest flickered across his face

as he noticed a patched and dirty tenpitched close up to the nearest shack.Show!" he exclaimed. "Now, ain't thatuck! I'll shore take it in. If it's a circus,

mebby it has a trick mule to rideI'llnever forget that one up in Kansas City,"he grinned. But almost instantly a doubarose and tempered the grin. "Huh! Mebbt's the branding chute of some gospelharp." As he drew near he focussed his

eyes on the canvas and found that his fears

were justified."All Are Welcome," he spelled outlowly. "Shore they are!" he muttered. "I

never nowhere saw such hard-working,

all-embracing rustlers as them fellers.


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They'll stick their iron on anything from awobbly calf or dying dogie to ataggering-with-age mosshead, an' shou

tally one' with the same joy. Well, not for mine, this trip. I'm going to graze loose an'buck-jump all I wants. Anyhow, if I did lehim brand me I'd only backslide in aweek," and Hopalong pressed his pony toa more rapid gait as two men emergedrom the tent. "There's the sky-pilot now,"

he muttered"an' there's Dave!" hehouted, waving his arm. "Oh, Dave!

Dave!"Dave Wilkes looked up, and his grin o

delight threatened to engulf his ears.Hullo, Cassidy! Glad to see you! Keepight on for the storeI'll be with you in a

minute." When David told his companio

he visitor's name the evangelist held up


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his hand eloquently and spoke."I know all about him!" he exclaimed

orrowfully. "If I can lead him out of hiswickedness I will rest content though Iave no more souls this fortnight. Is it allrue?"

"Huh! What true?""All that I have heard about him.""Well, I dunno what you've heard,"

eplied Dave, with grave caution, "but Ieckon it might be if it didn't cover lying,tealing, cowardice, an' such coyote traits.

He's shore a holy terror with a short gun,all right, but lemme tell you somethinmebby you ain't heard: There ain't aquare man in this part of the country tha

won't feel some honored an' proud to be

called a friend of Hopalong Cassidy.


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Them's the sentiments rampaginhereabouts. I ain't denying that he's gonean' killed off a lot of men first an' last

but the only trouble there is that he didn'get 'em soon enough. They all had livedoo blamed long when they went an'tacked up agin him an' that lightning shor

gun of hissn. But, say, if yo're calculatingo tackle him at yore game, lead him gentle

don't push none. He comes to life realudden when he's shoved. So long; see

you later, mebby."The revivalist looked after him and

mused, "I hope I was informed wrong, bu

his much I have to be thankful for: Thewickedness of most of these men, theseover-grown children, is manly, stalwart,and open; few of them are vicious or

contemptible. Their one great curse is


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drink."When Hopalong entered the store he

was vociferously welcomed by two men,and the proprietor joining them, the circlewas complete. When the conversatiohreatened to repeat itself cards were

brought and the next two hours passedvery rapidly. They were expensive hourso the Bar-20 puncher, who finally arose

with an apologetic grin and slapped his

high significantly."Well, you've got it all; I'm busted wideopen, except for a measly dollar, an' Ihore hopes you don't want that," he

aughed. "You play a whole lot better thanyou did the last time I was here. I've got tomove along. I'm going east an' seeWallace an' from there I've got to meet


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Red an' ride home with him. But you comean' see us when you canit's me thawants revenge this time."

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

"Say, Hoppy," advised Tom Lawrence,

better drop in an' hear the sky-pilot'spalaver before you go. It'll do you a wholeot of good, an' it can't do you no harm,

anyhow."

"You going?" asked Hopalonguspiciously.

"Can'tgot too much work to do,"quickly responded Tom, his brother Artnodding happy confirmation.

"Huh; I reckoned so!" snorted Hopalonarcastically, as he shook hands all

around. "You all know where to find us


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drop in an' see us when you get down our way," he invited.

"Sorry you can't stay longer, Cassidy,"emarked Dave, as his friend mounted.But come up again soonan' be shore toell all the boys we was asking for 'em,"

he called.Considering the speed with whic

Hopalong started for Wallace's, he mighthave been expecting a relay of "quarter"

horses to keep it going, but he pulled uphort at the tent. Such inconsistency isrying to the temper of the best-mannered

horse, and this particular animal was no

n the least good-mannered, wherefore itsider was obliged to soothe its resentmenn his own peculiar way, listening

meanwhile to the loud and impassioned


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voice of the evangelist haranguing hismall audience.

"I wonder," said Hopalong, glancinghrough the door, "if them friends of mineeckon I'm any ascared to go in that tent?

Huh, I'll just show 'em anyhow!"whereupon he dismounted, flung the reinsover his horse's head, and strode throughe doorway.

The nearest seat, a bench made b

placing a bottom board of the evangelist'swagon across two up-ended boxes, wasclose enough to the exhorter and hedropped into it and glanced carelessly a

his nearest neighbor. The carelessnesswent out of his bearing as his eyesastened themselves in a stare on the man's

neck-kerchief. Hopalong was hardened to


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awful sights and at his best was not aartistic soul, but the villainous riot of fier crimson, gaudy yellow, and pugnacious

and domineering green which flaunteddefiance and insolence from the stranger'sneck caused his breath to hang over onecount and then come double strong at thenext exhalation. "Gee whiz!" hewhispered.

The stranger slowly turned his head and

ooked coldly upon the impudent disturber of his reverent reflections. "Meaning?" hequestioned, with an upward slant in hisvoice. The neck-kerchief seemed to grow

uddenly malignant and about to spring.Meaning?" repeated the other with greansolence, while his eyes looked a

challenge.


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While Hopalong's eyes left thecrambled color-insult and tried to banishe horrible after-image, his mind groped

or the rules of etiquette governing freeist fights in gospel tents, and while he

hesitated as to whether he should dent theclassic profile of the color-bearer or juswist his nose as a sign of displeasure, the

voice of the evangelist arose to a roar andhundered out. Hopalong duckednstinctively.

"Stop! Stop before it is too late,before death takes you in the wallow oyour sins! Repent and gain salvation"

Hopalong felt relieved, but his faceetained its expression of childlikennocence even after he realized that he

was not being personally addressed; and

8/12/2019 Mu

mulford clarence e - bar-20 days

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