Hopalong Cassidy - Clarence E. Mulford

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too. It gets bigger every year an' that blizzard didn't make much difference in th' work, neither," Buck replied. "I'll help you out when you get ready to drive."

      "No you won't; you can help me an' Bartlett more by keeping all yore men watchin' that line," quickly responded Lucas. "We'll work together, me an' Bartlett, an' we'll have all th' men we want. You just show that man Meeker that range grabbin' ain't healthy down here—that's all we want. Did he send you any help in th' valley?"

      "Yes, three men," Buck replied. "But we'll break even on that when he works along th' boundary."

      "Have any trouble with 'em?"

      "Not a bit."

      "I sent Wood Wright down to Eagle th' other day, an' he says th' town is shore there'll be a big range war," remarked Lucas. "He said there's lots of excitement down there an' they act like they wish th' trouble would hurry up an' happen. We've got to watch that town, all right."

      "If there's a war th' rustlers'll flock here from all over," interposed Rich Finn.

      "Huh!" snorted Hopalong. "They'll flock out again if we get a chance to look for 'em. An' that town'll shore get into trouble if it don't live plumb easy. You know what happened th' last time rustlin' got to be th' style, don't you?"

      "Well," replied Lucas, "I've fixed it with Cowan to get news to me an' Bartlett if anything sudden comes up. If you need us just let him know an' we'll be with you in two shakes."

      "That's good, but I don't reckon I'll need any help, leastwise not for a long time," Buck responded. "But I tell you what you might do, when you can; make up a vigilance committee from yore outfits an' ride range for rustlers. We can take care of all that comes on us, but we won't have no time to bother about th' rest of th' range. An' if you do that it'll shut 'em out of our north range."

      "We'll do it," Lucas promised. "Bartlett is going to watch th' trails north to see if he can catch anybody runnin' cattle to th' railroad construction camps. Every suspicious lookin' stranger is going to be held up an' asked questions; an' if we find any runnin' irons, you know what that means."

      "I reckon we can handle th' situation, all right, no matter how hard it gets," laughed the Bar-20 foreman.

      "Well, I'll be leavin' you now," Lucas remarked as they reached the Bar-20 bunk house. "We begin to round up next week, an' there's lots to be done before then. Say, can I use yore chuck wagon? Mine is shore done for."

      "Why, of course," replied Buck heartily. "Take it now, if you want, or any time you send for it."

      "Much obliged; come on, fellers," Lucas cried to his men. "We're goin' home."

      Chapter IV.

      In West Arroyo

      Hopalong was heading for Lookout Peak, the highest of the White Horse Hills, by way of West Arroyo, which he entered half an hour after he had forded the creek, and was half way to the line when, rounding a sharp turn, he saw Mary Meeker ahead of him. She was off her horse picking flowers when she heard him and she stood erect, smiling.

      "Why, I didn't think I'd see you," she said. "I've been picking flowers—see them? Ain't they pretty?" she asked, holding them out for his inspection.

      "They shore are," he replied, not looking at the flowers at all, but into her big, brown eyes. "An' they're some lucky, too," he asserted, grinning.

      She lowered her head, burying her face in the blossoms and then picked a few petals and let them fall one by one from her fingers. "You didn't look at them at all," she chided.

      "Oh, yes, I did," he laughed. "But I see flowers all th' time, and not much of you."

      "That's nice—they are so pretty. I just love them."

      "Yes. I reckon they are," doubtfully.

      She looked up at him, her eyes laughing and her white teeth glistening between their red frames. "Why don't you scold me?" she asked.

      "Scold you! What for?"

      "Why, for being on yore ranch, for being across th' line an' in th' valley."

      "Good Lord! Why, there ain't no lines for you! You can go anywhere."

      "In th' valley?" she asked, again hiding her face in the flowers.

      "Why, of course. What ever made you think you can't?"

      "I'm one of th' H2," she responded. "Paw says I run it. But I'm awful glad you won't care."

      "Well, as far as riding where you please is concerned, you run this ranch, too."

      "There's a pretty flower," she said, looking at the top of the bank. "That purple one; see it?" she asked, pointing.

      "Yes. I'll get it for you," he replied, leaping from the saddle and half way up the bank before she knew it. He slid down again and handed the blossom to her. "There."

      "Thank you."

      "See any more you wants?"

      "No; this is enough. Thank you for getting it for me."

      "Oh, shucks; that was nothing," he laughed awkwardly. "That was shore easy."

      "I'm going to give it to you for not scolding me about being over th' line," she said, holding it out to him.

      "No; not for that," he said slowly. "Can't you think of some other reason?"

      "Don't you want it?"

      "Want it!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "Shore I want it. But not for what you said."

      "Will you wear it because we're friends?"

      "Now yo're talking!"

      She looked up and laughed, her cheeks dimpling, and then pinned it to his shirt, while he held his breath lest the inflation of his lungs bother her. It was nice to have a flower pinned on one's shirt by a pretty girl.

      "There," she laughed, stepping back to look at it.

      "Gosh!" he complained, ruefully. "You've pinned it up so high I can't see it. Why not put it lower down?"

      She changed it while he grinned at how his scheming had born fruit. He was a hog, he knew that, but he did not care.

      "Oh, I reckon I'm all right!" he exulted. "Shore you don't see no more you want?"

      "Yes; an' I must go now," she replied, going towards her horse. "I'll be late with th' dinner if I don't hurry."

      "What! Do you cook for that hungry outfit?"

      "No, not for them—just for Paw an' me."

      "When are you comin' up again for more flowers?"

      "I don't know. You see, I'm going to make cookies some day this week, but I don't know just when. Do you like cookies, an' cake?"

      "You bet I do! Why?"

      "I'll bring some with me th' next time. Paw says they're th' best he ever ate."

      "Bet I'll say so, too," he replied, stepping forward to help her into the saddle, but she sprang into it before he reached her side, and he vaulted on his own horse and joined her.

      She suddenly turned and looked him straight in the eyes. "Tell me, honest, has yore ranch any right to keep our cows south of that line?"

      "Yes, we have. Our boundaries are fixed. We gave th' Three Triangle about eighty square miles of range so our valley would be free from all cows but our own. That's all th' land between th' line an' th' Jumping Bear, an' it was a big price, too. They never drove a cow over on us."

      She looked disappointed and toyed with her quirt.

      "Why don't you want to let Paw use th' valley?"

      "It ain't big enough for our own cows, an' we can't share it. As it is, we'll have to drive ten thousand on leased range next year to give our grass a rest."

      "Well,—" she stopped and he waited to hear what she would say, and then asked

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