"Dunno; but he ain’t no cow-punch, an’ likewise he ain’t no tenderfoot. Looks like a tin-horn to me. His fingers was purty slick gettin’ th’ bills off his roll. They was so slick I counted ’em to be sure he was n’t robbin’ hisself. But there was n’t no folded bill there. Here, have a drink with me—business is pickin’ up." * * * * * When the east-bound accommodation pulled into X—— at dusk two men jumped off and started toward the nearest hotel. The proprietor of the Come-Again assigned them a room and spoke of supper, to which they intimated their ability to do justice to "anythin’ you got." As they turned away carelessly toward the "washroom" one of them halted: "We’re expectin’ a friend," and he gave a concise description of the third man. "Why, he ’s upstairs now—first door to th’ left at th’ top of th’ flight—got in this afternoon. But he said he did n’t want to be bothered none," hastily warned the proprietor. "That’s right—you can let that go for th’ three of us," replied Hopalong, smiling. "Said his nerves was all stampeded," commented the host, dubiously. Hopalong winked, grinning: "Did n’t act none that-a-way, did he?" "Oh, I _told_ him somebody was stringin’ him," laughed the proprietor. "Reckon we ’ll go up an’ hustle him down to his feed," Tex remarked, leading the way, with Hopalong stepping on his heels. The proprietor studied the three names on his register, and spoke to the horseman, who now was playing solitaire in a negligent way. "Wonder what’s up, Dick?" "Dunno," replied Dick, holding aloft a queen of hearts and studying the layout. "Reckon you better let this deal go by. Keep yore chips out, Joe; don’t like th’ looks of th’ pair of ’em. That red-head looks like a bad customer, if his corn ’s stepped on. Mebby their nervous friend has did somethin’ they don’t like." The knocking upstairs now reverberated through the house and a peevish voice threatened destruction to the door unless it opened speedily. "That’s th’ red-head," remarked Dick. "What did I tell you?" The proprietor hastened from behind the bar and went up the steep, narrow stairs with undignified haste. "Don’t bust that door!" he cried. "Don’t you bust it!" "Aw, close yore face!" growled a voice, and Dick nodded his head wisely. "Both of ’em bad customers," he mumbled. There was a crash and the sound of splintering wood, followed by disgusted exclamations. Dick arose and sauntered up to see the show: the host was nervously clutching a bill large enough to pay for several broken doors. The red-head was looking out of the open window while the other man rapidly searched the room. "He dropped his belongings first," audibly commented the man at the window. "Then _he_ dropped." He turned quickly to the proprietor: "Did he have a horse?" "Yes; bought one first thing after he registered."