"Yo ’re a white man," responded Hopalong. "Now we all oughta have a drink to bind th’ deal. An’ I reckon supper ’ll go good, too. We ’ll be right glad to have you join us." The invitation was accepted with becoming alacrity. After the meal, and a game of cards, during which both punchers had learned much about the surrounding country, they went on a tour of investigation. They had discovered that the only way south likely to be taken by a man not perfectly familiar with the several little-known mountain trails, was through Lone Tree Pass. A walk about the town, before turning in, disclosed to them the kind and amount of Dave’s purchases: these showed that he expected to be in the saddle more than a few hours. Returning to the hotel they went at once to their room. Sitting on the edge of the bed Hopalong asked a question: "You ’ve got me on t’ lay of th’ land in this part of the country, Tex. Why do you figger he ’ll head south?" Tex blew out the light and settled himself snugly in his bed before replying. "Because anybody else would figger he ’d strike north for th’ Canadian line, or up to Helena an’ West, where a man can get lost easy. I ’ve sort of palled with Dave, an’ I know th’ skunk like a ABC book. His trail will show us th’ way, but it won’t tell us about th’ country ahead of us. I allus like to know what I ’m goin’ up against when I can." "Shore; good-night," muttered Hopalong, and in a moment more soft snores vibrated out through the open window, to be mildly criticised by the cook in the cook shack below. Down in the bar-room the proprietor, having said good-night to his last customer, pushed the column of figures away with a sigh of satisfaction and rested his chin on his hand while he reviewed the events of the day. "Why," he muttered, pugnaciously, coming out of his reveries and pouring himself a liberal drink on the strength of the day’s profits; "why, now I know what that coyote wanted his room at the back of the house for—good thing I got th’ money ahead of time! Well, he ’s got a h—l of a lot of trouble chasin’ him, anyhow, th’ beat." * * * * * With three days’ rations fastened to their saddles Hopalong and Tex whirled away from the Come-Again as the first streak of gray appeared in the eastern sky and after a short distance at full speed to take the devilishness out of their mounts, they slowed to a lope. Heading straight for the Pass, they picked up Dave’s trail less than two miles from town and then settled into a steady gait that ate up the miles without punishing their horses. They had not made any mistake in their mounts for they were powerful and tough, spirited enough to possess temper and courage without any undue nervous waste, and the way they covered ground, with apparently no effort, brought a grim smile to Hopalong’s face.