Hopalong rolled a cigarette and took advantage of the movement to speak: "Goin’ back to Texas, Tex?" "Why," replied Tex, pausing to reflect. "Why, I said as how I would to all yore boys, but I reckon mebby Buck needs me worse’n you do. What think?" "Stay up here an’ run for sheriff," was the crisp reply. "This country ’s sick with crooks." "Reckon so." "Good place for undertakers, while th’ boom is on," continued Hopalong, smiling grimly at the truth in his jest. He knew Tex Ewalt. "Th’ boom ’ll be busted flat afore you go home," Tex responded. "It’s fallin’ now. Dave was its high-water mark." They were riding side by side now and Hopalong growled a suggestion: "Go slow, Tex; mebby he ’s holin’ up on us, like he did on Buck. He ain’t more ’n a million miles ahead of us now." "Uh-huh; an’ if he is he ought to get us easy in this place. Got to take a chance, anyhow. Gimme a match—_Look out_!" As he spoke he hurled his horse against Hopalong’s and his left arm dropped to his side with a bullet through it, while his right hand flashed to his hip, where a pungent cloud of smoke burst out to envelop his horse’s head. Off his balance from the unexpected shock, Hopalong’s shot went wide, but the next five, directed at Dave’s head-long rush as he came crashing down through the underbrush, gave promise of better aim. [Illustration: As he spoke he hurled his horse against Hopalong’s, while his right hand flashed to his hip] "I owed him that, anyhow," muttered Tex, his ears ringing from the fusillade so close to him. "An’ I owed you th’ play, Hoppy, ever since that day in th’ brush—" "You don’t owe me nothin’ now, Tex; that’s as close as any in ten years," returned Hopalong. "Well, he showed hisself a d—d ambushin’ snake just as we thought he would. He could a’ got us both if his nerves had n’t got th’ chills an’ fever. We was some careless!" "We was a pair of blasted kids," Tex remarked. "Now what ’ll we do with him? We can’t take him back, an’ buryin’ in solid rock ain’t been in my schoolin’." "We can cover him with rocks, I reckon, but we ain’t got time—besides, how’d he leave Buck?" demanded Hopalong sharply. "Why, he got you, Tex! Here, you close-mouthed fool, lemme fix that hole." Tex stood quietly thoughtful until Hopalong had finished his task. "We ’ll just chuck him off th’ trail, Hoppy; then we won’t have to answer no question or shoot sense into no thick skulls. How ’bout it?" "Uh-huh, go ahead," grunted Hopalong and the two walked over, picked up the unresisting bulk and placed it in a fissure in the rock wall. "By th’ Lord!" swore Tex: "Five shots out of five when you got yore balance—_that’s_ shootin’! _You_ better run for sheriff."