"Aw, what’s eatin’ you! This ain’t no regular drive. An’ did you ever know Shanghai to get left on a deal? How’d we ever got through th’ Cyclone if it hadn’t been for Shanghai? You make me tired. Did you ever know a herd to get over th’ ground so fast? Been you, we ’d be some’re near Big Moose right now. You leave Shanghai alone an’ we ’ll have th’ herd in our pockets afore Peters knows they ’re gone. Nice little bunch, too. Go an’ get yore chuck an’ you ’ll feel better. ’Jennie, my own true loved one, Wait till th’ clouds roll by’"—he rode on to circle the herd. "Did you ever hear such a pill? He thinks nobody knows nothin’ but Shanghai. What do you say, Cracker?" "Well, I kind o’ sides with Ship. We ain’t done as much as Shanghai, if it comes to that, ’ceptin’ night herd." H—l! I ’m wastin’ my breath talkin’ to you. Come on, Chatter, we—why, th’ greedy hog ’s gone a’ready." Bennett made haste to get back to camp. He knew the supplies to be none too plentiful. So did Chatter Spence. Tex stole away as silently as he had come, leaving the cattle-thieves happy in their ignorance of his discovery. He pushed himself hard on his return, fearful of having overstayed the time. Hopalong was waiting for him, however, and listened to his news with quiet interest. "Buck’s cows, Hoppy," was Tex’s greeting, as he arrived on the run. "We got to get ’em but it’s one sweet little job. Old Ship o’ State is a holy terror in a row; Chatter Spence ain’t bad, an’ Argue Bennett an’ Cracker impressed me as bein’ good men to have around. But th’ one we got to watch out for is Shanghai. He never falls down an’ it would n’t surprise me none to know he was watchin’ them four same as I was. There’s two of ’em ridin’ herd an’ three in camp. How do we go at it?" "Got to get th’ two night-ridin’. Tie ’em up an’ th’ other three is easy. Hol’ on a minute till I get th’ bank." Ship o’ State was beginning the twenty-seventh stanza in the melodious history of an incorrigible reprobate who deserved death in every one of them, when he was utterly confounded to hear a voice, almost at his ear, command him to "throw up his hands an’ climb down of ’n that cayuse, _pronto_." Contrary to what all his friends would have expected him to do, he obeyed the command instantly and to the letter. He was relieved of his gun and was being very effectually secured when the strangely quavering voice of Cracker was heard and came near. Ship eyed his captor in wonder. If Cracker were to be captured in the same manner, then this was the coolest man in the country. Nearer and nearer came the voice until Ship actually found himself worrying over the narrowness of the margin of safety. It was not until Cracker went by that he understood. The grotesque shape could only be accounted for in one way: Cracker’s captor was straddling the same pony.