"Too many people over there," Hopalong replied. "An' _they_ know all about th' time we killed Trendley an' wiped out his gang. They won't go where they are shore we'll look." "If I can get sight of one of them Greasers I'll find out where they are," Red growled. "I'll put green rawhide around his face if I have to, an' when he savvys what th' sun is going to do to that hide an' him, he'll talk, all right, an' be glad of th' chance." "To hear you, anybody would think you'd do a thing like that," Hopalong laughed. "I reckon he'd drop at eight hundred, clean an' at th' first shot. But, say, green rawhide wouldn't do a thing to a man's face, would it! When it shrunk he'd know it, all right." "Crush it to a pulp," Skinny remarked. "But who is going to cook th' supper? I'm starved." * * * * * Hopalong awakened suddenly and listened and found Red also awake. Hoofbeats were coming towards the house and Hopalong peered out into the darkness to see who it was, his Colt ready. "Who's that?" he challenged, sharply, the clicks of his gun ringing clear in the night air. "Why, me," replied a well-known voice. "Who'd you think it was?" "Why didn't you stay up in Number Two, like I told you? What's wrong?" "Nothing," Johnny replied, stripping off his saddle and bridle. "An' you came all th' way down here in th' dark, just to wake us up?" Hopalong asked, incredulously. "Twenty miles just for that!" "No. I ain't got here yet--I'm only half way," Johnny retorted. "Can't you see I'm here? An' I didn't care about you waking up. I wanted to get here, an' here I am." "In th' name of heaven, are you drunk, or crazy?" asked Red. "Of all th' d--n fools I ever--" "Oh, shut up, all of you!" growled Skinny, turning over in his bunk. "Lot of locoed cusses that don't know enough to keep still! Let th' Kid alone, why don't you!" he muttered, and was sound asleep again. "No, I ain't drunk or crazy! Think I was going to stay up there when you two fellers are going off scouting to-morrow? Not by a jugful! I ain't letting nothing get past me, all right," Johnny rejoined. "Well, you ain't a-going, anyhow," muttered Hopalong, crawling into his bunk again. "You've got to stay with Skinny--" he did not speak very loud, because he knew it would cause an argument, and he wished to sleep instead of talk. "What'd you say?" demanded Johnny. "For G-d's sake!" marvelled Red. "Can't nobody go an' scratch 'emselves unless th' Kid is on th' ground? Come in here an' get to sleep, you coyote!" Adown th' road, his gun in hand, Comes Whiskey Bill, mad Whiskey-- Johnny hummed. "Hey! What you doing?" he yelled, leaping back. "You heave any more guns on my face an' you'll find out!" roared Skinny, sitting up and throwing Johnny's Colt and belt to the floor. "Fool infant!" "Tumble in an' shut up!" cried Red. "We want some sleep, you sage hen!"