Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
"You can bet yore head they didn't drive it straight to their
hang-out--they ain't doing nothing like that," Hopalong replied. "They
struck south after they thought they had throwed off any pursuit. They
drove it almost north, so far; savvy?"
"Well, they've got to have water if they're holding cows out on this
stove," Red rejoined. "An' I just told you where th' water is."
"G'wan! Ten cows would drain that hole in two days!" Hopalong
responded. "They've also got to have grass, though mebby you never
knew that. An' what about that herd Meeker lost? They wouldn't circle
so far to a one-by-nothing water hole like that one is."
"Well, then, where'll they find grass an' water out here?" demanded
Red, impatiently. "Th' desert's west, though mebby you never knew
that!"
"Red, we've been a pair of fools!" Hopalong cried, slapping his thigh
by way of emphasis. "Here we are skating around up here when Thunder
Mesa lays south, with plenty of water an' a fair pasture on all sides
of it! That's where we'll go."
"Hoppy, once in a great while you do show some intelligence, an'
you've shown some now; but we better go up to that water hole first,"
Red replied. "We can swing south then. We're so close to it now that
there ain't nothing to be gained by not taking a look at it. Mebby
we'll find a trail, or something."
"Right you are; come on. There ain't no use of us riding separate no
more."
Half an hour later Hopalong pointed to one side, to a few half-burned
greasewood and mesquite sticks which radiated like the spokes of a
wheel.
"Yes, I saw 'em," Red remarked. "They couldn't wait till they got home
before they changed th' brand, blamed fools."
"Yes, an' that explains th' HQQ cow I discovered," Hopalong quickly
replied. "They got too blamed hasty to blot it an' it got away from
'em."
"Well, it shore beats th' devil how Meeker had to go an' stir up this
nest of rattlers," Red grumbled, angrily.
"If these fellers hang out at Thunder Mesa an' drive to th' railroad
camps we ought to strike their trail purty close to th' water hole,"
Hopalong remarked. "It's right in their path."
Red nodded his head. "Yes, we ought to."
An hour later they rode around a chaparral and came within sight of
the water hole, which lay a few hundred yards away. As they did so a
man rode up out of the depression and started north, unconscious of
his danger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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