Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
The Mexican shuffled away as Cavalry and Clausen, loaded down,
appeared over the edge of the mesa wall and dropped their loads at
Shaw's feet.
"What did you tell him to get?" asked Clausen, marvelling.
"What do you think I told him to get?" snapped Shaw.
"I don't know, seeing what he brought back," was the reply.
Shaw examined the pile. "G-d's name, what's all this stuff?" he
roared. "Bacon! An' all th' meat we want is down below. Canned milk!
Two bottles XXX Cough Syrup, four bottles of whiskey, bottle vaniller
extract, plug tobacco, an' three harmonicas! Is _that_ flour!" he
yelled, glaring at a small bag. "Twenty pounds! Five pounds of salt!"
"I reckon he bought all th' cartridges in town," Cavalry announced,
staggering into sight with a box on his shoulder. "Lord, but it's
heavy!"
"Twenty pounds of flour to last nine men a month!" Shaw shouted,
kicking at the bag. "An' look at this coffee--two pounds! I'll teach
him a lesson when he gets sober."
"Well, he made up th' weight in th' cartridges," Cavalry grinned. He
grasped Shaw's arm. "What's got into Manuel?"
The leader looked and sprinted to the lookout rock, where Manuel was
gesticulating, and took the glasses. Half a minute later he returned
them to the Mexican and rejoined his companions near the pile of
supplies.
"What is it?" asked Cavalry.
"Some of our Eagle friends. Mebby they want cards in this game, but
we'll waste little time with 'em. Post th' fellers along th' edge,
Clausen, an' you watch th' trail up. Keep 'em covered while I talks
with 'em. Don't be slow to burn powder if they gets to pushing
things."
"They trailed Frisco," growled Cavalry.
"Shore; oh, he was a great success!" snapped Shaw, going to the edge
of the mesa to await the eight newcomers, his men finding convenient
places along the top of the wall, their rifles ready for action.
They did not have long to wait for soon Nevada and Chet Bates rode
into the clearing and made for the trail.
"That's far enough, Nevada!" shouted Shaw, holding up his hand.
"Why, hullo, Shaw!" cried the man below. "Yo're up a good tree, all
right," he laughed.
"Yes."
"Can we ride up, or do we have to take shank's mare?"
"Neither."
"Well, we want some water after that ride," replied Nevada.
"Plenty of it below. Nobody asked you to take that ride. What do you
want, anyhow?"
"Why, when Frisco said you was out here we thought we'd drop in on you
an' pay you a little visit."
"You have paid us a little visit. Call again next summer."
"Running many cows?" asked Nevada.
"Nope; educating coyotes. Didn't see none, did you?"
Nevada exchanged a few words with his companion and then looked up
again. "I reckon you need us, Shaw. Eight more men means twice as many
cows; an' we can all fight a little if th' ranches get busy out here."
"We're crowded now. Better water up an' hit th' back trail. It's hard
riding in th' dark."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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