Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
He lost an hour in this, a feverishly impatient hour, punctuated with
curses as he limped along and with an unsparing quirt once he was
astride. What devilish Humpty Dumpty had cheated him this time? "All
the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty
together again"--they couldn't if he once caught up with the Mexican.
He laughed grimly and swore again as the cranky beast beneath him
shied a pain into his sore leg. "Go on, you!" he yelled, as he swept
up to where the ropes still dangled against the wall. "Th' Mexican
first," he muttered. The world was not big enough to hide the murderer
of Curley, to save him from his just deserts. The two trails lay plain
before him in the brilliant moonlight and his pony sprang forward
toward the spot where Antonio had disappeared in the chaparral.
CHAPTER XXXII
NATURE TAKES A HAND
When Hopalong caught up with his four companions he was astonished by
the conditions on the mesa. Instead of a bowlder-strewn, rocky plain
as he had believed it to be he found himself on a table-land cut and
barred by fissures which ran in all directions. At one time these had
been open almost to the level of the surrounding pasture but the winds
had swept sand and debris into the gashes until now none were much
more than ten feet deep. Narrow alleyways which led in every
direction, twisting and turning, now blocked and now open for many
feet in depth, their walls sand-beaten to a smoothness baffling the
grip of one who would scale them, were not the same in a fight as a
comparatively flat plain broken only by miscellaneous bowlders and
hummocks. There could be no concerted dash for the reason that one
group of the attacking force might be delayed until after another had
begun to fight. And it was possible, even probable, that the turns in
the alleyways might be guarded; and once separated in the heat of
battle it would be easy enough to shoot each other. Instead of a
dashing fight soon to be over, it looked as though it would be a
deadly game of hide and seek to wear out the players and which might
last for an indefinite length of time. It was disconcerting to find
that what had been regarded as the hardest part of the whole affair,
the gaining of the mesa top, was the easiest.
"Here, fellows!" Hopalong growled. "We'll stick together till we get
right close, an' then if we have time an' these infernal gorges don't
stop us, we may be able to spread out. We've got to move easy, too. If
we go galloping reckless we'll run into some guard an' there won't be
no surprise party on Thunder Mesa. We can count on having light,
though not as much as we might have, for th' moon won't go back on us
till th' sun fades it."
"It's light enough," growled Skinny. "Come on--we've got to go ahead
an' every minute counts. _I_ didn't think we'd lose so much time
roping them knobs an' getting up."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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