Antonio shrugged his shoulders and rode south, filled with elation at his success in stirring up hostility between the two ranches, but his heart seethed with murder for the blow. He would carry a message to Meeker that would call for harsh measures, and the war would be on. As the Mexican departed Lanky Smith rode into sight and cantered forward to meet his friend. "What's up?" he asked. "I don't know, yet," replied Hopalong. "Greasers are such liars I don't know what to think," and he related the matter to his companion. "Lord, but you sent a stiff message to Meeker!" Lanky exclaimed. "You keep yore eyes plumb open from now on. Meeker'll be wild, an' th' Greaser won't forget that blow." "Was anybody on th' east end this morning?" "Shore; me an' Pete," Lanky replied, frowning. "He couldn't get a cow acrost without us seein' him--he lied." "Well, it makes no difference how he got across; he was there, an' that's all I care about." "There's one of his outfit now," Lanky said. Hopalong looked around and saw an H2 puncher riding slowly past them, about two hundred yards to the south. "Who is he?" Lanky asked. "Doc Riley. Meeker got him an' Curley out of a bad scrape up north an' took them both to punch for him. I hear he is some bad with th' Colt. Sort of reckons he's a whole war-party in breech-cloths an' war-paint just 'cause he's got his man." "He's gettin' close to th' line," Lanky remarked. "Yes, because we've been turnin' their cows." "Reckon he won't stop us none to speak of." Doc had stopped and was watching them and while he looked a cow blundered out of the brush and started to cross the line. Hopalong spurred forward to stop it, followed by Lanky, and Doc rode to intercept them. "G'wan back, you bone-yard!" Hopalong shouted, firing his Colt in front of the animal, which now turned and ran back. Doc slid to a stand, his Colt out. "What do you think you're doing with that cow?" "None of yore business!" Hopalong retorted. Doc backed away so he could watch Lanky, his hand leaping up, and Hopalong fired. Doc dropped the weapon and grabbed at his right arm, cursing wildly. "You half-breed!" cried Hopalong, riding closer. "Next time you gets any curious about what I'm doing, you better write. You're a fine specimen to pull a gun on me, you are!" "You'll stop turnin' our cows, or you'll get a pass to h--l!" retorted Doc. "We won't stand for it no more, an' when th' boys hears about this you'll have all you can take care of." "I ain't got nothing to do but ride th' line an' answer questions like I did yourn," Hopalong rejoined. "I will have lots of time to take care of any little trouble that blows up from yore way. But _Meeker's_ th' man I want to see. Tell him to take a herd across this line, will you?" "You'll see him!" snapped Doc. "An' you'll need to see him first, too." "I don't pot-shoot--I'll leave that for you fellers. All I want is an even break." "You'll get it," replied Doc, wheeling and riding off.