Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
"I'll break every bone in his yaller carcass!" Doc shouted, shaking
his fist at the hut. "Every time I see him I want to get my gun going,
an' it's getting worse all th' time. Unwashed pup! I'll fill him full
of lead pills surer than anything some of these days, you see if I
don't!"
"If you don't I will," replied Curley. "I just don't know why I didn't
then because--"
"Four bells--grub pile!" rang out the stentorian voice of Salem, who
could shout louder than any man on the ranch, and the conversation
came to an abrupt end, to be renewed at the table.
When Antonio heard the cook's shout he opened the door a trifle and
then, seeing that the coast was clear, picked up the bundle which
contained his belongings, shouldered his saddle, slipped his rifle
under his arm, and ran to the corral. Juan and Sanchez had been there
before him and he found that they not only had taken four of the best
horses, but that they had also picketed two good ones for him, and had
driven off the remainder to graze, which would delay pursuit should it
be instituted. Saddling the better of the two, he left the other and
cantered northwest until hidden from the sight of any one at the
ranch, and then galloped for safety.
Meeker, returning to the bunk house, found his men in far better humor
than they were in when he left them, although the death and burial of
Ed Joyce and the other misfortunes of the day before had quieted them
a little. As he entered the room he heard Salem in the cook shack,
droning a mournful dirge-like air as he slammed things about.
"Hey, cook!" shouted the foreman, standing in the door of the gallery.
"Cook!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"You are shore you didn't recognize none of them thieves that ran off
our herd yesterday?"
"Nary a one, sir. They was running with all sails set two points off
my port bow, which left me astarn of 'em. I was in that water-logged,
four-wheeled hulk of a chuck wagon an' I couldn't overhaul 'em, sir,
'though I gave chase. I tried a shot with th' chaser, but I was
rolling so hard I couldn't hull 'em. But I'll try again when I'm
sober, sir."
"All right, Salem," laughed Meeker. "Curley, you take yore regular
range. Doc, suppose you take th' west, next to Curley? Chick an' Dan
will have to stay here till they get well enough to ride, an' I'll
need somebody on th' ranch after yesterday, anyhow. Jack, how do you
feel? Good! Ride between here an' Eagle. I'm going to go down to that
town an' see what I can find out."
"But I can ride, Jim," offered Chick, eagerly. "This arm won't bother
me much. Let me stick close to Doc, or one of th' boys. Maybe they
might need me, Jim."
"You stay right here, like I said. We'll have to wait till we're all
right before we can get down to work in earnest. An' every one of you
look out for trouble--shoot first an' talk after." He turned again to
the gallery. "Salem, kill a cow an' sun cure th' meat; we might want
it in a hurry sometime soon. That'll be one cow they don't get,
anyway."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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