Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
"Boys," Buck remarked, "we won't bother about th' line very much for a
while. It's been a peaceable sort of a fracas, anyhow, an' I don't
expect much further trouble. If H2 cows straggle across an' yo're
right handy to 'em an' ain't got nothing pressing to do, drive 'em
back; but don't look for 'em particularly. There won't be no more
drives against us for a long time. We've got to hunt rustlers from now
on, an' hunt hard, or they'll get too numerous to handle very easy.
Let th' cows take care of themselves along th' river, Frenchy, an' put
your men up near Big Coulee, staying nights in Number Two. Pete an'
Billy will go with you. That'll protect th' west, an' there won't be
no rustling going on from th' river, nohow. Don't waste no time
herding--put it all in hunting. Hopalong, you, Johnny, Red, an' Skinny
take th' hills country an' make yore headquarters in Number Three an'
Four. Lanky will stay up here until he can handle hisself good again.
I'll ride promiscuous, but if any of you learn anything you want me to
know, leave it with Lanky or th' cook if you can't find me. Just as
soon as we have anything to go on, we'll start on th' war path hot
foot an' clean things up right an' proper."
"What'll we do if we catches anybody rustling?" asked Johnny, assuming
an air of ignorance and curiosity, and ducking quickly as Red swung at
him.
"Give 'em ten dollars reward an' let 'em go," Buck grinned.
"Give me ten if I brings th' Greaser to you?"
"I'll fine you twenty if you waste that much time over him," Buck
replied.
"Whoop!" Johnny exulted. "Th' good old times are coming back again!
Remember Bye-an'-Bye an' Cactus Springs, Buckskin an' Slippery
Trendley? Remember th' good old scraps? Now we'll have something else
to do besides chasing cows an' wiping th' rust off our guns!"
Lanky, who took keen delight in teasing the youngster, frowned
severely. "Yo're just a fool kid, just a happy idiot!" he snorted, and
Johnny looked at him, surprised but grinning. "Yes, you are! I never
seen such a bloody-minded animal in all my born days as you! After all
th' fighting you've gone an' got mixed up in, you still yap for more!
You makes me plumb disgusted, you do!"
"He _is_ awful gory," remarked Hopalong soberly. "Just a animated
massacre in pants."
"Regular Comanche," amended Red, frowning. "What do you think about
him, Frenchy?"
"I'd ruther not say it," Frenchy replied. "You ask Pie--he ain't
scared of nothing, massacre _or_ Comanche."
Johnny looked around the room and blurted out, "You all think th' same
as me, every one of you, even if you are a lot of pussy-cats, an' you
know it, too!"
"Crazy as a locoed cow," Red whispered across the room to Buck, who
nodded sorrowfully and went into the cook shack.
"You wait till I sees Antonio an' you'll find out how crazy I am!"
promised Johnny.
"I shore hopes he spanks you an' sends you home a-bawling," Lanky
snorted. "You needs a good licking, you young cub!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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