Having delivered the above instructions and prevarications, Buck throttled the laugh which threatened to injure him and scowled at Red, who again fled into the saloon for fear of spoiling it all with revealed mirth. The convalescent stared in open-mouthed astonishment: “What's he doin' in th' hotel, an' who's goin' to plug him?” He asked. “Yu leave that to me,” replied Buck, “All yu has to do is to get on th' job with yore gun,” handing the weapon to him, “an' freeze to him like a flea on a cow. Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't none of yore funeral--yu do what I said.” “Blast th' women!” exploded Billy, moving off. When he had entered the hotel Buck went in to Red. “For Pete's sake!” moaned that person in senseless reiteration. “Th' Lord help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!” he shouted. “Gimme a drink an' let me tell th' boys.” The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them. Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring the desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6. Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and entered. He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young woman, and on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly white-whiskered gentleman who was reading a magazine. Billy felt like a criminal for a few seconds and then there came to him the thought that his was a mission of great import and he braced himself to face any ordeal. “Anyway,” he thought, “th' prettier they are th' more dust they can raise.” “What are yu doing here?” Cried Hopalong in amazement. “That's all right,” averred the protector, confidentially. “What's all right?” “Why, everything,” replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable. The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw the armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth. He felt for his spectacles, but did not need them, for he could see nothing but the Colt's which Billy jabbed at him. “None of that!” snapped Billy. “'ands up!” he ordered, and the hands went up so quick that when they stopped the jerk shook the room. Peering over the gentleman's leg, Billy saw the spectacles and backed to the wall as he apologized: “It's shore on me, Stranger--I reckoned yu was contemplatin' some gun-play.” Hopalong, blazing with wrath, arose and shoved Billy toward the hail, when Mr. Johnny Nelson, oozing fight and importance, intruded his person into the zone of action. “Lord!” ejaculated the newcomer, staring at the vision of female loveliness which so suddenly greeted him. “Mamma,” he added under his breath. Then he tore off his sombrero: “Come out of this, Billy, yu chump!” he exploded, backing toward the door, being followed by the protector. Hopalong slammed the door and turned to his hostess, apologizing for the disturbance. “Who are they?” Palpitated Miss Deane.