Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
Arch grinned from one to the other. "Seein' as how we're all friends of
Nelson, an' his wife ought to be kept calm, I reckon I ought to spit
it out straight. Here, you listen," and he told the truth as fully and
completely as he knew it.
Arnold shook his head at the end of the recital. The loss of the herd
money was a hard blow, but he was too much of a man to make it his
chief concern. "Arch," he said slowly, "yo're so fond of breakin'
records that yo're goin' to sleep in town, get another horse at
daylight, an' break yore own record gettin' back to Mesquite. Tell that
son-in-law of mine to come home right away, before Peggy is left a
widow. It's no fault of his that he lost it--it's to his credit, goin'
to the aid of his men. I wouldn't 'a' had it to lose if it wasn't for
what he's done for th' SV. He earned it for me; an' if he's lost it,
all right."
"Most generally th' East sends us purty poor specimens," observed Dave.
"Once in awhile we get a thoroughbred. Gunsight's proud of th' one it
got."
"Arnold," said Arch eagerly, "I'll get to Mesquite tomorrow if it's
moved to th' other side of h--l!"
Hopalong took the cigar from his mouth. "Wait a minute," he said.
He slowly knocked the ashes from it and looked around. "While I'm
appreciatin' what you just said, Arnold, I don't agree with it."
He thought for a moment and then continued. "You don't know that
son-in-law of yourn like I do. Somebody knocked him on th' head, stole
his money an' his guns. Don't forget th' guns. Bein' an easterner,
that mebby don't mean anythin' to you; but bein' an old Bar-20 man, it
means a heap to me. He won't leave till he's squared up, all around.
I _know_ it. Seein' how it is, we got to accept it; an' figger out
some way to make his wife take it easy, an' not do no worryin'. Here!"
he exclaimed, leaning forward. "Arnold, you sit down an' write him a
letter. Write it now. Tell him to stay down there until he gets a good
herd of yearlin's. Then Arch has got to start back in th' mornin' an'
join th' waggin, an' come home like he ought to. He stays here tonight,
an' nobody has seen him, at all."
"An' Dave don't need to bother with any check," said Red. "Hoppy an' me
has plenty of money. We'll start for Mesquite at daylight, Arch, here,
ridin' with us till we meet th' waggin. Of course, Hoppy don't mean
that yo're really goin' to write a letter, Arnold," he explained.
"That's just what I _do_ mean," said Hopalong. "He's goin' to write th'
letter, but he ain't goin' to send it. He'll give it to Arch, an' then
it can be torn up. What's th' use of lyin' when it's so easy to tell
th' truth? 'Though I'm admittin' I wasn't thinkin' of that so much as
I was that a man can allus tell th' truth better'n he can lie. When he
tells about th' letter, he's goin' to be talkin' about a real letter,
what won't get to changin' around in a day or two, or when he gets
rattled. Mrs. Johnny is mebby goin' to ask a lot of questions."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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