"Money," replied Hopalong. "It’s that shiny stuff you buys things with. Spondulix, cash, mazuma. You spend it, you know." Sammy sputtered. He might have frothed had his mouth not been so dry. "Is it?" he demanded with great sarcasm. "I thought mebby it was cows, or buttons. What you handin’ it to me for? I ain’t no d—d beggar!" Hopalong chuckled. "That money’s yourn. I pried it loose from th’ tin-horn that stole it from you. I also, besides, pried off a few chunks more; but them ’s mine. I allus pays myself good wages; an’ th’ aforesaid chunks is plenty an’ generous. Amen." Sammy regarded his smiling friend with a frank suspicion that was brutal. The pleasing bulge of the pockets reassured him and he slowly pocketed his rescued wealth. He growled something doubtless meant for thanks and turned to the bar. "A large chunk of th’ Mojave Desert slid down my throat las’ night an’ I ’m so dry I rustles in th’ breeze. Let’s wet down a li’l." Having extracted some of the rustle he eyed his companion suspiciously. "Thought you was a stranger hereabouts?" "You ’ve called it." "Huh! Then I ’m goin’ to stick close to you an get acquainted with th’ female population of th’ towns we hit. An’ I had allus reckoned lightnin’ was quick!" he soliloquized, regretfully. "How ’d you do it?" he demanded. Hopalong was gazing over his friend’s head at a lurid chromo portraying the Battle of Bull Run and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That shore was some slaughter," he commented. "Well, Kid," he said, holding out his hand, "I ’m leavin’. If you ever gets down my way an’ wants a good job, drop in an’ see us. Th’ clerk ’ll tell you how to get there. An’ th’ next time you gambles, stay sober." "Hey! Wait a minute!" exclaimed Sammy. "Goin’ home now?" "Can’t say as I am, direct." "Comin’ back here before you do?" "Can’t say that, neither. Life is plumb oncertain an’ gunplay ’s even worse. Mebby I will if I ’m alive." "Who you gunnin’ for? Can’t I take a hand?" "Reckon not, Sammy. Why, I ’m cuttin’ in where I ain’t wanted, even if I am needed. But it’s my duty. It’s a h—l of a community as waits for a total stranger to do its work for it. If yo ’re around an’ I come back, why I ’ll see you again. Meanwhile, look out for tin-horns." Sammy followed him outside and grasped his arm. "I can hold up my end in an argument," he asserted fiercely. "You went an’ did me a good turn—lemme do _you_ one. If it’s anythin’ to do with that li’l girl you met to-day I won’t cut in—only on th’ trouble end. I’m particular strong on th’ trouble part. Look here: Ain’t a friend got no rights?"