Hopalong warmed to the eager youngster—he was so much like Jimmy; and Jimmy, be it known, could bedevil Hopalong as much as any man alive and not even get an unkind word for it. "I ’m scared to let you come, Kid; she ’d fumigate th’ ranch when you left. Th’ last twenty-four hours has outlawed you, all right. You keep to th’ brush trails in th’ draws—don’t cavort none on skylines till you lose that biled owl look." He laughed at the other’s expression and placed his hands on the youth’s shoulders. "That ain’t it, Kid; I never apologizes, serious, for th’ looks of my friends. They ’re my friends, drunk or sober, in h—l or out of it. I just can’t see how you can cut in proper. Better wait for me here—I ’ll turn up, all right. Meanwhile, as I says before, look out for tin-horns." Sammy watched him ride away, and then slammed his sombrero on the ground and jumped on it, after which he felt relieved. Procuring his gun from the clerk he paused to cross-examine, but after a fruitless half hour he sauntered out, hiding his vexation, to wrestle with the problem in the open. Passing the window of a general store he idly glanced at the meager display behind the dusty glass and a sudden grin transfigured his countenance. He would find out about the girl first and that would help him solve the puzzle. Thinking thus he wandered in carelessly and he wandered out again gravely clutching a small package. Slipping behind the next building he tore off the paper and carefully crumpled and soiled with dust the purchase. Then he went down to the depot and followed the railroad tracks toward the other side of the square. Reaching the place where the south trail crossed the tracks he left them and walked slowly toward a small depression that was surrounded by hoofprints. He stooped quickly and straightened up with a woman’s handkerchief dangling from his fingers. He grinned foolishly, examined it, sniffed at it and scratched his head while he cogitated. A decisive wave of his hand apprised the two spectators that he had arrived at a conclusion, which he bore out by heading straight for the postoffice, which was a part of the grocery store. The postmaster and grocer, in person one, watched his approach with frank curiosity. Sammy nodded and went in the store, followed by the proprietor. "Howd’y," he remarked, producing the handkerchief. "Just picked this up over on th’ trail. Know who dropped it?" "Annie Allison, I reckon," replied the other. "She came in that way from th’ Bar-U. Want to leave it?" Sammy considered. "Why, I might as well take it to her—I’m goin’ down there purty soon. Don’t know any other ranch that might use a broncho-buster, do you?" The proprietor shook his head. "No; most folks ’round here bust their own. Perfessional?" Sammy nodded. "Yes. Here, gimme two-bits’ worth of them pep’mint lozengers. Yes, it shore is fine; but it ’ll rain before long. Well, by-by."