"Joe Worth, th’ man yo ’re goin’ to strike for that job. Why don’t you catch him now an’ mebby save yoreself a day’s ride?" "Good idea," endorsed Sammy. "See you later," and the youth wheeled and loped toward the trail, but drew rein when hidden from the "Retreat" by some buildings. He watched the distant horseman until he became a mere dot and then Sammy pushed on after him. There was a satisfied look on his face and he chuckled as he cogitated. "I shore got th’ drift of this; I know th’ game! Wonder how Cassidy got onto it?" He laughed contentedly. "Well, five hundred ain’t too little to split two ways; an’ mebby it is a two-man job. Mr. Joe Worth, who was once Mr. George Atkins, I would n’t give a peso for yore chances after I get th’ lay of th’ ground an’ find out yore habits. Yo ’re goin’ back to Willow Springs as shore as ’dogies’ hang ’round water holes. An’ you ’ll shore dance their tune when you gets there." Mr. Cassidy, arriving at the Bar-U, asked for the foreman and was told that the boss was in town, but would be back sometime in the afternoon. The newcomer replied that he would return later and, carefully keeping out of sight of the ranch house as well as he could, he wheeled and rode back the way he had come, being very desirous to have a good look at the foreman before they met. Arriving at an arroyo several miles north of the ranch he turned into it and, leaving his horse picketed on good grass along the bottom, he climbed to a position where he could see the trail without being seen. Having settled himself comfortably he improved the wait by trying to think out the best way to accomplish the work he had set himself to do. Shooting was too common and hardly justifiable unless Mr. Worth forced the issue with weapons of war. The time passed slowly and he was relieved when a horseman appeared far to the north and jogged toward him, riding with the careless grace of one at home in the saddle. Being thoroughly familiar with the trail and the surrounding country the rider looked straight ahead as if attention to the distance yet untraveled might make it less. He passed within twenty feet of the watcher and went on his way undisturbed. Hopalong waited until he was out of sight around a hill and then, vaulting into the saddle, rode after him, still puzzled as to how he would proceed about the business in hand. He dismounted at the bunkhouse and nodded to those who lingered near the wash bench awaiting their turn. "Just in time to feed," remarked one of the punchers. "Watch yore turn at th’ basins—every man for hisself ’s th’ rule." "All right," Hopalong laughed. "But is there any chance to get a job here?" he asked, anxiously. "You ’ll have to quiz th’ Ol’ Man—here he comes now," and the puncher waved at the approaching foreman. "Hey, Joe! Got a job for this hombre?" he called.