Johnny lost no time: "Nolan," he said, rocking on his heels, "tell Greener I ’ll kill him if he marries that girl. He killed his first wife by abuse an’ he don’t kill no more. Savvy?" The sheriff warily arose, for here was the opportunity he had sought. The threat to kill had a witness. "An’ if you opens yore toad’s mouth about her like you did tonight, I ’ll kill you, too." The tones were dispassionate, the words deliberate. "Hear that, Jed?" cried the sheriff, excitedly. "Nelson, yo ’re under ar—" "Shut up!" snapped Johnny loudly, this time with feeling. "When yo ’re betters are talkin’ you keep yore face closed. Now, it ain’t hardly healthy to slander wimmin in this country, ’specially _good_ wimmin. You lied like a dog to me tonight, an’ I let you off; don’t try it again." "I told th’ truth!" snapped Nolan, heatedly. "I said she was a flirt, an’ by th’ great horned spoon she is a flirt, an’ you—" The sheriff prided himself upon his quickness, but the leaping gun was kicked out of his hand before he knew what was coming; a chair glanced off Jed’s face and wrapped the front window about itself in its passing, leaving the bar-tender in the throbbing darkness of inter-planetary space; and as the sheriff opened his eyes and recovered from the hard swings his face had stopped, a galloping horse drummed southward toward the Bar-20; and the silence of the night was shattered by lusty war-whoops and a spurting .45. When the sheriff and his posse called at the Bar-20 before breakfast the following morning they found a grouchy outfit and learned some facts. "Where ’s Johnny?" repeated Hopalong, with a rising inflection. "Only wish I knowed!" A murmur of wistful desire arose and Lanky Smith restlessly explained it: "He rampages in ’bout midnight an’ wakes us up with his racket. When we asks what he ’s doin’ with _our_ possessions he suggests we go to h—l. He takes _his_ rifle, Pete’s rifle, Buck’s brand new canteen, ’bout eighty pounds of catridges an’ other useful duffle, _all_ th’ tobacco, an’ blows away quick." "On my cayuse," murmured Red. "Wearin’ my _good_ clothes," added Billy, sorrowfully. "An’ _my_ boots," sighed Hopalong. "I ain’t got no field glasses no more," grumbled Lanky. "But he only got one laig of my new pants," chuckled Skinny. "I was too strong for him." "He yanked my blanket off’n me, which makes me steal Red’s," grinned Pete. "Which you didn’t keep very long!" retorted Red, with derision. "Which makes us all peevish," plaintively muttered Buck. "Now ain’t it a h—l of a note?" laughed Cookie, loudly, forthwith getting scarce. He had nothing good enough to be taken. "An’ whichever was it run ag’in’ yore face, Sheriff?" sympathetically inquired Hopalong. "Mighty good thing it stopped," he added thoughtfully. "Never mind my face!" snorted the peace officer hotly as his deputies smoothed out their grins. "I want to know where Nelson is, an’ d—d quick! We ’ll search the house first."