The Man from Bar 20: A Story of the Cow CountryMulford, Clarence Edward
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The Man from Bar 20: A Story of the Cow Country
Mulford, Clarence Edward
Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
Mounting, he rode across the clearing, and when he reached the water
course he followed it to his cabin. Pepper had given him the card he
needed now for, in the saddle and careless of being seen, which was his
best play, dangerous as it might be, he was riding home from an evening
spent in Hastings. As to answering any questions about the dangling
rope, he either would inform the curious that it was none of their
business, or lie; and whether the lie would be a humorous exaggeration
which could not possibly be believed, or adroit, plausible, and
convincing would be a matter of mood.
Whistling softly he rode across the little plateau, stripped the saddle
from Pepper, who waited until he returned with some sugar, and lit the
lantern. Pepper was not the only member of that partnership whose nose
was useful; and the faint odor of a vile, frontier cigar had lingered
after its possessor had departed.
"Huh! We must 'a' swapped ends tonight; but I'll bet he's doin' more
wonderin' than me. He thinks he's got a lead, findin' that rope. I know
he didn't see me put it there, or go down it; an' I'll bet he don't
know that I came back to it. He can watch an' be cussed."
CHAPTER VII
A COUNCIL OF WAR
Clearing away the breakfast pans the following morning, Johnny did some
soliloquizing.
"This is a nice little shack, but I ain't stuck on it a whole lot. Now
that I've built it, I've got to use it or tip off my hand; an' as long
as I use it they know where to find me. I've got to come back to it.
At th' worst I can hold it against them for five days; an' then th'
outfit'll be up here an' drive 'em off. But if it comes to trouble they
won't let me get to it; they'll pick me off when I'm outside. They're
gettin' more suspicious all th' time, too, judgin' from that missin'
rope an' th' smell of that cigar. Nope; I don't like this shack a
little bit. An' some night when I'm sneakin' back to it, suppose one of
'em is in it, waitin' for me? That wouldn't be nice. First chance I get
I'll tote my tarpaulin an' some supplies out of here an' cache 'em some
place not too far away."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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