As the hobo slunk away the three Frying Pan riders looked after him longingly. He was an ideal mark for their humor. Sam Hogg sensed their longing. "It's all right, boys," he said. "You can go along now. Looks like they ain't goin' to be no trouble here, after all. Not right now, leastways." As one man the three humorists started after the scarecrow. Mrs. Ransom bristled to his protection. "You bullies!" She shook a warning finger. "If I hear of you tormenting that poor little fellow, I'll--well, I'll be angry." "Huh, ma'am," Tad Hicks stuttered. "We wa'n't thinkin' of doin' nothin', nohow." "We figured we'd take him to dinner with us-all," Windy added with defensive genius. Mrs. Ransom shook her head, smiling, as they joined the hobo. They towered above him--a tatterdemalion dwarf between three guardsmen. She rejoined her husband. The sheriff nodded, and the judge and his family moved toward their home. Ransom was flanked by two deputies and further protected by Silent and Dutchy, who brought up a grim rear guard. Snippets turned back and ran to Toothpick. "Thank you for protecting me from that man," she smiled, teasing. "Huh?" Toothpick queried dumbly. "Oh, you men! How dumb you are!" She stamped her foot. Then, on tiptoe, she delivered a quick kiss on the nose of the astounded Toothpick and ran to rejoin her party. Toothpick stared after her. He felt gingerly of his nose and scratched his head. "She meant somethin' by that. But what was it?" he asked himself, and gave up the answer. CHAPTER III KING OF LIARS Tad Hicks, Windy Sam, and Kansas Jones, out of sight of the depot platform, seized the little hobo's arms and dragged him willy-nilly behind a saloon. "Yuh promised yuh wouldn't drink up that cartwheel Mrs. Ransom guv yuh," Tad Hicks reminded him. "Aw, get out and leave me be," the hobo said truculently, with an evident attempt at bravado. "What's that?" Windy roared as he tightened his grip on the arm. The hobo's truculence vanished, and he whined: "Nothin'--where we goin' to eat?" They led him to a Mexican eating house on Depot Street, where they were joined by Toothpick. Having planked their charge in a chair and ordered food, they settled back to have a little fun with the victim. "What's yuhr name?" Windy Sam commenced. "Jim Anson. What's yours?" the hobo asked. "Windy Sam, now----" The man called Jim Anson interrupted him. "Is you called that because you talk too much, or because what you say don't mean nothin'?" he asked innocently. "Ha-ha!" the others exclaimed, and dug the red-faced Sam in the ribs.