Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 119: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HOPALONG CASSIDY’S PAL, drawing the weapon from its holster and balancing it in his hand. ‘“ Why, this is a dead ringer for my own guns. Feels right natural. Gimme th’ belt till I see how she hangs.” He removed it and then slung it around his own waist as he stood up, let out two more holes in the strap and —— it to a comfortable fit. “Feels right good again, wearin’ two guns. Pete, I want you to do somethin’ for me, an’ keep yore mouth tight shut about it. Mesquite’s ridin’ away close after dinner. I want you to go out an’ wrangle me my best cayuse, an’ picket it in a hol- low or draw where I can find it right handy. You do it between now an’ noon, an’ [ll sit here with that shotgun an’ hold these fellers down.” “But Buck said for me to stay right here,” protested Pete as a matter of duty. . “You gimme that shotgun, go up an’ tell Buck that I’m takin’ yore place while you ride around an’ limber up for a couple of hours; but don’t you say why I’m re- lievin’ you. Then come back here, get these Colts an’ my Sharps, an’ take ’em with you an’ leave ’em near th’ cayuse.” Pete surrendered the. double-barreled weapon and walked to his horse, picketed near the kitchen; and when he returned a few minutes later he collected the guns and went on his way. Two hours passed and then he rode up again, dismounted and held out his hand for the shotgun. Once again seated in front of the door, he chuckled and leaned closer to his friend, telling where he had left the horse, and adding that he had ridden it “a mite” to take the edge off its meanness, in case - Hopalong might not have recovered enough to exert his full strength. Noon came and passed, and Mesquite roped a fresh horse in the little corral and made ready to depart. He smiled sym- pathetically at the wistful expression on his friend’s face, made a couple of foolish remarks to hide his own feelings and loped northward in the general direction of Big Moose. _Hopalong watched him until he had shrunk to a pin point, and then wandered 5 Out to the : same corral, his eyes on an old 273 mare. This animal had long since lost its speed and stamina, and was practically a pensioner. Jt seldom failed to insist on getting rounded up with the saddle horses, after a pitiful show of independence, and 3 could not be kept out of the caviya with out considerable effort, = Every morning it was collected with the others, driven into the horse corral and turned out again every evening. Day after day it went through this performance, was sworn at by the wranglers in turn, who secretly had a deal of affection for it, and once in awhile some grinning puncher would throw a saddle on its old back and pre- tend to be half scared to death during the sham pitching which ensued. Up at the ranch house Buck Peters peered through a window and saw the con- valescent wander toward the corral. The rope in Hopalong’s hand aroused a surpris- ing amount of suspicion in the foreman’s mind; but it disappeared, and a grin passed over Buck’s face as he saw the rope settle over the head of the old pensioner. He grinned still more when Hopalong led the old timer to the bunk house and put a sad- dle on it. When Hopalong mounted and a rode slowly toward the ranch house Buck | drew back from the window and wanderea to the door. - “ Hello!” he said in simulated surprise — as Hopalong drew up. ‘ You must be feelin’ purty strong to take a chance on that man-killer.”’ Hopalong grinned foolishly. “‘ Honest, Buck,” he replied, “ it’s been so long since I sat a saddle that I just has to get th’ feel of it again.” He patted | the scrawny neck, and then thumbed it, and pretended to be frightened by the sudden show of anger. “ Bad cayuse, Buck, plumb bad.” : *“* Ain’t none worse, I reckon,” chuckled Buck, whose eyes had taken in the empty rifle scabbard and the total lack of gun belts and Colts. ‘‘ Look out she don’t bust in a couple of ribs for you. Where you goin’?” “ Figgerin’ on dashin’ up to Big Moose an’ shootin’ up th’ town,” answered Hop- along, grinning. ae _ Buck doubted if the old mare sould <— a E = sas = —= = —— — < SS rat 4 = —= ~— : = - = Se ae a : SS ee F ~ Se aa Se —-— "