There were three doors in the walls, deeply
shrouded in the dusk of the room, and it was very hard to watch all
three at once.
Red was peering into the dark corners, his hand on the butt of his Colt,
and hardly knew what he was looking for. "This joint must 'a' looked
plumb good to that coyote, all right. He had a hell of a lot of luck,
but he won't keep it for long, damn him!" he remarked.
"Quit cussing!" tersely ordered Hopalong. "An' for God's sake, throw out
that damned cigarette! Ain't you got no manners?"
Red listened intently and then grinned. "Hear that? They're playing
dominoes in there--come on!"
"Aw, you chump! 'Dominee' means 'mother' in Latin, which is what they
speaks."
"How do you know?"
"Hanged if I can tell--I've heard it somewhere, that's all."
"Well, I don't care what it means. This is a frame-up so that coyote
can get away. I'll bet they gave him a cayuse an' started him off
while we've been losing time in here. I'm going inside an' ask some
questions."
Before he could put his plan into execution, Hopalong nudged him and he
turned to see his friend staring at one of the doors. There had been no
sound, but he would swear that a monk stood gravely regarding them,
and he rubbed his eyes. He stepped back suspiciously and then started
forward again.
"Look here, stranger," he remarked, with quiet emphasis, "we're after
that cow-lifter, an' we mean to get him.
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