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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Bar-20 Days"

"Hey, _you_! Yes, _you_! Come
out of that an' put on yore lid! Straddle leather--we can't stay here
all night."
Hopalong started, looked at his sombrero and silently obeyed. As they
rode down the trail and around a corner he turned in his saddle and
looked back; and then rode on, buried in thought.
Billy, grinning, turned and playfully punched him in the ribs. "Getting
glory, Hoppy?"
Hopalong raised his head and looked him steadily in the eyes; and Billy,
losing his curiosity and the grin at the same instant, looked ahead,
whistling softly.

CHAPTER XVII
EDWARDS' ULTIMATUM
Edwards slid off the counter in Jackson's store and glowered at the
pelting rain outside, perturbed and grouchy. The wounded man in the
corner stirred and looked at him without interest and forthwith renewed
his profane monologue, while the proprietor, finishing his task, leaned
back against the shelves and swore softly. It was a lovely atmosphere.
"Seems to me they've been gone a long time," grumbled the wounded man.
"Reckon he led 'em a long chase--had six hours' start, the toad." He
paused and then as an afterthought said with conviction: "But they'll
get him--they allus do when they make up their minds to it."
Edwards nodded moodily and Jackson replied with a monosyllable.
"Wish I could 'a' gone with 'em," Johnny growled.


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