Hopalong listened intently and looked up, staring into the darkness, and
soon a horseman was seen approaching the fire. Hopalong nodded welcome
and waved his hand towards the food, and the stranger, dismounting,
picketed his horse and joined the circle. When the pipes were lighted he
sighed with satisfaction and looked around the group. "Driving north, I
see."
"Yes; an' blamed glad to get off this dry range," Hopalong replied.
"The herd's getting cranky an' hard to hold--but when we pass the creek
everything'll be all right again. An' ain't it hot! When you hear us
kick about the heat it means something."
"I'm going yore way," remarked the stranger. "I came down this trail
about two weeks ago. Reckon I was the last to ride through before the
fence went up. Damned outrage, says I, an' I told 'em so, too. They
couldn't see it that way an' we had a little disagreement about it. They
said as how they was going to patrol it."
"Fence! What fence?" exclaimed Red.
"Where's there any fence?" demanded Hopalong sharply.
"Twenty mile north of the creek," replied the stranger, carefully
packing his pipe.
"What? Twenty miles north of the creek?" cried Hopalong. "What creek?"
"Bennett's. The 4X has strung three strands of barb wire from Coyote
Pass to the North Arm. Thirty mile long, without a gate, so they says.
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