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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Bar-20 Days"

Their arrival and the
manner of their speech riled Cranky Joe, who turned around and loosed
one more remark; and he never knew how near to death he was at that
moment.
"You fellers must own the earth, the way you act," he said to Red and
his three companions.
"We ain't fencing it in to prove it," rejoined Hopalong, his hand on
Red's arm.
Cranky Joe wheeled to rejoin his friends. "To-morrow," he said,
significantly.
Hopalong and his men watched the six ride away, too enraged to speak for
a moment. Then the drive foreman mastered himself and turned to Hawkins.
"Where's their ranch house?" he demanded, sharply. "There must be some
way out of this, an' we've got to find it; an' before to-morrow."
"West; three hours' ride along the fence. I could find 'em the darkest
night what ever happened; I was out there once," Hawkins replied.
"Describe 'em as exact as you can," demanded Hopalong, and when Hawkins
had done so the Bar-20 drive foreman slapped his thigh and laughed
nastily. "One house with one door an' only two windows--are you shore?
Good! Where's the corrals? Good again! So they'll take pay for their
blasted fence, eh? Cash or cows, hey! Don't want no fight 'less it's
necessary, but they're going to make us pay for the fence that killed
two hundred head, an' blamed nigh got us, too. An' half a cent a head
for drinking water! I've paid that more'n once--some of the poor devils
squatting on the range ain't got nothing to sell but water, but I don't
buy none out of Bennett's Creek! Pete, you mounted fellers round up a
little--bunch the herd a little closer, an' drive straight along the
trail towards that other fence.


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