"Git that-belt loose; I ain't-no cow," brokenly blazed out the
picketed Hopalong. Skinny did so, handed the irate man his Colts and
returned to his own post, from where he fired twice, reporting the
shots.
"I'm tryin' to get him on th' glance' first one went high an' th'
other fell flat," he explained.
Hopalong listened eagerly, for this was shooting that he could
appreciate. "Lemme see," he commanded. Skinny dragged him over to a
crack and settled down for another try
"Where is he, Skinny?" Asked Hopalong.
"Behind that second big one. No, over on this here side. See that
smooth granite? If I can get her there on th' right spot he'll shore
know it." He aimed carefully and fired.
Through Pete's glasses Hopalong saw a leaden splotch appear on the
rock and he notified the marksman that he was shooting high. "Put her
on that bump closer down," he suggested. Skinny did so and another
yell reached their ears.
"That's a dandy. Yore shore all right, yu old cuss," complimented
Hopalong, elated at the success of the experiment.
Skinny fired again and a brown arm flopped out into sight. Another
shot struck it and it jerked as though it were lifeless.
"He's cashed. See how she jumped? Like a rope," remarked Skinny with
a grin. The arm lay quiet.
Pete had gained his last cover and was all eyes and Colts. Lanky was
also very close in and was intently watching one particular rock.
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