We better get a move on an'
find that ornery little cuss," replied Buck.
"O. K., only I ain't losin' no sleep about Hoppy. His gun's too
lively for me to do any worryin'," asserted Red.
"They'll get lynched some time, shore," declared Buck.
"Not if they find Hoppy," grimly replied Red.
They tore through Santa Fe, only stopping long enough to wet their
throats, and after several hours of hard riding entered Alameda, where
they found Hopalong in the manner narrated.
After some time the three left the room and headed for Albuquerque,
twelve miles to the south. At ten o'clock they dismounted before the
Nugget and Rope, an unpainted wooden building supposed to be a clever
combination of barroom, dance and gambling hall and hotel. The
cleverness lay in the man who could find the hotel part.
CHAPTER VII
The Open Door
The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being
troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose of
inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for
obvious reasons. Probably not one man in ten was fortunate enough to
have no one "looking for him," and the lighted interior assured good
hunting to any one in the dark street. He was continually opening the
door, which every newcomer promptly and forcibly slammed shut. When he
saw men walk across the room for the express purpose of slamming it he
began to cherish the idea that there was a conspiracy on foot to anger
him and thus force him to bring about his own death.
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