I've had the yaller fever an I've been shot full of holes, I've
grabbed an army mule plumb by its tail;
I've never been so snortin', really highfalutin' mad As when y'u up
an' hands me ginger ale!
Hopalong laughed joyously at a remark made by Waffles and the
stranger glanced quickly at him. His merry, boyish face, underlined by
a jaw showing great firmness and set with an expression of
aggressive self-reliance, impressed the stranger and he remarked to
Red, who lounged lazily near him, that he was surprised to see such a
face on so young a man and he asked who the player was.
"Oh, his name's Hopalong Cassidy," answered Red. "He's di' cuss that
raised that ruction down in Mexico last spring. Rode his cayuse in a
saloon and played with the loungers and had to shoot one before he got
out. When he did get out he had to fight a whole bunch of Mexicans an'
even potted their marshal, who had di' drop on him. Then he returned
and visited the marshal about a month later, took his gun away from
him an' then cut th' cards to see if he was a prisoner or not. He's a
shore funny cuss."
The tenderfoot gasped his amazement. "Are you not fooling with me?"
He asked.
"Tell him yu came after that five hundred dollars reward and see,"
answered Red goodnaturedly.
"Holy smoke!" shouted Waffles as Hopalong won his sixth consecutive
pot.
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