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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up"

"Wow!" he
yelled as his feet took huge steps up in the air, each one strictly on
its own course. "Woof!" he grunted in the hot sand as he arose on his
hands and knees and spat alkali.
"What's s'matter?" He asked dazedly of Johnny Nelson. "Ain't it
funny!" he yelled sarcastically as he beheld Johnny holding his sides
with laughter. "Ain't it funny!" he repeated belligerently. "Of course
that four-laigged, knock-kneed, wobblin' son-of-a-Piute had to cut me
out. They wasn't nobody in sight but Billy! Why didn't yu say he was
comin'? Think I can see four ways to once? Why didn't-" At this point
Red cantered up with a calf, and by a quick maneuver, drew the taut
rope against the rear of Billy's knees, causing that unfortunate to
sit down heavily. As he arose choking with broken-winded profanity Red
dragged the animal to the fire, and Billy forgot his grievances in the
press of labor.
"How many, Buck?" Asked Red.
"One-eighty."
"How does she stand?"
"Yore eighteen to th' bad," replied the foreman. "Th' son-of-a-gun!"
marveled Red, riding off.
Another whoop interrupted them, and Billy quit watching out of the
corner eye for pugnacious calves as he prepared for Hopalong.
"Hey, Buck, this here cuss was with a Barred-Horseshoe cow," he
announced as he turned it over to the branding man. Buck made a tally
in a separate column and released the animal.


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