He was waiting for the gun to
waver.
"No, I reckons not," he answered. "Why?"
"Well, I'll jest tell yu since yu asks. This yere claim's mine an'
I'm a reg'lar terror, I am. That's why; an' seein' as it is, yu better
amble some."
Hopalong glanced down the street and saw an interested group
watching him, which only added to his rage for being in such a
position. Then he started to say something, faltered and stared with
horror at a point several feet behind his opponent. The "terror"
sprang to one side in response to Hop-along's expression, as if
fearing that a snake or some such danger threatened him. As he
alighted in his new position he fell forward and Hopalong slid a
smoking Colt in its holster.
Several men left the distant group and ran toward the claim.
Hopalong reached his arm inside the door and brought forth his rifle,
with which he covered their advance.
"Anything yu want?" he shouted savagely.
The men stopped and two of them started to sidle in front of two
others, but Hopalong was not there for the purpose of permitting a
move that would screen any gun play and he stopped the game with a
warning shout. Then the two held up their hands and advanced.
"We wants to git Dan," called out one of them, nodding at the
prostrate figure.
"Come ahead," replied Hopalong, substituting a Colt for the rifle.
They carried their badly wounded and insensible burden back to those
whom they had left, and several curses were hurled at the cowboy, who
only smiled grimly and entered the hut to place things ready for a
siege, should one come.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144