Them fellers that jest
passed are neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs
them. But yu wants to look out fer th' joints in th' town. Guess this
business is out of yore line," he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
"She shore is, but I'm here to stay. Got tired of punchin' an'
reckoned I'd get rich." Here he smiled and glanced at the hole.
"How're yu makin' out?" He asked.
"`Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's
so high. Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents."
Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet. "Any
marshal in this burg?"
"Yep. But he's one of th' gang. No good, an' drunk half th' time an'
half drunk th' rest. Better come down an' have something," invited the
miner.
"I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door,"
replied the puncher.
"Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till
yu gits back. He can hold her all right. Hey, Jake!" he called to a
man who was some hundred paces distant; "Come down here an' keep house
till we gits back, will yu?"
The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and
his newly found friend started for the town.
They entered the "Miner's Rest" and Hopalong fixed the room in his
mind with one swift glance. Three men-and they looked like the crowd
he had stopped before-were playing poker at a table near the window.
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