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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up"

We can ride
north `till we walk behind ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I
am in favor of headin' for th' Sulphur Spring Creek district. We can
spend a couple of weeks, if we has to, an' prospect that whole region
without havin' to cut our' water down to a smell an' a taste an live
on jerked beef. If we investigates that country we'll find something
else than sand storms, poisoned water holes an' blisters."
"Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?" Inquired Red,
doubtfully.
"Along th' Canadian an' th' edges, yas; in th' middle, no,"
explained Hopalong. "They hang close together on account of th' war-
whoops, an' they like th' trails purty well because of there allus
bein' somebody passin'."
"Buck ought to send some of th' Panhandle boys up there," suggested
Red. "There's Pie Willis an' th' Jordans-they knows th' Panhandle like
yu knows poker."
Frenchy had paid no apparent attention to the conversation up to
this point, but now he declared himself. "Yu heard what Buck said,
didn't yu?" He asked. "We were told to search th' Staked Plains from
one end to th' other an' I'm goin' to do it if I can hold out long
enough. I ain't goin' to palaver with yu because what yu say can't be
denied as far as wisdom is concerned. Yu may have hit it plumb center,
but I knows what I was ordered to do, an' yu can't get me to go over
there if you shouts all night.


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