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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up"

When Buck says anything, she goes. He
wants to know where th' cards are stacked an' why he can't holler
`Keno,' an' I'm goin' to find out if I can. Yu can go to Patagonia if
yu wants to, but yu go alone as far as I am concerned."
"Well, it's better if yu don't go with us," replied Hopalong, taking
it for granted that Red would accompany him. "Yu can prospect this end
of th' game an' we'll be takin' care of th' other. It's two chances
now where we only had one afore."
"Yu go east an' I'll hunt around as ordered," responded Frenchy.
"East nothin'," replied Hopalong. "Yu don't get me to wallow in hot
alkali an' lose time ridin' in ankle-deep sand when I can hit th'
south trail, skirt th' White Sand Hills an' be in God's country again.
I ain't goin' to wrastle with no ca on this here trip, none whatever.
I'm goin' to travel in style, get to Big Spring by ridin' two miles to
where I could only make one on this stove. Then I'll head north along
Sulpher Spring Creek an' have water an' grass all th' way, barrin' a
few stretches. While you are bein' fricasseed I'll be streakin'
through cottonwood groves an' ridin' in the creek."
"Yu'll have to go alone, then," said Red, resolutely. "Frenchy ain't
a-goin' to die of lonesomeness on this desert if I knows what I'm
about, an' I reckon I do, some. Me an' him'll follow out what Buck
said, hunt around for a while an' then Frenchy can go back to th'
ranch to tell Buck what's up an' I'll take th' trail yu are a-scared
of an' meet yu at th' east end of Cunningham Lake three days from
now.


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