Snip! goes his bill an' th' snake slides over th'
Divide. Our fighting friend may stop some coyote's appetite before
morning, though, unless he stays where he is."
Just then a gray wolf blundered in sight a few rods ahead of them,
and Hopalong fired instantly. His companion shrunk from him and looked
at him reproachfully.
"Why did you do that!" she demanded.
"Why, because they costs us big money every year," he replied.
"There's a bounty on them because they pull down calves, an' sometimes
full grown cows. I'm shore wonderin' why he got so close-they're
usually just out of range, where they stays."
"Promise me that you will shoot no more while I am with you.
"Why, shore: I didn't think yu'd care," he replied. "Yu are like
that sky-pilot over to Las Cruces-he preached agin killin' things,
which is all right for him, who didn't have no cows."
"Do you go to the missions?" She asked.
He replied that he did, sometimes, but forgot to add that it was
usually for the purpose of hilarity, for he regarded sky-pilots with
humorous toleration.
"Tell me all about yourself-what you do for enjoyment and all about
your work," she requested.
He explained in minute detail the art of punching cows, and told her
more of the West in half an hour than she could have learned from a
year's experience. She showed such keen interest in his words that it
was a pleasure to talk to her, and he monopolized the conversation
until the town intruded its sprawling collection of unpainted shacks
and adobe huts in their field of vision.
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