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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up"

Mebby there'll be a woman in th' game, but that ain't none of yore
funeral-yu do what I said."
"Blast th' women!" exploded Billy, moving off. When he had entered the hotel
Buck went in to Red.
"For Pete's sake!" moaned that person in senseless reiteration. "Th' Lord
help Billy! Holy Mackinaw!" he shouted. "Gimme a drink an' let me tell th'
boys."
The members of the outfit were told of the plot and they gave their
uproarious sanction, all needing bracers to sustain them.
Billy found the clerk swapping lies with the bartender and, procuring the
desired information, climbed the stairs and hunted for room No. 6.
Discovering it, he dispensed with formality, pushed open the door and
entered.
He found his friend engaged in conversation with a pretty young woman, and
on a couch at the far side of the room lay an elderly white-whiskered
gentleman who was reading a magazine. Billy felt like a criminal for a few
seconds and then there came to him the thought that his was a mission of
great import and he braced himself to face any ordeal. "Anyway," he thought,
"th' prettier they are th' more dust they can raise."
"What are yu doing here?" Cried Hopalong in amazement.
"That's all right," averred the protector, confidentially.
"What's all right?"
"Why, everything," replied Billy, feeling uncomfortable.
The elderly man hastily sat up and dropped his magazine when he saw the
armed intruder, his eyes as wide open as his mouth.


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