, nohow," replied Hopalong, with strong
conviction. "Mine was a _hoss_."

"You stole that cayuse last night outen Stevenson's corral," continued
Charley, merely as a matter of form. Charley believed that a man had the
right to be heard before he died--it wouldn't change the result and so
could not do any harm.

"Did I? Why--" his forehead became furrowed again, but the events of
the night before were vague in his memory and he only stumbled in
his soliloquy. "But _I_ wouldn't swap my cayuse for that spavined,
saddle-galled, ring-boned bone-yard! Why, it interferes, an' it's got
the heaves something awful!" he finished triumphantly, as if an appeal
to common sense would clinch things. But he made no headway against
them, for the rope went around his neck almost before he had finished
talking and a flurry of excitement ensued. When the dust settled he was
on his back again and the rope was being tossed over the limb.

The crowd had been too busily occupied to notice anything away from the
scene of their strife and were greatly surprised when they heard a hail
and saw a stranger sliding to a stand not twenty feet from them. "What's
this?" demanded the newcomer, angrily.

Charley's gun glinted as it swung up and the stranger swore again. "What
you doing?" he shouted. "Take that gun off'n me or I'll blow you apart!"

"Mind yore business an' sit still!" Charley snapped. "You ain't in no
position to blow anything apart. We've got a hoss-thief an' we're shore
going to hang him regardless."

"An' if there's any trouble about it we can hang two as well as we can
one," suggested Stevenson, placidly. "You sit tight an' mind yore own
affairs, stranger," he warned.

Hopalong turned his head slowly. "He's a liar, stranger; just a plain,
squaw's dog of a liar. An' I'll be much obliged if you'll lick hell
outen 'em an' let--_why, hullo, hoss-thief_!" he shouted, at once
recognizing the other. It was the man he had met in the gospel tent, the
man he had chased for a horse-thief and then swapped mounts with. "Stole
any more cayuses?" he asked, grinning, believing that everything was all
right now. "Did you take that cayuse back to Grant?" he finished.

"Han's up!" roared Stevenson, also covering the stranger. "So yo're
another one of 'em, hey? We're in luck to-day. Watch him, boys, till I
get his gun. If he moves, drop him quick."

"You damned fool!" cried Ferris, white with rage. "He ain't no thief,
an' neither am I! My name's