ast prisoner. "That's right,
Nelson; you've got it on 'em this time. Make 'em chew it."

CHAPTER VI

HOPALONG LOSES A HORSE

For a month after their return from the San Miguel, Hopalong and his
companions worked with renewed zest, and told and retold the other
members of the outfit of their unusual experiences near the Mexican
border. Word had come up to them that Martin had secured the conviction
of the smugglers and was in line for immediate advancement. No one on
the range had the heart to meet Johnny Nelson, for Johnny carried with
him a piece of the ghost, and became pugnacious if his once-jeering
friends and acquaintances refused to nibble on it. Cowan still sold his
remarkable drink, but he had yielded to Johnny's persuasive methods and
now called it "Nelson's Pet."

One bright day the outfit started rounding up a small herd of
three-year-olds, which Buck had sold, and by the end of the week the
herd was complete and ready for the drive. This took two weeks and when
Hopalong led his drive outfit through Hoyt's Corners on its homeward
journey he felt the pull of the town of Grant, some miles distant, and
it was too strong to be resisted. Flinging a word of explanation to the
nearest puncher, he turned to lope away, when Red's voice checked him.
Red wanted to delay his home-coming for a day or two and attend to a
purely personal matter at a ranch lying to the west. Hopalong, knowing
the reason for Red's wish, grinned and told him to go, and not to
propose until he had thought the matter over very carefully. Red's reply
was characteristic, and after arranging a rendezvous and naming the
time, the two separated and rode toward their destinations, while the
rest of the outfit kept on towards their ranch.

"A man owes something to _all_ his friends," Hopalong mused. In this
case he owed a return game of draw poker to certain of Grant's leading
citizens, and he liked to pay his obligations when opportunity offered.

It was mid-afternoon when he topped a rise and saw below him the handful
of shacks making up the town. A look of pleased interest flickered
across his face as he noticed a patched and dirty tent pitched close up
to the nearest shack. "Show!" he exclaimed. "Now, ain't that luck!
I'll shore take it in. If it's a circus, mebby it has a trick mule to
ride--I'll never forget that one up in Kansas City," he grinned. But
almost instantly a doubt arose and tempered the grin. "Huh! Mebby it's
the branding