things on yu that'd make yu stand treat for a year."

"I wouldn't sneak off to Santa Fe an' cheat yu out of them. Yu ought to
be ashamed of yoreself."

"Yah!" snorted the aggrieved little man. "I had business over to Santa
Fe!"

"Shore," endorsed Hopalong. "We've all had business over to Santa Fe.
Why, about eight years ago I had business--"

"Choke up," interposed Red. "About eight years ago yu was washin' pans
for cookie, an' askin' me for cartridges. Buck used to larrup yu about
four times a day eight years ago."

To their roars of laughter Hopalong dropped to the rear, where,
red-faced and quiet, he bent his thoughts on how to get square.

"We'll have a pleasant time corralling that gang," began Billy for the
third time.

"For heaven's sake get off that trail!" replied Lanky. "We aint goin' to
hold 'em up. De-plomacy's th' game."

Billy looked dubious and said nothing. If he hadn't proven that he was
as nervy as any man in the outfit they might have taken more stock in
his grumbling.

"What's the latest from Abilene way?" Asked Buck of Frenchy.

"Nothin' much 'cept th' barb-wire ruction," replied the recruit.

"What's that?" Asked Red, glancing apprehensively back at Hopalong.

"Why, th' settlers put up barb-wire fence so's the cattle wouldn't get
on their farms. That would a been all right, for there wasn't much of
it. But some Britishers who own a couple of big ranches out there got
smart all of a sudden an' strung wire all along their lines. Punchers
crossin' th' country would run plumb into a fence an' would have to ride
a day an' a half, mebbe, afore they found th' corner. Well, naturally,
when a man has been used to ridin' where he blame pleases an' as
straight as he pleases he ain't goin' to chase along a five-foot fence
to Trisco when he wants to get to Waco. So th' punchers got to totin'
wire-snips, an' when they runs up agin a fence they cuts down half a
mile or so. Sometimes they'd tie their ropes to a strand an' pull off a
couple of miles an' then go back after th' rest. Th' ranch bosses sent
out men to watch th' fences an' told 'em to shoot any festive puncher
that monkeyed with th' hardware. Well, yu know what happens when a
puncher gets shot at."

"When fences grow in Texas there'll be th' devil to pay," said Buck. He
hated to think that some day the freedom of the range would be annulled,
for he knew that it would be the first blow against the cowboys'
occupation. When a man's cattle