k?" Frenchy grinned and some time later raked
in his third. Salvation then staked his last cent against Hopalong's
flush and dropped out.

Tenspot flipped to Waffles the money he had been juggling and Lefty
searched his clothes for wealth. Buck, still leaning against the bar,
grinned and winked at Johnny, who was pouring hair-raising tales into
the receptive ears of the stranger. Thereupon Johnny confided to his
newly found acquaintance the facts about the game, nearly causing that
person to explode with delight.

Waffles pushed back his chair, stood up and stretched. At the finish
of a yawn he grinned at his late adversary. "I'm all in, yu old
son-of-a-gun. Yu shore can play draw. I'm goin' to try yu again some
time. I was beat fair an' square an' I ain't got no kick comin', none
whatever," he remarked, as he shook hands with Hopalong.

"Oh, we're that gang from th' O-Bar-O," hummed the Kid as he sauntered
in. One cheek was slightly swollen and his clothes shed dust at every
step. "Who wins?" he inquired, not having heard Waffles.

"They did, blast it!" exploded Bigfoot.

One of the Kid's peculiarities was revealed in the unreasoning and
hasty conclusions he arrived at. From no desire to imply unfairness,
but rather because of his bitterness against failure of any kind and his
loyalty to Waffles, came his next words:

"Mebby they skinned yu."

Like a flash Waffles sprang before him, his hand held up, palm out. "He
don't mean nothin'--he's only a ignorant kid!" he cried.

Buck smiled and wrested the Colt from Johnny's ever-ready hand. "Here's
another," he said. Red laughed softly and rolled Johnny on the floor.
"Yu jackass," he whispered, "don't yu know better'n to make a gun-play
when we needs them all?"

"What are we goin' to do?" Asked Tex, glancing at the bulging pockets of
Hopalong's chaps.

"We're goin' to punch cows again, that's what we're to do," answered
Bigfoot dismally.

"An' whose are we goin' to punch? We can't go back to the old man,"
grumbled Tex.

Salvation looked askance at Buck and then at the others. "Mebby," he
began, "Mebby we kin git a job on th' Bar-20." Then turning to Buck
again he bluntly asked, "Are yu short of punchers?"

"Well, I might use some," answered the foreman, hesitating. "But
I ain't got only one cook, an'----"

"We'll git yu th' cook all O.K.," interrupted Charley Lane vehemently.
"Hi, yu cook!" he shouted, "amble in here an' git a rustle on!"

There was no re