and they paused in indecision. Then Frenchy turned toward his companion
and advised him to ride toward the Lake in the night when it was
comparatively cool.

Red considered and then decided that the advice was good. He rolled a
cigarette, wheeled and faced the east and spurred forward: "So long," he
called.

"So long," replied Frenchy, who turned toward the south and departed for
the ranch.

The foreman of the Bar-20 was cleaning his rifle when he heard the
hoof-beats of a galloping horse and he ran around the corner of the
house to meet the newcomer, whom he thought to be a courier from the
Double Arrow. Frenchy dismounted and explained why he returned alone.

Buck listened to the report and then, noting the fire which gleamed in
his friend's eyes, nodded his approval to the course. "I reckon it's
Trendley, Frenchy--I've heard a few things since yu left. An' yu can
bet that if Hopalong an' Red have gone for him he'll be found. I expect
action any time now, so we'll light th' signal fire." Then he hesitated;
"Yu light it--yu've been waiting a long time for this."

The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other balls
at different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to feed the
numbers of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next twenty-four
hours.

Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three
Triangle, followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O. The
outfits of the Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all,
came next and had scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the
Double Arrow, fretting at the delay, rode up. With the sixteen from
the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious
cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered.

CHAPTER XX. A Problem Solved

Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus
cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He
camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his
journey. It was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an
hour later he passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow.
Half an hour later he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad. Thinking
that an investigation would not be out of place, he rode after the rider
and overtook him, when that person paused and retraced his course.

"Hullo, Hopalong!" shouted the puncher and he came near enough to
recognize his pursuer. "Tho