“That so?” asked Hopalong.

“Reckon it is.”

“Yo’re real shore it is?”

“Well there’s only six of us here, but there’s six more that we can get blamed quick if we need ’em.  It’s so, all right.”

“Well, coming down to figures, there’s eight here, with two hoss-wranglers an’ a cook to come,” retorted Hopalong, kicking the belligerent Johnny on the shins.  “We’re just about mad enough to tackle anything:  ever feel that way?”

“Oh, no use getting all het up,” rejoined Cranky Joe.  “We ain’t a-going to fight ’less we has to.  Better pay up.”

“Send yore bills to the ranch—­if they’re O. K., Buck’ll pay ’em.”

“Nix; I take it when I can get it.”

“I ain’t got no money with me that I can spare.”

“Then you can leave enough cows to buy back again.”

“I’m not going to pay you one damned cent, an’ the only cows I’ll leave are the dead ones—­an’ if I could take them with me I’d do it.  An’ I’m not going around the fence, neither.”

“Oh, yes; you are.  An’ yo’re going to pay,” snapped Cranky Joe.

“Take it out of the price of two hundred dead cows an’ gimme what’s left,” Hopalong retorted.  “It’ll cost you nine of them twelve men to pry it out’n me.”

“You won’t pay?” demanded the other, coldly.

“Not a plugged peso.”

“Well, as I said before, I don’t want to fight nobody ’less I has to,” replied Cranky Joe.  “I’ll give you a chance to change yore mind.  We’ll be out here after it to-morrow, cash or cows.  That’ll give you twenty-four hours to rest yore herd an’ get ready to drive.  Then you pay, an’ go back, ’round the fence.”

“All right; to-morrow suits me,” responded Hopalong, who was boiling with rage and felt constrained to hold it back.  If it wasn’t for the cows—!

Red and three companions swept up and stopped in a swirl of dust and asked questions until Hopalong shut them up.  Their arrival and the manner of their speech riled Cranky Joe, who turned around and loosed one more remark; and he never knew how near to death he was at that moment.

“You fellers must own the earth, the way you act,” he said to Red and his three companions.

“We ain’t fencing it in to prove it,” rejoined Hopalong, his hand on Red’s arm.

Cranky Joe wheeled to rejoin his friends.  “To-morrow,” he said, significantly.

Hopalong and his men watched the six ride away, too enraged to speak for a moment.  Then the drive foreman mastered himself and turned to Hawkins.  “Where’s their ranch house?” he demanded, sharply.  “There must be some way out of this, an’ we’ve got to find it; an’ before to-morrow.”

“West; three hours’ ride along the fence.  I could find ’em the darkest night what ever happened; I was out there once,” Hawkins replied.