HIRAM TAKES THE TRAIL
Hiram Hooker stood motionless in the alley back of Lucy Dalles' cabin and listened intently through the knothole.
"Well," he heard Al Drummond saying to Lucy, "I see they got in again this evening."
Hiram supposed "they" referred to the freighting outfit of Jerkline Jo.
"Yes," replied Lucy, "and here it is late January, Al, and we've accomplished nothing."
"No, nothing," Drummond admitted gloomily. "And our chances look mighty slim to get at her. Every trip she's got those five husky skinners with her, and I guess every one of them is fool enough to put up a scrap for her if he knew he'd get croaked in the deal."
"We must think up another plan to separate her from them," the girl suggested.
"Confound it!" muttered Drummond. "Everything was moving along smoothly, and the next minute we'd have had the razor working; then here comes that big boob and takes us by surprise. Lord, how he swung those clubs!"
"You're afraid of him, since he beat you up on the desert," Lucy said tauntingly.
"Huh! I'll get him yet! I'm willing to admit he's too many for me in a stand-up and knock-down fight. He's a whirlwind—I never saw his like. Why, up there in the mountains he seemed to have a dozen arms, all working at once. Wild Cat is right! But I haven't been raised on salt pork and corn bread. I've lived. Just the same, when I get good and ready I'll fix his engine for him."