“That's right! Make a fool out of yoreself first thing!” snapped one of the pair on the ground.
“Billy, I never loved you as much as I do this minute,” grinned Johnny wearily. “Wish you'd 'a' come along to show us how to do it an hour ago.”
“I would, only—”
“Quit chinning an' get busy,” remarked Red, climbing down. “The chute's full; an' it's all yourn.”
Billy caught the iron, gave it a preliminary flourish, and started to work with a speed that would not endure for long. He branded five out of the eight and jeered at his companion for being so slow.
“Have yore fun now, Billy,” Pete replied with placid good nature. “Before we're through with this job you'll be lucky if you can do two of the string, if you keep up that pace.”
“He'll be missing every other one,” growled his heater with overflowing malice. “That iron ain't cold, you Chinaman!”
“Too cold for me—don't miss none,” chuckled Billy sweetly. “Fill the chute! Fill the chute! Don't keep us waiting!” he cried to the guiders, hopping around with feigned eagerness and impatience.
Hopalong Cassidy rode up and stopped as Red returned to take the place of one of the iron heaters. “How they coming, Red?” he inquired.
“Fast. You can sic that inspector on 'em the first thing to-morrow morning, if he gets here on time. Bet he's off som'ers getting full of redeye. Who're going with you on this drive?”