"That ain't a herd!" cried Johnny, elated. "That's only a handful. It's a scrawny looking bunch, men an' all. Come on, you coyotes!" he yelled, waving his rifle.
"You chump; this ain't the real play—it's a blind, a wedge," Red replied. "They're pushing a big one through somewhere else."
"I'm shore glad Billy went, an' not me," Johnny remarked.
"There's Morgan," Red remarked. "I know his riding."
"Bet you won't know it when th' show's over. An' there's Chick, too. He needs a licking. You won't know his riding, neither."
The herd came rapidly forward and the men who were guarding it waved their sombreros and urged it on. Red, knowing that he would be crowded if he waited until the cows were upon him, threw his rifle to his shoulder and began to shoot rapidly, and cow after cow dropped, and the rush was stopped. Before the H2 men could get free from the panic-stricken herd Red and Johnny were within a hundred yards of them and when they looked up it was to see Red covering them, while Johnny, pleased by the reduced range, was dropping more cows.
"Stop!" Red shouted, angrily.
"Huh!" exclaimed Johnny, looking up. "Oh, I thought you was talking to me," he muttered, and then dropped another cow.
"What in h—l do you think yo're doing?" yelled Morgan.
"Just practising," retorted Johnny. He quickly swung his rifle on Chick. "Hands up! No more of that!"