"You just dare try it! Just dare!" she cried, hotly.
"Now you have gone an' done it, for I never take a dare, never," he laughed. "It's us for th' sky pilot, an' then th' same range for life. Yo're shore purty, an' that fighting spunk doubles it. You can begin to practise calling yourself Mrs. Hopalong Cassidy, of th' Bar-20."
Pete fired, swore, and turned his head. "How th' devil can I hit a house with all that fool talk!" and the two, suddenly realizing that Pete had been ordered to remain close by, looked foolish, and both laughed.
"It gets on my nerves," Pete growled, and then: "Here comes Johnny like a greased coyote."
They looked and saw Johnny tearing down Stepping Stone Hill as if he were afraid that the fighting would be over before he could take a hand in it. When he came within hailing distance he stood up in his stirrups, shouting, "What's up?" and then, seeing Pete, understood. Leaping from the saddle he jerked his rifle out of the sheath and ran to him, jeering. "Oh, you Pete! Oh you d——d fool!"
"Hey, Johnny! How's things east?" Hopalong demanded.
Johnny stopped and hastily recounted how he and Red had driven back the herd, adding: "Her dad is out there now looking at his dead cows—I saw him when I came back from East Arroyo. An' I saw them three punchers ride over that ridge down south; and they shore made good time. Say, how did they get Pete out?" he asked eagerly.
"I'll tell you that later—Pete, you go an' tell Red to come here, an' take his place. We can't swap Mary for th' house, but we can swap her dad! Mary, you better go home—this won't be no place for you in a little while. Where's yore cayuse?" he asked, looking around.
"It's down there—he shot it," she replied, nodding at Pete.
"Shot it? Lord, but he must 'a been mad! Well, you can get square—Pete, where's yore cayuse?"