"Good idea—shoot 'em with their own lead," and the H2 foreman departed on his hands and knees for the weapon.
"I hit one—he's trying to put his shoulder together," cried Red, grinning. "What makes you so late—I was th' last one up, an' I've been here a couple of hours."
"Yo're a sinful liar!" retorted Hopalong. "We stopped to pick blackberries back at that farm house," he finished with withering sarcasm.
"You fellers had time to get married an' raise a family," Red replied. He ducked and looked around. "Ah, you coyote—hit him, but not very hard, I reckon."
It was daylight when Pete, on the other end of the line, turned and scourged Johnny. "Ain't you got no sense in yore fool head? How can I see to shoot when you kick around like that an' fill my eyes with dirt! Come down from up there or I'll lick you!"
"Ah, shut up!" retorted Johnny with a curse. "You'd kick around if somebody nicked yore ear!"
"Well, it serves you right for being so unholy curious!" Pete replied. "You come down before he nicks yore eye!"
"Not before I get square—Wow!" and Johnny came down rapidly.
"Where'd he get you that time?"
"None of yore business!" growled Johnny.