"One of you has got to ride to Red an' tell him. He mustn't get caught unexpected," Hopalong remarked.
"What do you call?" asked Johnny, flipping a coin and catching it when it came down.
"All right, that's fair enough. Heads," Lanky replied.
"Whoop! It's tails!" cried Johnny, wheeling. "I'm going for Red," and he was gone before Lanky had time to object.
"Blasted Kid!" Lanky snorted. "How'd I know it was tails?"
"That's yore lookout," laughed Hopalong. "You ought to know him by this time. It's yore own fault."
"I'll tan his hide some of these fine days," Lanky promised. "He's too fresh," and he galloped off to cover the thirty miles between him and the bunk house in the least possible time so as to return as soon as he could.
CHAPTER VI
MEEKER IS TOLD