"No; not a bit."
"I'm glad of that," he laughed, leaning forward. "You had me plumb scared to death."
"I didn't know I could scare a puncher so easy, 'specially you," she replied, flushing. "But where's yore sombrero?"
"Back where I throwed it," he grinned.
"Where you threw it?"
"Shore. I got sore when you rode away, an' didn't care much what happened," he replied, coolly. Then he transfixed the Mexican with his keen eyes. "If yo're so anxious to get that gun out, say so or do it," he said, slowly. "That's th' second time."
Mary watched them breathlessly, but Hopalong didn't intend to have any fighting in her presence.
"You let it alone before I take it away from you," he said. "An' I reckon you better pull out—you ain't needed around here. Go on, flit!"
Antonio glanced at Mary for orders and she nodded her head. "I don't need you; go."
Hopalong watched him depart and turned to his companion. "What's eating him, anyhow?"