The balls of smoke which rolled upward were replied to by other balls at different points on the plain, and the Bar-20 prepared to feed the numbers of hungry punchers who would arrive within the next twenty-four hours.
Two hours had not passed when eleven men rode up from the Three Triangle, followed eight hours later by ten from the O-Bar-O. The outfits of the Star Circle and the Barred Horseshoe, eighteen in all, came next and had scarcely dismounted when those of the C-80 and the Double Arrow, fretting at the delay, rode up. With the sixteen from the Bar-20 the force numbered seventy-five resolute and pugnacious cowpunchers, all aching to wipe out the indignities suffered.
CHAPTER XX. A Problem Solved
Hopalong worried his way out of the desert on a straight line, thus cutting in half the distance he had traveled when going into it. He camped that night on the sand and early the next morning took up his journey. It was noon when he began to notice familiar sights, and an hour later he passed within a mile of line-house No. 3, Double Arrow. Half an hour later he espied a cow-puncher riding like mad. Thinking that an investigation would not be out of place, he rode after the rider and overtook him, when that person paused and retraced his course.
“Hullo, Hopalong!” shouted the puncher and he came near enough to recognize his pursuer. “Thought yu was farmin' up on th' Staked Plain?”
“Hullo, Pie,” replied Hopalong, recognizing Pie Willis. “What was yu chasin' so hard?”
“Coyote—damn 'em, but can't they go some? They're gettin' so thick we'll shore have to try strichnine an' thin 'em out.”
“I thought anybody that had been raised in th' Panhandle would know better'n to chase greased lightnin',” rebuked Hopalong. “Yu has got about as much show catchin' one of them as a tenderfoot has of bustin' an outlawed cayuse.”
“Shore; I know it,” responded Pie, grinning. “But it's fun seem' them hunt th' horizon. What are yu doin' down here an' where are yore pardners?”