“Yu has? Yu better tell th' rest that, too,” replied Thirsty.
“I know yu shot Harris, an' yu can't get out of it by makin' funny remarks. Anyhow, yu won't be much loss, an' th' stage company'll feel better, too.”
“Shoo! An' suppose I did shoot him, I done a good job, didn't I?”
“Yu did the worst job yu could do, yu highway robber,” softly said Hopalong, at the same time moving nearer. “Harris knew yu stopped th' stage last month, an' that's why yu've been dodgin' him.”
“Yore a liar!” shouted Thirsty, reaching for his gun.
The movement was fatal, for before he could draw, the Colt in Hopalong's holster leaped out and flashed from its owner's hip and Thirsty fell sideways, face down in the dust of the street.
Hopalong started toward the fallen man, but as he did so a shot rang out from behind the store and he pitched forward, stumbled and rolled behind the bowlder. As he stumbled his left hand streaked to his hip, and when he fell he had a gun in each hand.
As he disappeared from sight Goodeye and Bill Jones stepped from behind the store and started to run away. Not able to resist the temptation to look again, they stopped and turned and Bill laughed.
“Easy as sin,” he said.
“Run, yu fool—Red an' Buck'll be here. Want to git plugged?” shouted Goodeye angrily.