“Nope. Reckon I'll hit th' tiger a whirl. I'll stop in when I passes.”
“All right. So long,” replied Hopalong, slipping out of the door and watching for trouble. There was no opposition shown him, and he arrived at his claim to find Jake in a heated argument with another of the gang.
“Here he comes now,” he said as Hopalong walked up. “Tell him what yu said to me.”
“I said yu made a mistake,” said the other, turning to the cowboy in a half apologetic manner.
“An' what else?” Insisted Jake.
“Why, ain't that all?” Asked the claim-jumper's friend in feigned surprise, wishing that he had kept quiet.
“Well I reckons it is if yu can't back up yore words,” responded Jake in open contempt.
Hopalong grabbed the intruder by the collar of his shirt and hauled him off the claim. “Yu keep off this, understand? I just kicked yore marshal out in th' street, an' I'll pay yu th' next call. If yu rambles in range of my guns yu'll shore get in th' way of a slug. Yu an' yore gang wants to browse on th' far side of th' range or yu'll miss a sunrise some mornin'. Scoot!”
Hopalong turned to his companion and smiled. “What'd he say?” He asked genially.
“Oh, he jest shot off his mouth a little. They's all no good. I've collided with lots of them all over this country. They can't face a good man an' keep their nerve. What'd yu say to th' marshal?”