"That's good. I 'm shore glad to hear it."
"Won't you wear this pin as a small token of my gratitude?" asked a voice at Skinny's shoulder.
He wheeled and raised his sombrero, a flush stealing over his face:
"Thank you, ma'am, but I don't want no pay. We was plumb glad to do it."
"But this is not pay! It's just a trifling token of my appreciation of your courage, just something to remind you of it. I shall feel hurt if you refuse."
Her quick fingers had pinned it to his shirt while she spoke and he thanked her as well as his embarrassment would permit. Then there was a rush toward him and, having visions of a shirt looking like a jeweler's window, he turned and fled from the car, crying: "Pin 'em on th' brakeman!"
He found the outfit working at a pile of rocks on the track, under the supervision of the conductor, and Hopalong looked up apprehensively at Skinny's approach.
"Lord!" he ejaculated, grinning sheepishly, "I was some scairt you was a woman."
Red dropped the rock he was carrying and laughed derisively.
"Oh, yo're a brave man, you are! scared to death by a purty female girl! If I 'd 'a' been you I would n't 'a' run, not a step!"