crawled behind them they each had another wound. From their new
position they could see Hopalong sitting in his window. He promptly
waved his sombrero and grinned.

They were the most experienced fighters of all except Buck, and were
saving their shots. When they did shoot they always had some portion
of a man's body to aim at, and the damage they inflicted was
considerable. They said nothing, being older than the rest and more
taciturn, and they were not reckless. Although Hopalong's antics made
them laugh, they grumbled at his recklessness and were not tempted to
emulate him. It was noticeable, too, that they shoved their rifles out
simultaneously and, although both were aiming, only one fired. Lanky's
gun cracked so close to the enemy's that the whirr of the bullet over
Red's head was merged in the crack of his partner's reply.

When Hopalong saw the rocks roll out from behind the store he grew
very curious. Then he saw a flash, followed instantly by another from
the second rifle. He saw several of these follow shots and could sit
in silence no longer. He waved his hat to attract attention and then
shouted, "How many?" A shot was sent straight up in the air and he
notified Buck that there were only four left.

The fire of these four grew less rapid-they were saving their
ammunition. A pot shot at Hopalong sent that gentleman's rifle
hurtling to the ground. Another tore through his hat, removing a neat
amount of skin and hair and giving him a lifelong part. He fell back
inside and proceeded to shoot fast and straight with his revolvers,
his head burning as though on fire. When he had vented the dangerous
pressure of his anger he went below and tried to fish the rifle in
with a long stick. It was obdurate, so he sent three more shots into