way to the bunk house. "Yu can pull in yore belt, yu can drink, an yu
can eat. Yore getting as bad as Johnny - but he's young yet."

The others met their entrance with a volley of good-humored banter,
some of which was so personal and evoked such responses that it
sounded like the preliminary skirmish to a fight. But under all was
that soft accent, that drawl of humorous appreciation and eyes
twinkling in suppressed merriment. Here they were thoroughly at home
and the spirit of comradeship manifested itself in many subtle ways;
the wit became more daring and sharp, Billy lost some of his
pessimism, and the alertness disappeared from their manner.

Skinny left off romping with Red and yawned. "I wish that cook'ud
wake up an' git breakfast. He's the cussedest hombre I ever saw -he kin
go to sleep standin' up an' not know it. Johnny's th' boy that worries
him-th' kid comes in an' whoops things up till he's gorged himself."

"Johnny's got th' most appallin' feel for grub of anybody I knows,"
added Red. "I wonder what's keepin' him-he's usually hangin' around
here bawlin' for his grub like a spoiled calf, long afore cookie's got
th' fire goin'."

"Mebby he rustled some grub out with him-I saw him tip-toein' out of
th' gallery this mornin' when I come back for my cigs," remarked
Hopalong, glancing at Billy.

Billy groaned and made for the gallery. Emerging half a minute later
he blurted out his tale of woe: "Every time I blows myself an' don't
drink it all in town some slab-sided maverick freezes to it. It's
gone," he added, dismally.