"That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year. I'll hunt him
up. I heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his
brothers are lookin' for trouble," offered Pie.

"Yah! They ain't lookin' for no trouble-they just goes around
blowin' off. Trouble? Why, they don't know what she is," remarked Red
contemptuously.

"Well, they's been dodgin' th' sheriff purty lively lately, an' if
that ain't trouble I don't know what is," said Pie.

"It shore is, an' hard to dodge," acquiesced Buck.

"Well, I has to amble. Is Panhandle in Denver? Yes? I calculates as
how me an' him'll buck th' tiger for a whirl-he's shore lucky. Well,
so long," said Pie as he moved on.

"So long," responded the two.

"Hey, wait a minute," yelled Pie after he had ridden a hundred
yards. "If yu sees Hopalong yu might tell him that th' Joneses are
goin' to hunt him up when they gits to Albuquerque. They's shore sore
on him. `Tain't none of my funeral, only they ain't always a-carin'
how they goes after a feller. So long," and soon he was a cloud of
dust on the horizon.

"Trouble!" snorted Red; "well, between dodgin' Harris an' huntin'
Hopalong I reckons they'll shore find her. "Then to himself he
murmured, "Funny how everythin' comes his way."