help me up and come with me-they'll tear you to pieces."

"Shore I'll help yu up-I ain't got no grudge against nobody. But my
friends know where I am an' they'll come down here an' raise a ruction
if I don't show up. So, if it's all th' same to you, I'll be ambling
right along," he said as he helped the sheriff to his feet.

"Have you any objections to telling me your name?" Asked the sheriff
as he looked himself over.

"None whatever," answered Hopalong heartily. "I'm Hopalong Cassidy
of th' Bar 20, Texas."

"You don't surprise me-I've heard of you," replied the sheriff
wearily. "You are the man who killed Tamale Jose, whom I hunted for
unceasingly. I found him when you had left and I got the reward. Come
again some time and I'll divide with you; two hundred and fifty
dollars," he added craftily.

"I shore will, but I don't want no money," replied Hopalong as he
turned away. "Adios, senor," he called back.

"Adios," replied the sheriff as he kicked a nearby door for
assistance.

The cow-pony tied itself up in knots as it pounded down the street
toward the trail, and although he was fired on he swung into the dusty
trail with a song on his lips. Several hours later he stood dripping
wet on the American side of the Rio Grande and shouted advice to a
score of Mexican cavalrymen on the opposite bank. Then he slowly