"We're the fools, Kid; not you. There's something crooked going on in
that canyon, an' I know it! But keep mum about what we think."

Johnny lost his grouch so suddenly and beamed upon his friends with such
a superior air that they began to worry about what was in the wind.
The suspense wore on them, for with Hopalong's assistance, Johnny might
spring some game on them all that would more than pay up for the fun
they had enjoyed at his expense; and the longer the suspense lasted the
worse it became. They never lost sight of him while he was around and
Hopalong had to endure the same surveillance; and it was no uncommon
thing to see small groups of the anxious men engaged in deep discussion.
When they found that Buck must have been told and noticed his smile was
as fixed as Hopalong's or Johnny's, they were certain that trouble of
some nature was in store for them.

Several weeks later Buck Peters drew rein and waited for a stranger to
join him.

"Howdy. Is yore name Peters?" asked the newcomer, sizing him up in one
trained glance.

"Well, who are you, an' what do you want?"

"I want to see Peters, Buck Peters. That yore name?"

"Yes; what of it?"

"My name's Fox. Old Jim Lane gave me a message for you," and the
stranger spoke earnestly to some length. "There; that's the situation.