Although the evangelist had adopted the wrong method he had gained
more than he knew and Hopalong had something to take home with him and
wrestle out for himself in spare moments; that is, he would have had
but for one thing: As he slowly looked around for his horse he came to
himself with a sharp jerk, and hot profanity routed the germ of religion
incubating in his soul. His horse was missing! Here was a pretty mess,
he thought savagely; and then his expression of anger and perplexity
gave way to a flickering grin as the probable solution came to his mind.

"By the Lord, I never saw such a bunch to play jokes," he laughed.
"Won't they never grow up? They was watching me when I went inside an'
sneaked up and rustled my cayuse. Well, I'll get back again without much
trouble, all right. They ought to know me better by this time."

"Hey, stranger!" he called to a man who was riding past, "have you seen
anything of a skinny roan cayuse fifteen han's high, white stocking on
the near foreleg, an' a bandage on the off fetlock, Bar-20 being the
brand?"

The stranger, knowing the grinning inquisitor by sight, suspected that
a joke was being played: he also knew Dave Wilkes and that gentleman's
friends. He chuckled and determined to help it along a little. "Shore
did, pardner; saw a man leading him real cautious. Was he yourn?"

"Oh, no; not at all. He belonged to my great-great-grandfather, who left
him to my second cousin. You see, I borrowed it," he grinned, making his
way leisurely towards the general store, kept by his friend Dave, the
joker. "Funny how everybody likes a joke," he muttered, opening the door
of the store. "Hey, Dave," he called.