Clarence E. Mulford

“ The rear door opened slightly and one of the loungers looked up and nodded: “It's all right, Jerry. But lively!”
“Here, you!” called Harlan, bending over the trap door. “Lively!”
Jerry was half way to the proprietor when the front door swung open and Hopalong, closely followed by the marshal, leaped into the room, and immediately afterward the back door banged open and Johnny entered. Jerry's right hand was in his side coat pocket and Johnny, young and self-confident, and with a lot to learn, was certain that he could beat the fugitive on the draw. ”

“ The card players had leaped to their feet and at a signal from Harlan surged forward to the bar and formed a barrier between Johnny and his friends, and as they did so, that puncher jerked at his gun, half facing the crowd. Then it was that fire and smoke spurted from Jerry's coat pocket and the odor of burning cloth arose. ”

“ As Hopalong reached his side a piece of driftwood ducked under the water and an angry humming sound died away down stream.
“He's some shaky,” Hopalong remarked, looking back. “I must a hit him harder than I thought in Harlan's.”
“I was trying to rope that rock over there,” Red replied, coiling the rope. “If I could anchor to that th' current would push me over. But it's too far.”
“We can't do nothing here 'cept get plugged,” Hopalong replied. And then, suddenly, “Say! Remember that meadow back a piece? We can make it there.”
“That's what we got to do. He's sending 'em nearer every shot. ”

“ One bleak and blustering night of late spring, when the air had an unusual, penetrating chill for that latitude, most of the regular habitués had assembled at Harlan's, where, besides the card players already mentioned, eight men lounged against the bar. ”

“ Hopalong Cassidy told his friend and companion, and then walked forward, scrutinizing each scowling face in turn, while Johnny Nelson stood with his back to the front wall, keenly alert, his hand resting lightly on his belt.
Harlan's thick neck grew crimson and his eyes hard: “Looking for somethin'?” he asked with bitter sarcasm, his hands under the bar. Johnny grinned.
“Yes,” replied Hopalong coolly, “but it ain't here. Johnny, get out,” he ordered, backing after his companion and, safely outside, the two walked to Jackson's store, where they met the marshal. ”

“ The peculiar, not unpleasant odor of burning incense and the dim light awakened a latent reverence and awe in Hopalong, and he removed his sombrero, an inexplicable feeling of guilt stealing over him.
Red was peering into the dark corners, his hand on the butt of his heavy Colt. “This joint must a looked plumb good to that coyote, all right. He had a h—l of a lot of luck, but he won't keep it long,” he remarked.
“Quit cussing!” ordered Hopalong, “an' for God's sake put out that d—d cigarette! Ain't you got no sense?” ”

“ Hopalong replied. “You'll come 'round if you keep quiet.” He arose, his face hard. “I'm coming back for you, Harlan, after I get yore friend! An' all th' rest of you pups, too!”
““Get me outen here,” whispered Johnny.
“Shore enough, but keep quiet,” replied Hopalong, picking him up in his arms and going toward the door. “We'll get him, Johnny; an' all th' rest, too, when—” the voice died out in the direction of Jackson's and the marshal, backing to the front door, slipped out and to one side, running backwards, his eyes on the saloon. “Yore day's about over, Harlan,” he muttered. ”