at way an' we had a little disagreement about it. They
said as how they was going to patrol it."

"Fence! What fence?" exclaimed Red.

"Where's there any fence?" demanded Hopalong sharply.

"Twenty mile north of the creek," replied the stranger, carefully
packing his pipe.

"What? Twenty miles north of the creek?" cried Hopalong. "What creek?"

"Bennett's. The 4X has strung three strands of barb wire from Coyote
Pass to the North Arm. Thirty mile long, without a gate, so they says."

"But it don't close this trail!" cried Hopalong in blank astonishment.

"It shore does. They say they owns that range an' can fence it in all
they wants. I told 'em different, but naturally they didn't listen to
me. An' they'll fight about it, too."

"But they _can't_ shut off this trail!" exclaimed Billy, with angry
emphasis. "They don't own it no more'n we do!"

"I know all about that--you heard me tell you what they said."

"But how can we get past it?" demanded Hopalong.

"Around it, over the hills. You'll lose about three days doing it, too."

"I can't take no sand-range herd over them rocks, an' I ain't going to
drive 'round no North Arm or Coyote Pass if I could," Hopalong replied
with quiet emphasis. "There's poison springs on the east an' nothing but
rocks on the west. We go straight through."

"I'm afraid that you'll have to fight if you do," remarked the stranger.

"Then we'll fight!" cried Johnny, leaning forward. "Blasted coyotes!
What right have they got to block a drive trail that's as old as
cattle-raising in these parts! That trail was here before I was born,
it's allus been open, an' it's going to stay open! You watch us go
through!"

"Yo're dead right, Kid; we'll cut that fence an' stick to this trail,
an' fight if we has to," endorsed Red. "The Bar-20 ain't crawling out of
no hole that it can walk out of. They're bluffing; that's all."

"I don't think they are; an' there's twelve men in that outfit,"
suggested the stranger, offhand.

"We ain't got time to count odds; we never do down our way when we know
we're right. An' we're right enough in this game," retorted Hopalong,
quickly. "For the last twelve days we've had good luck, barring the few
on this dry range; an' now we're in for the other kind. By the Lord,
I wish we was here without the cows to take care of--we'd show 'em
something about blocking drive trails that ain't in their little book!"

"Blast it all! Wire fences coming down this way now,"