mused Johnny,
sullenly. He hated them by training as much as he hated horse-thieves
and sheep; and his companions had been brought up in the same school.
Barb wire, the death-knell to the old-time punching, the bar to riding
at will, a steel insult to fire the blood--it had come at last.

"We've shore got to cut it, Red,--" began Hopalong, but the cook had to
rid himself of some of his indignation and interrupted with heat.

"Shore we have!" came explosively from the tail board of the chuck
wagon. "Got to lay it agin my li'l axe an' swat it with my big ol'
monkey wrench! An' won't them posts save me a lot of trouble hunting
chips an' firewood!"

"We've shore got to cut it, Red," Hopalong repeated slowly. "You an'
Johnny an' me'll ride ahead after we cross the creek to-morrow an' do
it. I don't hanker after no fight with all these cows on my han's, but
we've got to risk one."

"Shore!" cried Johnny, hotly. "I can't get over the gall of them fellers
closing up the West Valley drive trail. Why, I never heard tell of such
a thing afore!"

"We're short-handed; we ought to have more'n we have to guard the
herd if there's a fight. If it stampedes--oh, well, that'll work out
to-morrow. The creek's only about twelve miles away an' we'll start at
daylight, so tumble in," Hopalong said as he arose. "Red, I'm going out
to take my shift--I'll send Pete in. Stranger," he added, turning, "I'm
much obliged to you for the warning. They might 'a' caught us with our
hands tied."

"Oh, that's all right," hastily replied the stranger, who was in hearty
accord with the plans, such as they were. "My name's Hawkins, an' I
don't like range fences no more'n you do. I used to hunt buffalo all
over this part of the country before they was all killed off, an' I
allus rode where I pleased. I'm purty old, but I can still see an'
shoot; an' I'm going to stick right along with you fellers an' see it
through. Every man counts in this game."

"Well, that's blamed white of you," Hopalong replied, greatly pleased by
the other's offer. "But I can't let you do it. I don't want to drag you
into no trouble, an'--"

"You ain't dragging me none; I'm doing it myself. I'm about as mad as
you are over it. I ain't good for much no more, an' if I shuffles off
fighting barb wire I'll be doing my duty. First it was nesters, then
railroads an' more nesters, then sheep, an' now it's wire--won't it
never stop? By the Lord, it's got to stop, or this country will