chute of some gospel sharp." As he drew near he focussed
his eyes on the canvas and found that his fears were justified.

"All Are Welcome," he spelled out slowly. "Shore they are!" he muttered.
"I never nowhere saw such hard-working, all-embracing rustlers as them
fellers. They'll stick their iron on anything from a wobbly calf or
dying dogie to a staggering-with-age mosshead, an' shout 'tally one'
with the same joy. Well, not for mine, _this_ trip. I'm going to graze
loose an' buck-jump all I wants. Anyhow, if I did let him brand me I'd
only backslide in a week," and Hopalong pressed his pony to a more rapid
gait as two men emerged from the tent. "There's the sky-pilot now," he
muttered--"an' there's Dave!" he shouted, waving his arm. "Oh, Dave!
Dave!"

Dave Wilkes looked up, and his grin of delight threatened to engulf
his ears. "Hullo, Cassidy! Glad to see you! Keep right on for the
store--I'll be with you in a minute." When David told his companion the
visitor's name the evangelist held up his hand eloquently and spoke.

"I know all about him!" he exclaimed sorrowfully. "If I can lead him out
of his wickedness I will rest content though I save no more souls this
fortnight. Is it all true?"

"Huh! What true?"

"All that I have heard about him."

"Well, I dunno what you've heard," replied Dave, with grave caution,
"but I reckon it might be if it didn't cover lying, stealing, cowardice,
an' such coyote traits. He's shore a holy terror with a short gun, all
right, but lemme tell you something mebby you _ain't_ heard: There ain't
a square man in this part of the country that won't feel some honored
an' proud to be called a friend of Hopalong Cassidy. Them's the
sentiments rampaging hereabouts. I ain't denying that he's gone an'
killed off a lot of men first an' last--but the only trouble there is
that he didn't get 'em soon enough. They all had lived too blamed long
when they went an' stacked up agin him an' that lightning short gun of
hissn. But, say, if yo're calculating to tackle him at yore game, lead
him gentle--don't push none. He comes to life real sudden when he's
shoved. So long; see you later, mebby."

The revivalist looked after him and mused, "I hope I was informed wrong,
but this much I have to be thankful for: The wickedness of most of these
men, these over-grown children, is manly, stalwart, and open; few of
them are vicious or contemptible. Their one great curse is drink."

When Hopalong entered