ridden with his head bowed low in
meditation, looked up and slapped his thigh. Then he looked at Red and
grinned.

"Look ahere, Red," he began, "there ain't no rustlers with their
headquarters on this God-forsaken sand heap, an' there never was. They
have to have water an' lots of it, too, an' th' nearest of any account
is th' Pecos, or some of them streams over in th' Panhandle. Th'
Panhandle is th' best place. There are lots of streams an' lakes over
there an' they're right in a good grass country. Why, an' army could
hide over there an' never be found unless it was hunted for blamed good.
Then, again, it's close to the railroad. Up north aways is th' south
branch of th' Santa Fe Trail an' it's far enough away not to bother
anybody in th' middle Panhandle. Then there's Fort Worth purty near,
an' other trails. Didn't Buck say he had all th' rest of th' country
searched? He meant th' Pecos Valley an th' Davis Mountains country. All
th' rustlers would have to do if they were in th' Panhandle would be to
cross th' Canadian an th' Cimarron an' hit th' trail for th' railroad.
Good fords, good grass an' water all th' way, cattle fat when they
are delivered an plenty of room. Th' more I thinks about it th' more I
cottons to the Panhandle."

"Well, it shore does sound good," replied Red, reflectively.

"Do yu mean th' Cunningham Lake region or farther north?"

"Just th' other side of this blasted desert: anywhere where there's
water," responded Hopalong, enthusiastically. "I've been doin' some hot
reckonin' for th' last two hours an' this is th' way it looks to me:
they drives th' cows up on this skillet for a ways, then turns east an'
hits th' trail for home an' water. They can get around th' ca on near
Thatcher's Lake by a swing of th' north. I tell yu that's th' only way
out'n this. Who could tell where they turned with th' wind raisin' th'
deuce with the trail? Didn't we follow a trail for a ways, an' then
what? Why, there wasn't none to follow. We can ride north 'till we walk
behind ourselves an' never get a peek at them. I am in favor of headin'
for th' Sulphur Spring Creek district. We can spend a couple of weeks,
if we has to, an' prospect that whole region without havin' to cut
our' water down to a smell an' a taste an live on jerked beef. If we
investigates that country we'll find something else than sand storms,
poisoned water holes an' blisters."

"Ain't th' Panhandle full of nesters (farmers)?" Inquired Red,