O'Brien, Pinochle Schmidt, Tom Wilkins, Apache Gordon, Charley of
th' Bar Y, Penobscot Hughes an' about twenty others died fightin'."

Porous looked his astonishment: "Cavalry?"

"An' I'm going after th' dogs who did it," he continued, ignoring the
question. "Are yu with me?--Yu used to pal with some of them, didn't
yu?"

"We did, an' we're shore with yu!" cried Porous.

"Yore right," endorsed Silent. "But who done it?"

"That gang what's punchin' for th' Bar-20-Hopalong Cassidy is th' one
I'm pining for. Yu fellers can take care of Peters an' Connors."

The two stiffened and exchanged glances of uncertainty and apprehension.
The outfit of the Bar-20 was too well known to cause exuberant joy to
spring from the idea of war with it, and well in the center of all the
tales concerning it were the persons Tex had named. To deliberately
set forth with the avowed intention of planting these was not at all
calculated to induce sweet dreams.

Tex sneered his contempt.

"Yore shore uneasy: yu ain't a-scared, are yu?" He drawled. Porous
relaxed and made a show of subduing his horse: "I reckon I ain't scared
plumb to death. Yu can deal me a hand," he asserted.

"I'll draw cards too," hastily announced Silent, buttoning his vest.
"Tell us about that jamboree over in th' Panhandle."

Tex repeated the story as he had heard it from a bibulous member of the
Barred Horseshoe, and then added a little of torture as a sauce to whet
their appetites for revenge.

"How did Trendley cash in?" Asked Porous.

"Nobody knows except that bum from th' Tin-Cup. I'll get him later. I'd
a got Cassidy up in Santa Fe, too, if it wasn't for th' sun in my eyes.
Me an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see nothing
with him a-standin' against th' sun."

"Where's Slim now?" Asked Porous. "I ain't seen him for some time."

"Slim's with Trendley," replied Tex. "Cassidy handed him over to St.
Pete at Cactus Springs. Him an' Connors sicked their outfit on him an'
his vigilantes, bein helped some by th' O-Bar-O. They wiped th' town
plumb off th' earth, an' now I'm going to do some wipin' of my own
account. I'll prune that gang of some of its blossoms afore long. It's
cost me seventeen friends so far, an' I'm going to stop th' leak, or
make another."

They entered Muddy Wells at sunrise on the day of the carnival and,
eating a hearty breakfast, sallied forth to do their share toward making
the festivities a success.

The firs