was boisterous, but they paid for all the damage they
inflicted; their work was one continual hardship, and the reaction of
one extreme swings far toward the limit of its antithesis. Go back to
the Apple if you would trace the beginning of self-preservation and the
need.

Buck Peters was a man of mild appearance, somewhat slow of speech and
correspondingly quick of action, who never became flurried. His was the
master hand that controlled, and his Colts enjoyed the reputation of
never missing when a hit could have been expected with reason. Many
floods, stampedes and blizzards had assailed his nerves, but he yet
could pour a glass of liquor, held at arm's length, through a knothole
in the floor without wetting the wood.

Next in age came Lanky Smith, a small, undersized man of retiring
disposition. Then came Skinny Thompson, six feet four on his bared
soles, and true to his name; Hopalong described him as "th' shadow of a
chalk mark." Pete Wilson, the slow-witted and very taciturn, and
Billy Williams, the wavering pessimist, were of ordinary height and
appearance. Red Connors, with hair that shamed the name, was the
possessor of a temper which was as dry as tinder; his greatest weakness
was his regard for the rifle as a means of preserving peace. Johnny
Nelson was the protege, and he could do no wrong.

The last, Hopalong Cassidy, was a combination of irresponsibility,
humor, good nature, love of fighting, and nonchalance when face to face
with danger. His most prominent attribute was that of always getting
into trouble without any intention of so doing; in fact, he was much
aggrieved and surprised when it came. It seemed as though when any "bad
man" desired to add to his reputation he invariably selected Hopalong as
the means (a fact due, perhaps, to the perversity of things in general).
Bad men became scarce soon after Hopalong became a fixture in any
locality. He had been crippled some years before in a successful
attempt to prevent the assassination of a friend, Sheriff Harris, of
Albuquerque, and he still possessed a limp.

When Red had relieved his feelings and had dug the alkali out of his
ears and eyes, he led the Sioux to the rear of the saloon, where a
"pinto" was busily engaged in endeavoring to pitch a saddle from his
back, employing the intervals in trying to see how much of the picket
rope he could wrap around his legs.

When By-and-by saw what he was expected to ride he felt somewhat
relieved, for t