"Mornin'," said Hopalong.
"Mornin'," replied the stranger. "I thought I'd drop in an' say that I saw that gun-play of yourn yesterday. Yu ain't got no reason to look fer a rush. This camp is half white men an' half bullies, an' th' white men won't stand fer no play like that. Them fellers that jest passed are neighbors of yourn, an' they won't lay abed if yu needs them. But yu wants to look out fer th' joints in th' town. Guess this business is out of yore line," he finished as he sized Hopalong up.
"She shore is, but I'm here to stay. Got tired of punchin' an' reckoned I'd get rich." Here he smiled and glanced at the hole. "How're yu makin' out?" he asked.
"'Bout five dollars a day apiece, but that ain't nothin' when grub's so high. Got reckless th' other day an' had a egg at fifty cents."
Hopalong whistled and glanced at the empty cans at his feet. "Any marshal in this burg?"
"Yep. But he's one of th' gang. No good, an' drunk half th' time an' half drunk th' rest. Better come down an' have something," invited the miner.
"I'd shore like to, but I can't let no gang get in that door," replied the puncher.
"Oh, that's all right; I'll call my pardner down to keep house till yu gits back. He can hold her all right. Hey, Jake!" he called to a man who was some hundred paces distant; "come down here an' keep house till we gits back, will yu?"
The man lumbered down to them and took possession as Hopalong and his newly found friend started for the town.
They entered the "Miner's Rest" and Hopalong fixed the room in his mind with one swift glance. Three men—and they looked like the crowd he had stopped before—were playing poker at a table near the window. Hopalong leaned with his back to the bar and talked, with the players always in sight.
