was customary under the conditions formed no excuse in his mind for their passing. He was now on his way to attend the carnival at Muddy Wells, knowing that his enemy would be sure to be there.
While passing through Las Cruces he met Porous Johnson and Silent Somes, who were thirsty and who proclaimed that fact, whereupon he relieved them of their torment and, looking forward to more treatment of a similar nature, they gladly accompanied him without asking why or where.
As they left the town in their rear Tex turned in his saddle and surveyed them with a cynical smile.
"Have yu heard anything of Trendley?" he asked.
They shook their heads.
"Him an' th' Deacon was killed over in th' Panhandle," he said.
"What!" chorused the pair.
"Jack Dorman, Shorty Danvers, Charley Teale, Stiffhat Bailey, Billy Jackson, Terry Nolan an' Sailor Carson was lynched."
"What!" they shouted.
"Fish 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' 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,
