"They'll be there till to-morrow noon—they's waitin' for their cookie, who's goin' with them."
"A cook! A cook! Oh, joy, a cook!" exulted Johnny, not for one instant doubting Buck's ability to capture the whole outfit and seeing a whirl of excitement in the effort.
"Anybody we knows?" inquired Skinny Thompson.
"Shore. Tenspot Davis, Waffles, Salvation Carroll, Bigfoot Baker, Charley Lane, Lefty Allen, Kid Morris, Curley Tate an' Tex Le Blanc," responded Frenchy.
"Umm-m. Might as well rope a blizzard," grumbled Billy. "Might as well try to git th' Seventh Cavalry. We'll have a pious time corralling that bunch. Them's th' fellows that hit that bunch of inquirin' Crow braves that time up in th' Bad Lands an' then said by-bye to th' Ninth."
"Aw, shut up! They's only two that's very much, an' Buck an' Hopalong can sing 'em to sleep," interposed Johnny, afraid that the expedition would fall through.
"How about Curley and Tex?" pugnaciously asked Billy.
"Huh, jest because they buffaloed yu over to Las Vegas yu needn't think they's dangerous. Salvation an' Tenspot are th' only ones who can shoot," stoutly maintained Johnny.
"Here yu, get mum," ordered Buck to the pair. "When this outfit goes after anything it generally gets it. All in favor of kidnappin' that outfit signify th' same by kickin' Billy," whereupon Bill swore.
"Do yu want yore hat?" asked Buck, turning to Frenchy.
"I shore do," answered that individual.
"If yu helps us at th' round-up we'll get it for yu. Fifty a month an' grub," offered the foreman.
"O.K." replied Frenchy, anxious to even matters.
Buck looked at his watch. "Seven o'clock—we ought to get there by five if we relays at th' Barred-Horseshoe. Come on."
"How are we goin' to git them?" asked Billy.
