slapped his thigh in joy: "Good boy!" he laughed. "Billy's th' man—good Lord, but won't he give Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic soul to me."
Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, "Hey, Billy!" and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at his lack of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the accidental street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy steps and was trying to sing many songs at once.
Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to starboard: "Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!" he exclaimed.
Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his displeasure at this unwarranted action: "I ain't no wife-deserter!" he shouted. "Unrope me an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me!" Then he recognized his friend and grinned joyously: "Shore I will, but only one. Jus' one more, jus' one ore. Yu see, m'friend, it was all Jimmy's fault. He"
Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating friend to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.
"This yere," said Red in belligerent disgust, "is th' dod-blasted hero what's a-goin' to save Hopalong from a mournful future. What are we a-goin' to do?"
Buck slipped the Colt's from Billy's holster and yanked the erring one to his feet: "Fill him full of sweet oil, souce him in th' trough, walk him around for awhile an' see what it does," he ordered.
Two hours later Billy walked up to his foreman and weakly asked what was wanted. He looked as though he had just been released from a six-months' stay in a hospital.
"Yu go over to th' hotel an' find Hopalong," said the foreman sternly. "Stay with him all th' time, for there is a plot on foot
