"Yes it is: that is, most of it."
"Well, then, what's the rest of it?"
"Oh, them 's variations of their own," remarked Red, yawning and stretching. "Just wait till they start something sentimental; you 'll shore weep."
"I hope they stick to the variations. Say, you must be a pretty nifty gang on the shoot, ain't you?"
"Oh, some," answered Hopalong.
"I wish you fellers had been aboard with us one day about a month ago. We was the wrong end of a hold-up, and we got cleaned out proper, too."
"An' how many of 'em did you get?" asked Hopalong quickly, sitting bolt upright.
The fat man suddenly lost his interest in the card-game and turned an eager ear to the brakeman, while the dyspeptic stopped punching holes in his time-card and listened. The card-players glanced up and then returned to their game, but they, too, were listening.
The brakeman was surprised: "How many
