Sammy was thoughtful. "Say, that's a plumb favorite eatin' place, ain't it?"
Briggs laughed. "Wait till Saturday when th' boys come in. There 's a dozen shinin' up to that girl. Tom Clarke is real persistent."
Sammy forsook the building as a prop. "Who 's he? Puncher?"
"Yes; an' bad," replied the agent. "But I reckon she don't know it."
Sammy looked at the dust cloud and turned to ask one more question. "What does this persistent gent look like, an' where 's he hang out?" He nodded at the verbose reply and strode to his horse to ride toward the approaching herd. He espied Red first, and hailed. "Cars here in two hours. Where 's Hoppy?"
"Back in th' dust. But what happened to you?" demanded Red, with virile interest. Sammy ignored the challenge and loped along the edge of the cloud until he found the trail boss. "Them cars 'll be here in two hours," he reported.
"Take you three days to find it out?" snapped Hopalong.
