Hopalong seemed contrite and downcast. He looked around the group and let his eyes return to those of the trail-boss. "I reckon so," he growled. "But have you got th' numbers of th' missin' bills?" he asked, skeptically.
"Yes, I have; an' a lot of good it'll do me, now!" snapped McCullough. "We was countin' on them for th' real proof, but that fool play of yourn threw 'em into th' discard! What'n h—l made you set that place afire?"
Hopalong shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno," he muttered. "Was you aimin' to find th' missin' bills on them fellers?" he asked. "Would that 'a' satisfied you?"
"Of course!" snorted the trail-boss. "An' with Trask, here, turnin' agin 'em like he has it would be more than enough. Any fool knows that!"
Hopalong arose. "I'm glad to hear you come right out an' say that, for that's what I wanted to know. I've been bothered a heap about what you might ask in th' line of proof. You shore relieve my mind, Mac. If you fellers will straddle leather we'll ride out where Kane an' th' others Trask named are waitin' for visitors. I don't reckon they none of them got away from Johnny an' Red."
"What are you talkin' about?" demanded McCullough, his mouth open from surprise.
"I mean we've got Kane, Roberts, Corwin, Miguel, an' another Greaser all tied up, waitin' to turn 'em over to you an' collect them rewards. As long as we know just what you want, an' can give it to you, I don't see no use of waitin'. I'm invitin' Lukins an' th' rest along to see th' finish. What you goin' to do with Trask?"
McCullough was looking at him through squinting eyes, his face a more ruddy color. Glancing around the group
