"Got one that time," he announced a second later.
"I wonder who's got th' buffalo," grunted Pete.

"Mus' be Cowan," he replied to his own question and settled himself to use his left hand.
"Don't yu git Shorty; he's my meat," suggested Skinny.
"Yu better tell Buck--he ain't got no love fer Shorty," replied Pete, aiming carefully.
The panic in the corral ceased and Hopalong was now sending his regrets against the panels of the rear door.

He had cut his last initial in the near panel and was starting a wobbly "H" in its neighbor.

He was in a good position.

There were no windows in the rear wall, and as the door was a very dangerous place he was not fired at.
He began to get tired of this one-sided business and crawled up on the window ledge, dangling his feet on the outside.