The advent of the outfit meant a square meal, and the dog knew it.
In Cowan's, lined up against the bar, the others were earnestly and assiduously endeavoring, with a promise of success, to get By-and-by drunk, which endeavors coincided perfectly with By-and-by's idea of the fitness of things.

The fellowship and the liquor combined to thaw out his reserve and to loosen his tongue.

After gazing with an air of injured surprise at the genial loosening of his knees he gravely handed his rifle with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, to the cowboy nearest him, and wrapped his arms around the recipient to insure his balance.
The rifle was passed from hand to hand until it came to Buck Peters, who gravely presented it to its owner as a new gun.
By-and-by threw out his stomach in an endeavor to keep his head in line with his heels, and grasping the weapon with both hands turned to Cowan, to whom he gave it.
"Yu hab this un.

Me got two.

Me keep new un, mebby so." Then he loosened his belt and drank long and deep.
A shadow darkened the doorway and Hopalong limped in.