Then he noticed that the crowd was spreading out and his Colts again became the center of interest.
"Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!" he ordered as the person addressed was gliding toward the door.

"I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot me from th' street.

Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop somethin' hot.
An' yu all better sit down," he suggested, sweeping them with his guns.
One man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in complying and Hopalong sent a bullet through the top of his high sombrero, which had a most gratifying effect.
"You'll regret this!" hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur of assent arose.

Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon and immediately a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.
"Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo," counted off the daring horseman; "move a bit an' off yu go," he finished.

Then his face broke out in another grin as he thought of more enjoyment.
"That there gent on th' left," he said, pointing out with a gun the man he meant.