But the man was a stranger to the young ranchman, and he could not even remember having seen the rascal's face before.
"Stop!" called out Allen, as he struck Lilly to urge her on. "Stop! Do you hear me?"
The man caught the words and wheeled about quickly. He was evidently much disturbed by the encounter. He had been looking ahead, and had known nothing of Allen's approach.
"Stop, do you hear?" repeated Allen.
"Wot do yer want?" was the surly response, but the speaker did not draw rein in the least.
"I want you to stop!" exclaimed Allen, growing excited. "That horse belongs to my brother!"
"Reckon you air mistaken, stranger," was the cool reply. "This air hoss is mine."
This unexpected reply staggered Allen. He had expected the man to either show fight or take to his heels. It was plainly evident that the fellow intended, if possible, to bluff him off.
"Your horse? Not much! Whoa, Rush, old boy!"
Commanded by that familiar tongue, the horse came to a halt that was so sudden it nearly pitched the rider out of his saddle. He muttered something under his breath, straightened up and gave the reins a vicious yank that made Rush rear up in resentment.