"See here, youngster, keep your parley to yourself!" howled the man, scowling at Allen.
"I will—after you get down and turn that nag over to me," rejoined Allen, as coolly as he could, although he was in an exceedingly high state of suppressed excitement.
"And whyfore should I turn him over to you, seein' as how he belongs to me?" growled the man, as brazenly as he could.
"You stole that horse from our barn not four hours ago," retorted Allen. "I will waste no more words with you. Get down or take the consequences."
As he concluded the youth unslung his rifle in a suggestive manner. He had lived out in those wilds long enough to know that to trifle in such a case as this would be sheer foolishness.
"You're a hot-headed youngster, tew say the least," was the reply, and as he spoke the man scowled more viciously than ever. The sight of the ready rifle in Allen's hands was not at all to his liking. He made a movement toward his pistols, but a second glance at the youth made him change his mind.
"I said I would waste no more words with you," repeated Allen. "Get down!"
"But see here, youngster——"
"Get down!" And up came the rifle in a motion that caused the man to start back in terror.
"There must be a mistake somewhar," he said, slowly, as soon as he could recover. "My pard turned this critter over to me, and I reckoned it war all right."