I was deeply chagrined at the unexpected turn affairs had taken, and I felt decidedly uncomfortable as John Stumpy levelled the weapon at my head. I could readily see that the battle of words was at an end. Action was now the order of the day. I wondered what the fellow would do next; but I was not kept long in suspense.
"Now, it's my turn, young fellow," he remarked, with a shrewd grin, as I fell back.
"Well, what do you want?" I asked, as coolly as I could recognizing the fact that nothing was to be gained by "stirring him up."
"You'll see fast enough. In the first place, hand over that paper."
I was silent. I did not intend to tell a falsehood by saying I did not have it, nor did I intend to give it up if it could possibly be avoided.
"Did you hear what I said?" continued Stumpy, after a pause.
"I thought you said the paper wasn't valuable," I returned, more to gain time than anything else.
"Neither it ain't, but, just the same, I want it. Come, hand it over."
He was getting ugly now, and no mistake. What was to be done?
As I have mentioned before, it would have been useless to call for help, as no one would have heard the calls.