"Were you alone before we came up?"
"When you were here earlier in the evening, as you saw for yourself, I had my sister and a friend."
"Exactly; who was that friend?"
"Mont Sterry, the gentleman who is on a little tour through some parts of Wyoming and Montana to try to help make you fellows behave yourselves."
"Yes; wal, we're looking for him."
"Why do you come here?"
"Because he spends a good deal of his time here; he seems to be interested in Miss Whitney."
"Well, if he is, that is no business of yours," retorted Fred, angered by the reference to his sister.
"Perhaps not, but it would be well for you to keep a civil tongue in your head, Fred Whitney; we're not in a pleasant mood to-night, for we've had trouble."
"It matters not to me what trouble you've had; you have no right to name any member of my family. They are in affliction; my father was shot down by your gang yesterday, and, though we made several of you fellows bite the dust, the whole of them weren't worth his little finger."