The boy answered without looking around.
"Watch him. Don't forget yourself while you are having such a pleasant conversation. I shall have to have my horse here," called Tad.
"Drop it!" yelled the fat boy, swinging his rifle toward the horseman again. The latter was tugging at the rifle in his saddle boot. The man halted instantly.
"Upon second thought you may pull it out. First turn your back to me, but be slow about it, and after you get the gun from its holster, just let it fall to the ground with the revolver. I'll talk with you some more after you have done that. I mean business!"
The stranger knew that. He was perplexed. That boys should be so cool and so ready to defend themselves against an experienced woodsman passed his comprehension.
The horseman drew the rifle all the way out, Stacy warning, "Slower, slower," as the operation proceeded. The horseman's back being turned to the boy left the man at a disadvantage, and he did not dare to attempt a shot, knowing that the boy could fire at least twice before he could get into position to shoot once.
"Let go of it!" commanded Stacy sharply.
The rifle fell near where the revolver lay. Stacy chuckled audibly.
"Shall I give him the run, Tad? I have pulled his fangs. He can't do us any harm now," proclaimed Chunky.
"No," Tad rejoined quietly.