"I intend to after I get through with you."
Len winced again.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to thrash you—at least not now," said Dave, grimly. He was willing that Len should get what satisfaction he could out of that promise.
"Well, if you're through with me, you let me go!" the bully demanded. "You haven't any right to hold me up this way."
"I've just as much right as you have to take a saw and cut through our fence posts, so that the least pressure by the cattle would crack 'em off short," retorted Dave.
"I didn't saw any of your posts, I tell you!" insisted Len.
Dave was working his horse around to get closer to Len. Before the bully suspected it Dave had suddenly slipped his hand in under Len's coat, and had pulled out a short saw.
For a moment Len was too surprised to utter a word. Then he cried:
"Here! Give me that!"
"No, I don't think I will," Dave said, coolly. "I may need it as evidence.
I thought you said you didn't saw any posts."