"Where did you get it? I'll warrant you didn't work for it."
"That's our business," answered Mosely, stiffly. "The question is, Do you want to sell?"
"No, I don't; and if I did I should want to know whose money I was takin'."
Bill Mosely was disappointed. In that lonely neighborhood it was hardly likely there would be any other opportunity of obtaining horses, and there was nothing for it but to walk.
"You haven't got any other business, have you, Mosely?" asked Bradley.
"No.—Tom, come on."
"Good-bye, then. Our acquaintance has been brief, Mosely, but I know you as well as if we'd lived in the same town for years. You're a fine man, you are, and an ornament to your native State; but if you ain't a little more careful you'll be likely to die young, and the world will lose a man who in his line can't be beat."
Bill Mosely did not attempt any reply to this farewell, but strode down the sloping path, closely followed by Tom Hadley.
When he had got out of hearing of his late captors he turned to Hadley and said, "I hate that man! He has put a stain on my honor; he has insulted and outraged me."
"I should say so," observed Tom Hadley.