"I have answered all the questions I am going to," said Bob, indignantly.
"Don't get riled, youngster. It ain't no secret, is it?"
"I don't care about answering all the questions a stranger chooses to put to me."
"I say, young chap, you're gettin' on your high horse."
"What is your object in putting all these questions?"
"What is my object?"
"That is what I asked."
"The fact is, youngster, I've got a ranch round here myself, and I've got about five hundred bushels of wheat I want to market. Naturally I'm interested. See?"
Bob did not believe a word of this.
"Where is your ranch?" he asked.