“Because I tell you to. We can’t have any boys stealing rides.”
“Is this stage yours?” asked Robert, surveying the landlord with provoking coolness.
“No matter whether it is or not,” retorted Jones, red in the face. “I tell you to come down. Do you hear?”
“Yes, I hear.”
“Then you’d better come down double quick or I’ll give you a taste of a horsewhip.”
“I advise you to mind your own business, Mr. Jones,” said Robert hotly, “and not interfere with the passengers by this stage.”
“You’re not a passenger, you young beggar!”
“I am a passenger—and now you’d better stop talking.”
“Have you got money to pay your fare?” asked the landlord, beginning to suspect he had made a fool of himself.
“When the driver calls for the fare it will be time enough to tell.”