"Getting your wind back?"
The man simply scowled in reply as Bob held the gun so that he could see that he had it.
"No use in being ugly about it," he told him. "I'm the one who ought to be mad. You had two chances and you can bet your sweet life I'm not going to give you a third."
Bob was intending to leave at once being confident that the man would not dare to follow him now that he knew that he was armed, but something in his face made him hesitate. For the first time he realized that the outlaw was very young. In fact, as he sat there he did not look much over twenty and a wave of pity swept over the boy.
"How old are you?" he asked kindly.
"I'll be twenty-one next month."
"And what's your name?"
"What you want to know that for?"
Bob was impressed by the fact that the outlaw was now using better English than he had been and was becoming more and more convinced that he had seen better days.
"No reason in particular," he told him.