“Say!” exclaimed Tony. “Don’t hold me for Steve’s sins. I took your coffee-pot and truck and you got ’em back. Now let up on a feller.”
“Why should I?” Chet demanded seriously. “I’ve got to find the deeds.”
“I ain’t got ’em—honest!” declared Tony.
“I wouldn’t take your word for it,” growled Dig, in the background.
“Well! you might as well believe me,” almost whined the big fellow. “I don’t want you boys to keep me tied up this a-way.”
“Shut up, you sniveler!” commanded the man called Steve, from the other side of the fire.
“Say! you can shut up yourself,” cried Tony. “I knowed you’d get us into trouble. These are two powerful smart boys and we’d oughtn’t to have treated ’em so mean. Give ’em the papers back, Steve.”
“Shut your mouth!” yelled the other man. “I haven’t the papers.”
“Well, you had ’em,” grumbled Tony.
“We’ll search him again—to the skin,” said Chet bitterly. “Come on, Dig. Hold your gun on him,” and he approached Steve.