Bob Somers, however, stepped between them.
"That will do, Pete," he said, quietly.
"I won't stan' no more o' sich nonsense, Colliver," added Jim Reynolds. "Git back!"
His huge hand grabbed Pete by the shoulder, and the stocky lad was hurled aside.
Bob and his companions seized the opportunity to take their departure, a proceeding to which Griffin and Smull voiced loud objections, while Jim Reynolds called out:
"Don't go 'way riled, boys; can't we talk over this thing a bit?"
"No!" answered Bob, firmly; "the last word's been said."
Sending a chorus of good-byes over their shoulders, they made toward their bronchos.
The seven quickly mounted, and rode out into the open. Quirts cracked, and the riders found themselves being carried down a gentle slope.
None drew rein until rise after rise had been passed, and the line of timber left far behind.