"And so are we, sir," added Tom politely.

"Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk," retorted Bad Pete
haughtily. "Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner."

"Cheap baggage, are we?" mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. "My, but I feel properly
humiliated!"

"How many men has Bad Pete killed?" inquired Harry in an awed
voice.

"Don't know as he ever killed any," replied the Colorado boy,
"but I'm not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
accident."

"Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?" Tom
inquired.

"You'll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo," replied
the Colorado youth coldly "You're up in the mountains now."

"Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?" Tom
amended.

"Not many," admitted their driver. "The old breed is passing.
You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,