"I mean to have you stop and answer a few questions," was the calm retort.

"If it's about these cattle I tell you I'm not trying to drive off any of
yours," said Len, in whining tones. He knew the severe penalty attached to
this in a cow country, and Dave was sufficiently formidable, as he sat
easily on his horse facing the bully, to make Len a little more
respectful.

"I'm not going to ask you about these cattle--at least not right away,"
Dave went on. "This is about another matter. You said something just now
that needs explaining."

"I say a good many things," Len admitted, and again there sounded in his
voice a sneer. "I don't have to explain to you everything I say; do I?"

"You do when it concerns me," and Dave put his horse directly across the
trail, which, at this point narrowed and ran between two low ranges of
hills. "You said something about me just now--you called me a nameless,
picked-up nobody!"

Dave could not help wincing as he repeated the slur.

"Well, what if I did?" demanded the bully.

"I want to know what you mean. You insinuated that Mr. Carson was not my
father."

"He isn't!"