"Look here!" Dave cried. "If you try to strike me with that I'll pull you off your pony and give you the best drubbing you ever had." He snatched the quirt from Len's wrist, breaking the thong, and flung the little whip far out on the prairie. "Oh!" mumbled Len, and he shrunk away in fear. "I won't touch you--at least not now--if you don't try any more of your underhand work," promised Dave. "But I'm going to converse with you right here and now. Why did you cut the posts of our special corral? Answer me that!" "I didn't cut any posts!" was the sullen answer. "You didn't; eh? Well, I think you did, and I'll prove it too, sooner or later. What are you hanging around here for now?" "Isn't this a free range? Haven't I a right to ride it if I want to?" "Yes, you have, but you must have some object in it, and I believe you want to see our cattle stampede. But I fooled you that time, Len Molick, and I'll fool you again. Now I want to know something else. Is Whitey Wasson the only one who told you I--that I wasn't Mr. Carson's son?" For the life of him Dave could not help the falter that crept into his voice. "Yes; he's the only one who told me," was Len's sullen answer. "How did he find out about it?" "Huh! How should I know? Ask him!" "I intend to after I get through with you." Len winced again. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to thrash you--at least not now," said Dave, grimly. He was willing that Len should get what satisfaction he could out of that promise. "Well, if you're through with me, you let me go!" the bully demanded. "You haven't any right to hold me up this way." "I've just as much right as you have to take a saw and cut through our fence posts, so that the least pressure by the cattle would crack 'em off short," retorted Dave. "I didn't saw any of your posts, I tell you!" insisted Len. Dave was working his horse around to get closer to Len. Before the bully suspected it Dave had suddenly slipped his hand in under Len's coat, and had pulled out a short saw. For a moment Len was too surprised to utter a word. Then he cried: "Here! Give me that!" "No, I don't think I will," Dave said, coolly. "I may need it as evidence. I thought you said you didn't saw any posts." "I--I didn't!" "Then Whitey Wasson, or some of your crowd, did. I suppose they passed the saw to you to get rid of, which you would have done if you were wise." "I--I found that saw on the plains," stammered Len. "Probably where Whitey dropped it," Dave retorted. "Now look here Len Molick," he went on. "You say you didn't saw those posts, but I think you did, and I'm going to try to prove it. This saw is part of the proof. I guess I'll just keep it. "And one thing more. If I catch you hanging around our special corral, even if you are on free range land, I'll tackle you. Don't forget that!" "If you dare to touch me!" fairly screamed Len, for he was very angry now, "if you dare to touch me I'll have you arrested! My father knows the sheriff--"