Then Tag, by a violent effort,
hurled Prescott from him and rose, ready for battle.
But Dick landed close beside the sawed-off shotgun, which he snatched
from the ground as he rose to his feet.
"You cur!" said Dick. "Robbing girls!"
"I hated to do it," growled Tag, looking somewhat shamefaced.
"But I've got to have money to get away from this corner of the
world. The deputies are out after me, and they'll get me yet,
if I stay here."
With a quick movement Dick threw the gun open at the breech.
"It isn't loaded," Tag informed him grimly. "This is the piece
of iron that holds cartridges."
From a hip pocket he brought a heavy, long-barreled revolver into
sight.
"You can't scare me with firearms," declared Dick doughtily.
"Nor are you going to rob these young women, who are my best friends."
"I'm not going to try again," announced Tag. "What I want is
for you to keep away from me, and not follow me. If you do---well,
you can guess the answer! Now, as I'm going, give me that gun."
"I won't," Dick declared firmly, holding it by the muzzle and
ready to employ the weapon as a club.
"You'll make a lot of trouble and danger for yourself and the
girls if you don't put the gun on the ground and walk away from
it," warned Tag, glowering.
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