"I won't drop the only weapon that I have," Dick returned firmly.
"You could down me easily unless I had something like this to
swing. As long as these young women are under my protection I
will not give up the only weapon that I have."
"If I press the trigger of this pistol," challenged Tag, "will
you be able to offer the girls much protection then?"
"Perhaps not," Prescott rejoined. "But shooting me will be the
only way that you can get this gun from me."
There could be no doubt that the high school boy meant just what
he said. Tag, who was not accustomed to wasting time in crises,
turned angrily on his heel.
"Hold on there a moment," called Dick. The other boy baited,
turning about. "Do you remember what I told you the other day?"
demanded Prescott.
"You've told me a lot of things I never took from any other kid,"
growled Tag.
"Do you remember what I told you about your father, his love for
you, and his desire to meet and claim you?"
"Old Bill Mosher's love?" laughed Tag harshly. "I'd stay and
laugh a while at that, but I've other business for to-day."
"No; your real father, Mr. Page!" Dick cried after him, as Tag
started away. "Bill Mosher found you in a railroad wreck. Your
real father is a man of wealth.
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