aking, Hank Stiger swung himself on the back of his mustang,
which little beast looked all out of proportion to the deer and man
mounted on him. His gun was slung over his shoulder, and there he
allowed it to remain while he gathered up the reins and urged his pony
forward.

Ralph was white. As told before, he was but a boy of eight, yet his
life on the frontier had given him the appearance of being ten or more.
Rushing in front of the mustang, he raised his gun and pointed the
muzzle at Stiger's head.

[Illustration: "'YOU SHA'N'T LEAVE THIS SPOT UNTIL YOU GIVE UP THAT
DEER, AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT!'"]

"Stop where you are!" he cried, commandingly. "You sha'n't leave this
spot until you give up that deer, and that's all there is to it!"

CHAPTER III.

A QUARREL AND ITS RESULT.

It must be confessed that Hank Stiger was badly frightened when Ralph
confronted him with the loaded gun. He was naturally not an overly
brave fellow, and while the boy before him was young, yet he realised
that Ralph could shoot as well as many a man. Besides this, Dan was
there, and he was also armed, and now had his finger on the trigger of
the ancient cavalry musket.

"Don't shoot!" The words came from Dan. He could not help but admire
his brother's pluck, yet he was sorry that the affair had taken such an
acute turn. His caution was unnecessary, for Ralph had no intention of
firing, excepting Stiger should attempt to rush by him or use the gun
slung on his shoulder.

The mustang took several steps, and then the half-breed brought him to
an abrupt halt. "You're carrying matters with a putty high hand, to my
notion," he remarked, sarcastically.

An awkward pause followed, Ralph knowing not what to say, and glancing
at Dan, half afraid that his brother would be tremendously angry with
him over the hasty threat he had made. Yet he felt that he was in the
right, and he kept his gun-barrel on a line with the half-breed's head.

"Stiger, you might as well give up the deer," said Dan, as quietly as
he could. "It's Ralph's first big game, and of course he feels mighty
proud of it. A good shot like you ought to be able to bring down lots
of game of your own."

Dan imagined that this tempered speech and side praise would put the
half-breed in good humour, but he was mistaken. Stiger glanced from one
lad to the other, his face growing more sullen each instant.

"This deer is mine, and you can't force me to give it up," he m