"Maybe I do, an' maybe I don't. It ain't none of you-uns' business."
"You are very civil, I must say."
"Don't you git fly, boy, or this ole gun o' mine might go off. This ain't no trail fer you-uns, an' you-uns have got to turn back."
"Will you tell us if that other trail runs to Caville?" asked Dick.
"It don't run nowheres." The old man grinned for a moment. "It stays where it are. But if you-uns travel along it for about five miles, ye'll reach the town."
"And you won't tell us whose road this is?" came from Tom.
"It ain't none of you-uns' business, thet ain't. Better turn back an' have done with it."
The old man showed plainly that he did not wish to converse further. He stood in the center of the trail, with his gun ready for instant use.
"We made a mistake before and got into a sink-hole," said Dick. "We don't want to make another mistake."
"Take tudder trail an' you-uns will be all right," answered the old man, and thereupon they turned around and rode off.
"What a crusty old fellow!" said Sam.
"Yes, but he meant business," came from Fred.
