'll get something you ain't looking for."

"I'm a going home!" The Kid pulled Silver half around in the grassy
gulch they were following. "And I'm going to tell the bunch what you
said. I bet the bunch'll make you hard to ketch, you--you son-agun!"

"Here! You come back here, young man!" H. J. Owens reached over and
caught Silver's bridle. "You don't go home till I let you go; see.
You're going right along with me, if anybody should ask you. And you
ain't going to talk like that either, now mind!" He turned his pale blue
eyes threateningly upon the Kid. "Not another word out of you if you
don't want a good thrashing. You come along and behave yourself or I'll
cut your ears off."

The Kid's eyes blazed with anger. He did not flinch while he glared back
at the man, and he did not seem to care, just at that moment, whether
he lost his ears or kept them. "You let go my horse!" he gritted. "You
wait. The bunch'll fix YOU, and fix you right. You wait!"

H. J. Owens hesitated, tempted to lay violent hands upon the small
rebel. But he did not. He led Silver a rod or two, found it awkward,
since the way was rough and he was not much of a horseman, and in a few
minutes let the rein drop from his fingers.

"You come on, Buck, and be a good boy--and maybe we'll find them cubs
yet," he conciliated. "You'd die a-laughing at the way they set up and
scratch their ears when a big, black ant bites 'em, Buck. I'll show you
in a little while. And there's a funny camp down here, too, where we can
get some supper."

The Kid made no reply, but he rode along docilely beside H. J. Owens and
listened to the new story he told of the bears. That is, he appeared to
be listening; in reality he was struggling to solve the biggest problem
he had ever known--the problem of danger and of treachery. Poor little
tad, he did not even know the names of his troubles. He only knew that
this man had told him a lie about those baby bear cubs, and had brought
him away down here where he had been lost, and that it was getting dark
and he wanted to go home and the man was mean and would not let him go.
He did not understand why the man should be so mean--but the man was
mean to him, and he did not intend to "stand for it." He wanted to go
home. And when the Kid really wanted to do a certain thing, he nearly
always did it, as you may have observed.

H. J. Owens would not let him go home; therefore the Kid meant to go
anyway. Only he would have to sneak off,