Bart, he hired yuh to work-and not to go prowling around lookin' up trails that ain't there--" "You're a dim-brand reader, I don't think! Why you--!" Oh, well--remember that Bud was only Buddy grown bigger, and he had never lacked the spirit to look out for himself.

Remember, too, that he must have acquired something of a vocabulary, in the course of twenty-one years of absorbing everything that came within his experience.
Dirk reached for his gun, but Bud was expecting that.

Dirk was not quite quick enough, and his hand therefore came forward with a jerk when he saw that he was "covered." Bud leaned, pulled Dirk's six-shooter from its holster and sent it spinning into a clump of bushes.

He snatched a wicked-looking knife from Dirk's boot where he had once seen Dirk slip it sheathed when he dressed in the bunk-house, and sent that after the gun.
"Now, you long-eared walrus, you're in a position to play fair.

What are you going to do about it ?" He reined away, out of Dirk's reach, took his handkerchief and wrapped his own gun tightly to protect it from sand, and threw it after Dirk's gun and the knife.