"And the first thing you'd better own up to is pulling the missing planks up from this crazy old bridge." Tag snorted, yet had no word to say.

Instead, as best he could with his hands in the steel bracelets, he helped himself to a seat on the ground his back against a tree.

Either he was extremely weary, or he was pretending cleverly.
"Come! I guess you can talk better standing up," admonished Deputy Valden, seizing Tag by the coat collar and dragging him to his feet.

Mosher accepted the implied order in sullen silence.
"Is it necessary, Mr.Valden, to torment the prisoner ?" asked Dick quietly.
"The way I handle a prisoner is my business," replied Valden rather crisply.
"You'd rather sit down, wouldn't you, Tag ?" Dick inquired.

Young Mosher answered only with a nod.
"It makes you feel weaker to stand, doesn't it ?" Prescott continued.
Another nod.
"Mr.Valden," Dick pressed, "I hope you won't think me too forward, but I believe this prisoner, and I am going to urge you to let him find comfort by sitting down and resting." "What have you got to say about it ?" demanded Mr.Valden, so brusquely that Dick flushed.
"I'm not in a position of authority, and I admit it," Prescott replied.