"I make out that neither you nor any other man has any business driving
stock off my range without consulting me first."
"They're Big Bend cows," muttered Blenham. "The ol' man's orders----"
"Curse the old man's orders!" Steve's voice rang out angrily. "If he
can't be decent to me, can't he at least let me alone? Need he send
you here to do business with me? If you want orders, Blenham, you just
take these from me: Ride back to the old man on Big Bend ranch and tell
him that what stock is on my ranch I keep here until he can prove it is
his! Understand? If he can prove that these steers belong to him--and
I don't believe he can and you can tell him that, too--why then, let
him send me the money to pay for their pasturage and he can have them.
And in the meantime, Mr. Blenham, get out and be damned to you!"
For the moment Steve lost all thought of Terry sitting very still so
close to him, his mind filled with his grandfather and his
grandfather's chosen tool. So when he thought that he heard the
suspicion of a stifled giggle, a highly amused and vastly delighted
little giggle, he was for the instant of the opinion that Blenham was
laughing at him.
But the intruder was all seriousness. He sat motionless, his glance
stony, his thought veiled, his one good eye giving no more hint of his
purpose than did the patch over the other eye.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184