“You have,” Robin admitted frankly. “But I’m not goin’ to tell you, right now. You’d have only my bare word. If I had a round-up crew to myself for a couple of months I might be able to show you.”
“Is it that serious?” Sutherland asked slowly.
Robin looked at him keenly. He couldn’t quite make out this heavy-faced man whose brain was of a vastly different quality from his flesh-burdened body or he would never have become a power in the Bear Paws. Sutherland wasn’t stupid. Neither was Robin. Only Robin didn’t want to talk, now that he had a hearer—where six months earlier he would have poured out his tale.
“Do you know that Steele has bought in with Dan Mayne?” he asked Sutherland.
Sutherland nodded. His eyes were on Robin narrowly.
“This got something to do with Bar M Bar stock, this trouble between you two?”
“Partly.”
“You don’t seem to want to talk.”
“I won’t,” Robin said bluntly. “If I had a chance I might show you.”
“All right, you can show me. I’m from Missouri.”