“Mark hasn’t quit.” Sutherland eyed him a moment before he continued. “It seems he only went off for a spell to attend some private business. Likewise, seein’ as he ain’t got no grudge against you, and don’t exactly fancy havin’ to shoot you up, an’ not proposin’ to quit the country just because you’re on the war path, he thought he better give you a chance to cool off.”
“Oh, hell!” Robin exploded. “I don’t care two whoops about Mark Steele’s reasons for anything. Come to the point. Have you changed your mind about me runnin’ the Block S?”
“Well, not exactly,” Sutherland returned unruffled. “But for good an’ sufficient reasons of my own,” he stressed the possessive, “I’ve concluded to let Mark run the round-up on the home range again. I got another wagon boss’s job for you, though.”
Robin didn’t speak. He couldn’t understand. It seemed to him like blowing hot and cold. There was a double disappointment in being deposed before he had fairly taken up the reins—and to stand aside for Shining Mark galled him more than he wished to admit. He rose and took up his hat.
“Set down an’ listen to me, kid.” Sutherland’s tone was friendly. Robin didn’t sit down, but he stood to listen.
“There’s one thing most of us don’t like,” Sutherland continued. “That’s a man that don’t know his own mind. Right now you’re thinkin’ I don’t know my own mind. An’ you’re wonderin’ why. Was your heart set on runnin’ the Block S round-up this spring?”
Robin looked at him for a second or two.
“What’s the difference,” he said at last, “what my heart might be set on? That don’t spell nothin’ to you. If you figure Mark Steele is a better man for your purpose than me, that settles it. But I don’t have to agree with you, do I?”
“Well, I’d kinda like to have you agree with me on one or two things,” Sutherland commented.
“I ain’t likely to agree with you on anything in connection with Mark Steele,” Robin declared.