“That’s just it,” returned Duncan, with an evil smile. “He has been and still is. And now I’m willing him to you. I don’t know when I’ve been more tickled over getting rid of a man.”
“Well,” said Langford, leaning farther back in his chair and clasping his hands, resting his chin on his thumbs, his lips curving with an ironic smile, “I suppose I ought to feel extremely grateful to you—especially since when I was negotiating the purchase of the ranch you didn’t hint of a nester being on the property.”
“I didn’t sell Doubler to you,” said Duncan.
Langford’s smile was shallow. “But I get him just the same,” he said. “As a usual thing it is pretty hard to get rid of a nester, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t been able to get rid of this one,” returned Duncan. “He don’t seem to be influenced by anything I say, or do. Some obstinate.”
“Tried everything?”
“Yes.”
“The law?”
Duncan made a gesture of disgust. “The law!” he said. “What for? I haven’t been such a fool. He’s got as much right to the open range as I have—as you will have. I bought a section, and he took up a quarter section. The only difference between us is that I own mine—or did own it until you bought it—and he ain’t proved on his. He is on the other side of the river and I’m on this. Or rather,” he added with a grin, “he’s on the other side and you are on this. He’s got the best grass land in the country—and plenty of water.”
“His rights, then,” remarked Langford slowly, “equal yours—or mine. That is,” he added, “he makes free use of the grass and water.”