"Hopalong h—l!" he cried, remembering the day that Doc had been shot, and certain hints which Antonio had let fall.
"Father!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing.
"Oh, don't mind me," he replied. "I don't know what I'm saying half th' time. I'm all mixed up, now-a-days."
"I believe he was telling the truth—he wouldn't lie to me," she remarked, decisively.
He looked at her sharply. "Well, am I to be tied down by something I don't know about? Am I to swaller everything I hear? I don't know about no agreement, except what th' Bar-20 tells me. An' if there was one it was made by th' Three Triangle, wasn't it?—an' not by Nason or me? Am I th' Three Triangle? Am I to walk th' line on something I didn't make? I didn't make it!—oh, I'm tired arguing about it."
"Well, even if there wasn't no agreement you can't blame them for trying to keep their land, can you?" she asked, idly fingering her sewing. "The land is theirs, ain't it?"
"Did you ever hear of free grass an' free water?"
"I never heard of nothing else till I came down here," she admitted. "But it may be different here."
"Well, it ain't different!" he retorted. "An' if it is it won't stay so. What goes in Montanny will go down here. Anyhow, I don't want their land—all I want is th' use of it, same as they have. But they're hogs, an' want it all."
"They say it ain't big enough for their herds."