"Shore, but he don't eat grass," retorted Cimarron; "an' what's more, he don't stop on it at all."
"Well, I'll try once more," said Johnny, in simulated desperation. "Mebby cow-hawks flew away with 'em seein' that there wasn't no brands to prove nothin'."
After the laughter quieted down, Cimarron jammed his fist into an open palm with a resounding smash. "I'm thinkin' we got more interest in th' way them SV cows are handled than we ever thought. I'm gettin' interested in seein' that th' SV runs itself some better than it has. There's ideas millin' around in my head that some folks might say are scandalous an' unpolite. You all heard me—lemme hear somethin'."
"An' I'm wantin' to know," said Johnny, "what kind of barb wire is sold down in these parts?"
"Mean, cussed mean," replied Slim.
"Then mebby that's why it won't stay up," muttered Johnny. "It keeps a-comin' down from off them posts around th' quicksands, pullin' out double staples, an' draggin' itself all over th' valley. A couple of them posts set fire to themselves, too, an' burned till they busted themselves off, close to th' ground. I'm shore doin' a lot of guessin'."
"Lacey told me—" began Deuce.
"—to rope yourself," interrupted Cimarron. "We got lots of time, later, to hear about what Lacey told you."
"I believe in bein' neighborly," said Matt, "an' givin' folks a hand when they deserve it."