“They’re hidden, all right,” Jed sneered.
“Then why worry? After the recount we can trot them out again and we’ll be stronger than ever. Nobody will have the nerve to order another recount for some time.”
“You may ‘trot out’ some of them after the recount, but there’s others you won’t.”
The bitter sarcasm in Jed’s tone made Dawson sit up in alarm. “What’s up?” he asked anxiously.
“A lot you don’t seem to know anything about,” Jed retorted angrily. “We lost three thousand sheep this afternoon, that’s what I’m fussing about.”
“Lost them? How?”
“Through that cursed patrolman of yours, that’s how.” Jed was so angry that he was almost beside himself.
“Didn’t eat ’em did he?” Dawson sneered.
“Can now if he wants to,” Jed raved, “they’re dead enough to eat.”
“Dead?” Dawson ejaculated.