"Come in, won't you?" Harry said politely. "Sit down." With a mutter the stockman dropped heavily into the nearest chair, took off his hat and mopped his face.
"Dusty riding round here now," said Rob.
"Yep. We need rain."
"I hope it holds off until we've pulled out of here."
"What's that? You're not wintering here? Haven't sold out, have you?" Chagrin was in Ludlum's face and voice as he glanced from Rob to Harry.
"Oh, no," Rob replied, with a smile. "We couldn't get hay enough up here to carry us through, that's all."
"It'll be different next year," Harry said with a note of triumph in her tone.
"Different, eh?" Ludlum sneered. "Because you've got the herd law through, you think you're fixed. I daresay that's the argyment you used to push the thing; told the rest of these rim-rock squatters that, if it wasn't for that confounded 'millionaire cattle trust' that was stealin' the grazing, you'd all get to be millionaires yourselves in no time."
"We told 'em it was the only thing to do to keep from being busted up and driven out entirely by fellows like you and Joyce," said Rob.
"And you think that because you ain't gettin' all you want it gives you the right to drive us out; hog all the free range yourselves. You're kinda mean, too, ain't you?"