"But there's a dozen sites down in my range," he said.
"And a dozen small outfits wouldn't run any more cows than you do now," she said. "At least not on my range; so what difference will it make to me? Why don't you have men file on all those sites?"
"You can't make a contract that will hold a man to turn over his homestead after it's proved up," he said. "Half of them would keep their land."
"Of course," she agreed. "But then you'd have half instead of nothing at all. Do you want the world?"
"I want you!" he said. "Throw in with me, girl. I'm going to fight these nesters off—the Three Bar among the rest if you don't quit. I'll smash the Three Bar into mincemeat unless you run this damned Harris off and quit this game."
It was the first time Slade had ever threatened. Her spirits had soared over the prospects of the Three Bar and she was suddenly afraid for her brand if Slade, who had whittled down a dozen outfits at once, should suddenly turn his whole attention to the Three Bar.
"I've got it to do," Slade stated. "Since you've started this deal there's been nesters filed papers on every good site in my range, waiting to rush in as soon as I lose my grip. Do you think I'll let them crowd me out? Not in a thousand years! I'm telling you—I'll break the Three Bar if you keep it up."
"All right!" she said. "And what about the homestead laws?"
"I'm the law out here," he asserted.
It came to her that Slade was fighting on the defensive, that he feared to let the Three Bar succeed and set up a precedent in defiance of the signs that dotted the range.