“I’m opposed to the ranchmen on some points. You know how I feel; and of course I shall have to be guided by what I think is right. I don’t see how I can do anything else.”
“Uncle Philip says certain bills will come up, aimed at the free range; and he declares that if the free range is taken away or curtailed he will have to go out of business. He can’t fence against everybody.”
“On the other hand, what about the farmers?”
“There aren’t so very many of them, and their holdings are small. They might fence their land. The ranchmen were here first. You’ll remember that?”
“I’m not likely to forget it.” He settled back easily in his chair. “That’s been dinned in my ears a good deal, already.”
“It’s a serious matter,” she urged. “My sympathies are with the ranchmen; because I’m a ranch girl, I suppose, and have always lived on a ranch.”
“And it’s because I’ve seen so much of ranching that my sympathies are not with the ranchmen, aside from Mr. Davison himself. I should dislike to do anything to injure him, or displease him. But the ranching business, as it is now carried on, is, I fancy, the thing around which the fight in Denver will rage, if there is any fight. You know yourself, Lucy, that in a certain sense the ranchmen are lawbreakers. The trouble is, Mr. Davison doesn’t stand alone. It is not any one ranchman, but the system.”
“That’s why I’m disturbed by the situation.”
“A long time ago,” he said, seeming to change the subject, “you asked me to go to your uncle and put to him a certain momentous question. His answer was virtually a command that I should do something and become something. This opportunity has come, and it would be a weakness not to make the most of it. I shall trust that I won’t have to do anything to turn your uncle against me completely; but,” he regarded her earnestly, “I hope in any event nothing can ever come between you and me.”
He arose and stood beside her.