"Yes. Yes, I once tried to reason with him, but—"
"He had funny ideas," Stonecypher pressed his advantage. "I never did understand the old man myself. He used to lecture me on something he called the Man-Animal War. He said one of the worst things in the war was the thousands of bulls that had been tortured to death."
"Peculiar idea. Of course—"
"He claimed bullfights slipped up on this country. Back when it wasn't legal, they spaded up the ground real good. There were movies, and books, and magazines, and foreign broadcasts, all ravin' about how brave and noble it was for a bunch of men to worry and torture a stupid animal like a bull, till he couldn't hardly hold his head up, and then run a sword in 'im."
"Naturally, you—"
"I don't know how many times he told me a bull had more brains than a horse, but less then a jackass. He said bullfightin' wasn't a sport, even if the bull got a man sometimes: and he had the idea the worst thing was the four or five horses, that ever' bull killed, took with 'im. They had some bloodless bullfights in California, and the nut colonies out there like it so good, first thing you know, we really had it. It came to East Tennessee 'cause this was one of the biggest cattle-raisin' sections, before the Lakes took the grazin' land."
"Surely, Stonecypher, you—"
"My father always claimed if the bullfighters were near as brave as they said, they'd take on a really intelligent animal sometimes, like a man-eatin' tiger. He even thought a man was mentalill to fight a bull in the first place." Stonecypher grinned. "No, you don't need to worry about me, ringmaster. I hate to admit it, but the old man is the one who was mentalill."
Oswell revealed all of his steel teeth in a broad smile. "You had me worried!" he wheezed. "Now, your offer."
"I'll go even better," Stonecypher said, "just to show how set I am on gettin' back in the business. If Moe's not brave, I got two yearlin's you can have for free."