“She shore did, pardner.”
Kales was emphatic.
“Hm-m-m,” mused Roper.
He had seen Mrs. Kirk, and Roper was not overloaded with scruples.
“Freel’s scared,” observed Swede. “He ain’t made no move to take Sarg to the penitentiary yet.”
“Them boys from the Tin-Cup outfit swore they’d hang Sarg if they got a chance,” stated Red, “and Freel ain’t takin’ no chances. They’re sore at the judge for not hangin’ Sarg.
“’Course the sheep are closer to the Tin-Cup than to any of the other outfits, and if the law decides in favor of sheep—blooey! They’ll swarm plumb into Tin-Cup range. ’Course the law’ll only give ’em an even break with the cattle; but the —— law don’t stop to figure that cattle can’t live on an even break with sheep.”
“After that there sermon,” stated Roper piously, “the choir will rise and sing. What in —— do we care what the sheep do to Moon Valley? We’re leavin’ here; sabe?”
“And with freight all paid,” added Kales, grinning. “Tomorrow we all pull out, eh? Me and Dutch’ll pull out from Crescent City after we’ve planted the fact that we’re leavin’ for good. We’ll spring it that Roper and Swede left over Table Rock Pass t’day.
“Mebbe Red and Boots better stay here at the ranch. Might look bad if we all drifted at the same time, eh?