“We don’t aim to be nosey, Mr. Peck,” says Hank, “but we’d admire to hear a little more about them sheep.”
“What sheep?” I asks, surprised-like.
“Old Testament told me,” says Hank. “He spoke about you going to start a herd here and——”
“I thanks you for the compliment,” says I. “It seems nice to be mistaken for a capitalist, Hank, but what I wants to know is this; how long since have you been taking the word of a shepherd? Do I need to deny it?”
“Old Testament must have lied, Hank,” states the old man. “He must have been crazy to state such a thing. Somebody’s crazy anyway.”
“That’s what I said,” squeaks Scenery. “Hen Peck couldn’t buy a pair of wool socks.”
They all nods sort of agreeable-like, and he drives on.
“After a while, when there ain’t nobody around to interrupt us, I’m going to ask you a few questions, Henry,” states Chuck, solemn-like.
“You better bring a witness,” says I. “All I wants is an uninterested third party present so I can prove I shot in self-defense.”
We pulls up to the ranch. The front door is open and two rigs are tied out in front. We pilgrims up to the door, and are greeted with some sight.