‘Yuh did, eh? I suppose you know yore son is a murderer.’
‘I don’t know any such a damn thing! If he killed Ben Leach, it was in self-defense.’
‘Men who kill in self-defense don’t usually run away.’
‘When everybody’s ag’in’ ’em, they do.’
‘You’re crazy.’
Morgan turned his back and started away, but stopped and came back to Lane.
‘We’re through fooling with you, Lane,’ he said. ‘We’ll find your son and make an example of him and it won’t take us long to do it either. And if you’re wise, you’ll pull out of this country as fast as you can.’
‘If you’re through, I’d like to say a few words, Morgan,’ said the old man coldly. ‘That ranch belongs to me now. The line runs about two hundred yards this side of the ranch-house. And when you or yore men ride my way, yuh better estimate distance pretty close.’
‘Drawin’ a deadline, eh?’
‘Agin’ the 6X6. And another thing, Morgan; yesterday I found an orejano with my brand on it. I brand on the left hip, but this calf was branded on the right hip. I suppose yore punchers, or you, forgot where I branded. They tell me you got yore start by pickin’ up orejanos, Morgan; so I just heated an iron and run the 6X6 on its left shoulder, passin’ it back to you.’