“Price of sheep good this week?” Cullison asked amiably.
“I didn’t come here to discuss the price of sheep with you.” Fendrick spoke harshly. A dull anger against the scheme of things burned in him. For somehow he had reached an impasse from which there was neither advance nor retreat.
“No. Well, you’re right there. What I don’t know about sheep would fill several government reports. Of course I’ve got ideas. One of them is——”
“I don’t care anything about your ideas. Are you going to sign this relinquishment?”
Luck’s face showed a placid surprise. “Why no, Cass. Thought I mentioned that before.”
“You’d better.” The sheepman’s harassed face looked ugly enough for anything.
“Can’t figure it out that way.”
“You’ve got to sign it. By God, you’ve no option.”
“No?” Still with pleasant incredulity.
“Think I’m going to let you get away from here now. You’ll sign and you’ll promise to tell nothing you know against us.”