"Alone?"
"Yes."
"Why?" snapped the cattleman.
Shorty's defiant eyes met his. "My business."
"Mine, too, I'll bet a dollar. If you're nestin' in these hills you cayn't have but one business."
"Prove it! Prove it!" retorted Shorty angrily.
"Some day—not now." Crawford turned to Sanders. "What about the horse you looked at, Dave?"
"Same one we've been trailing. The one with the broken shoe."
"That yore horse, Shorty?"
"Maybeso. Maybe not."