“Not when I’m inside and you don’t have chance.”
“’Twas a place about like this I drove four thousand of your sheep over last week. With sheep worth what they are I’m afraid it must have cost y’u quite a bit. Not that y’u’ll miss it where you are going,” he hastened to add.
“It was very like you to revenge yourself on dumb animals.”
“Think so?” The “King’s” black gaze rested on him. “Y’u’ll sing a different song soon Mr. Bannister. It’s humans I’ll drive next time and don’t y’u forget it.”
“If you get the chance,” amended his cousin gently.
“I’ll get the chance. I’m not worrying about that. And about those sheep—any man that hasn’t got more sense than to run sheep in a cow country ought to lose them for his pig-headedness.
“Those sheep were on the right side of the dead-line. You had to cross it to reach them.” Their owner’s steady eyes challenged a denial.
“Is that so? Now how do y’u know that? We didn’t leave the herder alive to explain that to y’u, did we?”
“You admit murdering him?”
“To y’u, dear cousin. Y’u see, I have a hunch that maybe y’u’ll go join your herder right soon. Y’u’ll not do much talking.”