"No, you don't have to. Nobody has to do anything they don't want to. But we've decided, Rafe, that hereafter you sit on the tail-board. You don't pick up the lines again, see."
"Who's we?" demanded Rafe.
"Craft, Larder and myself."
"You can't do anything!" Contemptuously.
"No? For one thing, we can keep you from shipping so much as a single cow."
"How?"
"Our ranges surround you on three sides, and where we don't fit in, the mountains do. You can't drive through the mountains, and we won't let you drive through us. That's how."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, it's root, hog, or die, feller. You gonna be good?"
"I—I suppose so."