“I think what’s fair for one is fair for another. I don’t like sheep as much as I like cattle. But that’s not the point. The range is free. Suppose y’u had cattle and I had sheep. I’d feel as free to run my sheep anywhere as y’u were to ran your cattle.”
“Right. But what if you throwed your sheep round my range an’ sheeped off the grass so my cattle would hev to move or starve?”
“Shore I wouldn’t throw my sheep round y’ur range,” she declared, stoutly.
“Wal, you’ve answered half of the question. An’ now supposin’ a lot of my cattle was stolen by rustlers, but not a single one of your sheep. What ’d you think then?”
“I’d shore think rustlers chose to steal cattle because there was no profit in stealin’ sheep.”
“Egzactly. But wouldn’t you hev a queer idee aboot it?”
“I don’t know. Why queer? What ’re y’u drivin’ at, Uncle John?”
“Wal, wouldn’t you git kind of a hunch thet the rustlers was—say a leetle friendly toward the sheepmen?”
Ellen felt a sudden vibrating shock. The blood rushed to her temples. Trembling all over, she rose.
“Uncle John!” she cried.