Fraser boiled inwardly, but controlled himself. There had been no accusation, nothing to call for defense, and to take it angrily or as an accusation he felt would be to play into Johnny's hands. Being guilty of the very thing which the other had gone so carefully around, made him find the hidden meaning in the heavy circumlocution, and keep quiet about it for fear of revealing the real meaning of the words to the others in the room. He knew how Big Tom would take it, for he knew that his foreman was smouldering like a volcano, charged with the cumulative anger caused by recent events; and he felt sure that the news he would take back to the ranch that night would cause an eruption, and a great one. This was another reason for remaining calm: not knowing what Big Tom might decide to do, it would be well to give Johnny no cause to exercise any unusual caution, or to strike hard and suddenly. So he growled a little as he resumed the play. "That's shore a whole lot of cattle to throw over to anybody, free, but, h--l!" he said, "it ain't no funeral of mine. It's Big Tom's business, 'though I reckon it'll sort of take his breath. Did Arnold say that?" "He's sayin' it through me," answered Johnny quietly. "I'm workin' for him, an' actin' for him, an' I'm usin' my own judgment." Slim lounged into an easier position against the bar and grunted. "Well," he drawled, "we're comin' to th' conclusion that th' round-ups down here has got to be general, spring an' fall. This here maverick business allus is a bad proposition, an' it's worse in th' kind of country that's plentiful on parts of this range. Sherwood is standin' out, set for a general drive. He says for all th' ranches to join hands, sweep th' whole range, do our brandin' an' divide up an' brand th' mavericks accordin' to some fair plan. I suggests dividin' 'em in proportion to th' number of cattle on each ranch, but that's only _my_ idea. He goes even further, an' says that th' runnin' iron an' this brush brandin' we all have been doin' down here has got to be done away with, on th' Double X an' every other ranch in this section. Anybody knows that chutin' 'em, an' stampin' on th' brand is easier, an' that there ain't no honest reason for th' straight iron no more. Texas threw it into th' discard ten years ago or more. We're discardin' it, an' we're goin' to raise th' devil with any outfit that don't foller suit. That's flat, an' goes as it lays, regardless, to th' SV, th' Triangle, an' th' Bar H, with Sherwood's compliments." "What about that nine hundred an' seventy, then?" asked Gurley. "We've got nothin' to say about them, but if they are throwed over, th' rest will be divided," answered Slim. "Bein' th' biggest ranch out here, we stand to lose more than any other by throwin' over them cows to th' SV; but we admits its title to 'em. Tell Big Tom to think it over, an' see us about it before fall."