"Deespitefully!--why, humpin' hyenas! Ain't I letting yuh _live_? And do yuh reckon any other man could walk up to me and call me a thief and live long enough to take it back? Just because you're old, and such a blamed fool you go around without a gun on yuh, I'm keepin' my hands off you. I call yuh a coward. You wouldn't a dared to come over here with a gun on yuh and talk the way you've done. You've got me hog-tied. You know it. And damn yuh, I'll fight yuh now with the law--which is the only way a coward will fight. "You've done a heap of chawin' around about the Lorrigans, Scotty. Don't think I ain't heard it. Maybe it's your religion to backbite yore neighbors and say what you wouldn't dare to say to their face with a gun on you so we'd be equal. I've passed it up. I've considered the source and let it go. But when you come belly-achin' around about me stealin' a spotty yearlin'--jest as if there wasn't but one on the Black Rim range!--why, damn it, _you'll prove it_! Do you get that? You'll prove it before a jury, or I'll sue yuh for libel and bust yuh. I don't go much on the law, but by Henry, I'll use it on you!" The Douglas eyes flickered uncertainly, but the Douglas mouth was unyielding. "The law can no be cheatit so easy, Tam Lorrigan. I hae no wush to send ye tae jail--but ye ken weel that wad be the penalty for killin' yon beastie in the willows. I came to settle the matter fair between neighbors, and tae warn ye to cease your evil doings on the range. I wadna see yer woman come tae grief--" "You can cut out that mercy talk, Scotty. And don't try to bring Belle into this. If it comes to a showdown, lemme advise you, you'd better sidestep Belle. The grief would all be yourn, if you and Belle lock horns, and I'm telling yuh so." They had reached the nearest margin of the herd. Cheyenne, a nameless estray from the Wyoming ranges, chanced to be holding herd where the two rode up. At him Tom looked, suspicion for the moment sharpening his glance. "You can ask this man what he knows about any spotted hide over by Squaw Butte," he invited the Douglas stiffly. "He's practically a stranger to the outfit--been here about a month. Maybe his word'll be worth something to yuh--I dunno. You can ask him." Douglas rode over to Cheyenne and said what he had to say. Tom meanwhile held the herd and meditated on the petty injustices of life--perhaps--and wished that a real he-man had come at him the way Douglas had come. It irked Tom much to be compelled to meet hard words with tolerant derision. Toleration was not much of a factor in his life. But since he must be tolerant, he swung his horse to meet the Douglas when the brief conversation with Cheyenne was over. The Douglas head was shaking slowly, owning disappointment.