"I'll show 'em, the dirty cowards!" he burst out vindictively, addressing his harangue to McIvor. "Did you ever see a cowman that would stand up to a Winchester? Well, I haven't and yet I've seen lots of them. That Slash-knife outfit now is reputed to be a bad one, and they lay claim to the whole upper range; but here's one sheepman that they've never moved yet, and what's more, they never will. I can ride across there any place and they'll give me the trail, they know me as far as they can see me through a telescope. And these herders of mine, though they're nothing but Mexicans, are proper fighting fools--every one. I won't have 'em otherwise; and the first man that weakens I make him walk back to town. We're coming here to-morrow with ten thousand sheep under a lease from Henry Bassett. That gives us a right, don't it? We're running them on shares, and this has always been his range. But if any of them smart gunmen, like they tried to do yesterday, ride in and interfere with my herders; I ain't saying nothing, I'll jest drop off my mule and shoot the matter out, right there!" "That's your privilege," conceded McIvor, "but wouldn't it be better to stay on the east side of Turkey Creek?" "One side or the other--it's nothing to me! This is government land, see? And I'm a U.S. citizen. These dead-lines don't go with me!" McIvor nodded and fell silent, for he knew the Scotch blood, but Grimes was pacing the floor. "They'll draw a dead-lines, will they?" he demanded menacingly; "they'll tell me where I'll go and not go? I'm a free agent, see? I know what's my rights, and I don't give a dam' for the Scarboroughs! Didn't I meet their men yesterday, up on the Canyon Crick trail? Yes, and the whole suffering outfit rode over the top of a mountain to git away from my gun. You couldn't see 'em for dust, they were that anxious to escape me--if they'd had a feather in their hand they'd've flew--and now they send word that they've made a new dead-line, only this time it's Turkey Crick! I'll show 'em a dead-line, and I'll go out and kill a cow every time they kill one of my sheep. They's no law here and I know it, so we'll get back to first principles and fight it out man to man. "If you ever read any poetry you may remember those famous lines about Rob Roy and the good, old simple plan: "'That they should take who have the power And they should keep who can.' "That was the plan back in Scotland for many a long year, and it's the plan out here to-day; and I, for one, will never speak against it, for it has served me well so far." "Apparently so," replied McIvor, who was beginning to turn against him. "I suppose every man follows his own nature." "What do you mean, my friend?" demanded the sheepman truculently. "Don't you think I'm within my rights? Well, what do you mean then about following my own nature--are you one of these cowmen, too?"