Duncan laughed mockingly. "Arrested! That's good. You've been living where there's law. But there's no law out here; no law to cover cattle stealing, except our own. And then we've got to have the goods. The sheriff won't do anything when cattle are stolen, but he acts mighty sudden when a man's hung for stealing cattle, if the man ain't caught with the goods." "Caught with the goods?" "Caught in the act of stealing. If we catch a man with the goods and hang him there ain't usually anything said." "And you haven't been able to catch these men, Dakota and Doubler, in the act of stealing." "They're too foxy." "If I were manager of this ranch and suspected anyone of stealing any of its cattle, I would catch them!" There was a note of angry impatience in Sheila's voice which caused Duncan to look sharply at her. He reddened, suspecting disparagement of his managerial ability in the speech. "Mebbe," he said, with an attempt at lightness. "But as a general thing nosing out a rustler is a pretty ticklish proposition. Nobody goes about that work with a whole lot of enthusiasm." "Why?" There was scorn in Sheila's voice, scorn in her uplifted chin. But she did not look at Duncan. "Why?" he repeated. "Well, because it's perfectly natural for a man to want to live as long as he can. I don't like them nesters--Dakota especially--and I'd like mighty well to get something on them. But I ain't taking any chances on Dakota." "Why?" Again the monosyllable was pregnant with scorn. "I forgot that you ain't acquainted out here," laughed the manager. "No one is taking any chances with Dakota--not even the sheriff. There's something about the cuss which seems to discourage a man when he's close to him--close enough to do any shooting. I've seen Dakota throw down on a man so quick that it would make you dizzy." "Throw down?" "Shoot at a man. There was a gambler over in Lazette thought to euchre Dakota. A gunman he was, from Texas, and--well, they carried the gambler out. It was done so sudden that nobody saw it." "Killed him?" There was repressed horror in Sheila's voice. "No, he wasn't entirely put out of business. Dakota only made him feel cheap. Creased him." "Creased him?" "Grazed his head with the bullet. Done it intentionally, they say. Told folks he didn't have any desire to send the gambler over the divide; just wanted to show him that when he was playin' with fire he ought to be careful. There ain't no telling what Dakota'd do if he got riled, though." Sheila's gaze was on Duncan fairly, her eyes alight with contempt. "So you are all afraid of him?" she said, with a bitterness that surprised the manager. "Well, I reckon it would amount to about that, if you come right down to the truth," he confessed, reddening a little. "You are afraid of him, too I suppose?" "I reckon it ain't just that," he parried, "but I ain't taking any foolish risks."