“You’re just a couple of kids,” Sutherland repeated stubbornly. “I won’t hear of it. I don’t know whether you’re the real thing or a false alarm, Tyler. I don’t want to seem arbitrary, but you got to put this thing out of your mind if you work for me.” Robin shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he answered soberly. “I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to, even to please you. I’d like you to think I was the real thing. I don’t know how I can do it any more than I have been doin’. I’ve had my heart set on her ever since the first time I saw her--an’ I think it’s the same with her. I’ll play fair, but I won’t back down an inch where she’s concerned.” “You’ll do this,” Sutherland said decisively. “You won’t see her no more till this Shining Mark business is settled. Then you’ll have to show me you’re capable of handlin’ a big cow outfit, top an’ bottom, inside out, before I’ll hear of any marryin’. I’ve only the one kid. I’ve raised her well. I got to make sure she’s makin’ no blunder.” Some instinctive wisdom forbade Robin taking issue with that. He rebelled against Sutherland’s attitude--yet saw dimly a certain justice on the older man’s side. So he held his peace where his feelings urged him to headlong defiance. He had had to be patient before. He could be patient now. And Sutherland, as if he had issued an edict which could not be gainsaid, returned to the business in hand. “So,” said he, “you took that five thousand dollars to buy the T Bar S? What’s the idea, anyhow?” “I did and I didn’t,” Robin brought his mind back to cattle and Shining Mark. “I went up to Helena prospectin’. I ran a sort of whizzer on old Jim Bond and found out what I wanted to be sure of. Mark owns the T Bar S right enough, did from the beginnin’. Bond’s just a cover, an’ he admitted that. Then I crossed the Missouri an’ worked some range. I’ve still got your check. I didn’t buy ’em, of course. I thought maybe I could do that, an’ ball Mark up that way. But I didn’t need to. I was simply runnin’ another bluff on Steele because you gave me a good chance. I couldn’t sell the T Bar S to you, lawful. But thinkin’ I might’ll make him do _somethin’_. I don’t know but you could put him in the pen right now--since he’s claimed ownership. As a matter of fact, by actual count, I’ve got six hundred odd T Bar S cattle in my day herd right now, at Shadow Butte. That number just naturally proves most of ’em stolen. A hundred and fifty head mixed stock don’t double up twice in two years.” Sutherland grunted something unintelligible. He ran his stubby fingers through his grizzled hair and looked at Robin. He did not say Robin had done well or ill. He simply looked--deeply interested, very thoughtful. “There’s a few more I expect, scattered around,” Robin continued. “Do you want me to get ’em all?” Sutherland didn’t answer that question directly.