The Quarrel
Lance Dunning flipped the ash from his cigar. “Who are you?”
“I am just a plain, every-day civil engineer, but you must not talk false representations in any contract drawn under my hand.”
“I am talking facts. Whispering Smith may have rigged the joker—I don’t know. Whoever rigged it, it has been rigged all right.”
“Any charge against Whispering Smith is a charge against me. He is not here to defend himself, but he needs no defence. You have charged me already with misleading surveys. I was telephoned for this morning to come over to see why you had held up our work, and your men cover me with rifles while I am riding on a public road.”
“You have been warned, or your men have, to keep off this ranch. Your man Stevens cut our wires this morning”
“As he had a perfect right to do on our right of way.”
“If you think so, stranger, go ahead again!”
“Oh, no! We won’t have civil war—not right away, at least. And if you and your men have threatened and browbeaten me enough for to-day, I will go.”
“Don’t set foot on the Stone Ranch again, and don’t send any men here to trespass, mark you!”
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