and it belongs to us and there ain't no stinking sheep men going to take it away from us."
"Have you got a deed to it?" sneered the shepherd.
"That's my business," returned Hank. "It is ours, I tell you, and you have got to get out."
"We have looked up the titles down at Wyanne and it ain't no more yours than it's our'n. Here we are and here we stay," returned the shepherd.
Although Larry had heard much of the strenuousness of the cattle men and their domination of the land, yet he was amazed at his uncle's next words. He was usually a quiet-spoken man with a pleasing voice, though now: it became ominous and his words were hissed through partly set teeth. To Larry it seemed that the two men as they glared at each other were like two savage beasts fighting over some recent kill. And that is just what it really was, it was a case of primeval man asserting by force his right to the land.
"This is my last word to you," hissed Hank Brodie between his teeth. "We've got ten good cow-punchers up at the Crooked Creek ranch and they all own a .45 and some of them tote two. We've got four or five Winchesters kicking around also. We're coming down here to-morrow morning at sunup and if any of you stinking sheep men are around, we'll shoot you so full of holes that you won't be able to cast a shadow. Now take your choice, go or stay."
