You can't run that bunch.

The only way you can handle them is to get up early an' come back late.
Sayin' little, but sawin' wood.

Hard work." Jack Belllounds did not evince any sign of assimilating the seriousness of his father's words.
"I'll show them," he said.

"They'll find out who's boss.

Oh, I'm aching to get into boots and ride and tear around." Belllounds stroked his grizzled beard and regarded his son with mingled pride and doubt.