When I slapped him on the jaw, and he stood there and took it, I saw his game.

He had a witness to swear I hit him and he didn't hit back.

And when I saw them Dots in our field again, I knew, just as well as if Dunk had told me, that he was kinda hoping we'd kill a herder or two so he could cinch us good and plenty.

I don't say," he qualified with a rueful grin, "that Dunk went into the sheep business just to get r-re-venge, as they say in shows.

But if he can make money running sheep--and he can, all right, because there's more money in them right now than there is in cattle--and at the same time get a good whack at the Flying U, he's the lad that will sure make a running jump at the chance." He spat upon the burnt end of his cigarette stub from force of the habit that fear of range fires had built, and cast it petulantly from him; as if he would like to have been able to throw Dunk and his sheep problem as easily out of his path.
"So I wish you boys would hang onto yourselves when you hear a sheep blatting under your window," he summed up his unburdening whimsically.
"As Bud said this morning, you can't hang a man for telling a sheepherder you'll take off his shoes.