Between himself and Singleton there had always been a lack of ordinary cordiality, a constraint closely approaching dislike; but Lawler had never entertained a suspicion that Lefingwell's range boss was dishonest.
Hamlin was a moral weakling, he knew.

Everybody in the Wolf River section knew it.

Hamlin was lazy and shiftless, seemingly contented to drift along in an aimless way, regardless of what happened to him.

There was at Hamlin's feet some of the wealth that other cattlemen of the district were gaining.

He had proved on a quarter-section of good grass land amid plenty of water, and yet he chose to steal cattle rather than raise them.
Lawler's pity for the man was stronger than the resentment he felt.
Hamlin was Ruth's father, though looking at him as he sat dejectedly in the chair, Lawler found it hard to discern the relationship.
"How long has Singleton been buying cattle from you ?" "About a year.