You called me something! Get off that horse or I'll pull you off!" "Aw, yuh don't want to mind--" began a tall, lean man pacifically; but he of the high nose stopped him with a wave of the hand, his eyes still measuring the face, the form and the fighting spirit of one Bud Birnie, standing with his coat off, quivering with rage.
"I guess I'm in the wrong, young fellow--I DID holler 'Tie 'im down.' But if you'd ever been around this outfit any you 'd have known I didn't mean it literal." He stopped and suddenly he laughed.

"I've been yellin' 'Tie 'im down' for two years and more, when a critter breaks outa the bunch, and nobody was ever fool enough to tackle it before.

It's just a sayin' we've got, young man.

We--" "What about the name you called me ?" Bud was still advancing slowly, not much appeased by the explanation.

"I don't give a darn about the steer.
You said tie him, and he's tied.