"Maybe I better go along and ride herd on him." Still, he did not go, and Irish presently merged into the dusky distance.
As is often the case with a family's black sheep, his intentions were the best, even though they might have been considered unorthodox.

While the Happy Family took it for granted that he was gone because an old thirst awoke within him, Irish was thinking only of the welfare of the outfit.

He did not tell them, because he was the sort who does not prattle of his intentions, one way or the other.

If he did what he meant to do there would be time enough to explain; if he failed there was nothing to be said.
Irish had thought a good deal about the building of that fence, and about the problem of paying for enough wire and posts to run the fence straight through from Meeker's south line to the north line of the Flying U.He had figured the price of posts and the price of wire and had come somewhere near the approximate cost of the undertaking.

He was not at all sure that the Happy Family had faced the actual figures on that proposition.