Him and his killers can't always keep under cover.

Let 'em come at me about that fence! It's on my land--the Quirt's got a right to fence every foot of land that belongs to 'em." All the way over the ridge and across the flat and up the steep, narrow road along the edge of Spirit Canyon, Brit dwelt upon the probable moves of the Sawtooth.

They would wait, he thought, until the fence was completed and they had made a trail around through the lava rocks.

They would not risk any move at present; they would wait and tacitly accept the fence, or pretend to accept it, as a natural inconvenience.

But Brit did not deceive himself that they would remain passive.