"Everybody in the Tonto has heerd old Gass Isbel sent fer his boy." "Well then, why did you ask ?" inquired Jean, bluntly.
"Reckon I wanted to see what you'd say." "So?
All right.

But I'm not carin' very much for what YOU say." Their glances locked steadily then and each measured the other by the intangible conflict of spirit.
"Shore thet's natural," replied the rider.

His speech was slow, and the motions of his long, brown hands, as he took a cigarette from his vest, kept time with his words.

"But seein' you're one of the Isbels, I'll hev my say whether you want it or not.

My name's Colter an' I'm one of the sheepmen Gass Isbel's riled with." "Colter.