Jean refused to consider the old, fatal law that at certain wild times and wild places in the West certain men had to pass away to change evil conditions.
"Wal, Jean, ride around the range with the boys," said the rancher.
"Meet some of my neighbors, Jim Blaisdell, in particular.

Take a look at the cattle.

An' pick out some hosses for yourself." "I've seen one already," declared Jean, quickly.

"A black with white face.

I'll take him." "Shore you know a hoss.