I yelled at him: 'No, by God, they're not! My record heah an' that of my people is open.

The least I can say for you, Greaves, an' your crowd, is that your records fade away on dim trails.' Then he said, nasty-like, 'Wal, if you could work out all the dim trails in the Tonto you'd shore be surprised.' An' then I roared.

Shore that was the chance I was lookin' for.

I swore the trails he hinted of would be tracked to the holes of the rustlers who made them.

I told him I had sent for you an' when you got heah these slippery, mysterious thieves, whoever they were, would shore have hell to pay.