That is why I say that he is a remarkably clever
man, and it is probably the cause of the power he wields that he is able
to do such things. It wouldn't surprise me any if some day we learned
that your visitor was none other than the renowned Whipple himself."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Stella.
"What can we do? We wouldn't know a single member of the gang if we were
to meet him. We don't know where they hang out, and if we did we know
nothing about the Sweet Grass Mountains, and could not go to where they
are. All we can do is to watch the ranch house and the cattle as a cat
watches a mouse, and if anything more, such as the shooting of
Follansbee, occurs, we will have to go on the warpath ourselves. But I
don't want to do that. We are out here to winter feed our cattle, and
not to fight."
"Shore enuff, but yer kin bet yer breeches I'm not goin' ter let no cave
dweller or brush hider tromp onto my moccasins, an' turn ther other
cheek ter be tromped on. Ther first feller o' that outfit I cotch sashay
in' around me I'm goin' ter take a crack at him."
"Go as far as you like when it comes to an act of aggression on the part
of one of them, but don't start anything, Bud, unless you can positively
bring it to a successful end."
"I reckon I'm some of a fox myself.
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