Because they close the water holes and the creeks and claim they are
theirs. It means the end of the open range. That's what it means."

"Of course that's what it means. We'll have to adapt ourselves to it.
You talk foolishness when you make threats to drive out the nesters.
That is the sort of thing Buck Weaver has been trying to do. It's
absurd. The law is back of them. You would only come to trouble, and if
you did succeed others would take their places."

"And rustle our cattle," he added sullenly.

"It isn't proved they are the rustlers. You haven't a shred of evidence.
Perhaps they are, but you should prove it before you make the charge."

"If they aren't, who is?" he flared up.

"I don't know. But whoever it is will be caught and punished some day.
There is no doubt at all about that."

"You talk a heap of foolishness, Phyl," he answered resentfully. "My
notion is they never will be caught. What makes you so sure they will?"

They had been riding down the draw, and at this moment Phyllis looked
up, to see a rider silhouetted against the sky line on the ridge above.

"Oh, you Brill!" she cried, with a wave of her quirt.

The man turned, saw them, and rode slowly down. He nodded, after the
fashion of the range, first to the girl, and then to her brother.