"And what makes you so crazy about Flying U grass ?" he pursued.
"We've got to cross that coulee to git to where we're headed for; we got a right to, and we're going to do it." The herder paused and glanced up at Andy sourly.

"We knowed you was a mean outfit; the boss told us so.
And he told us you was blank ca'tridges and we needn't back up just 'cause you raised up on your hind legs and howled a little.

I've had truck with you cowmen before.

I've herded sheep in Wyoming." He walked a few steps with his head down, considering.
"I better go over and talk some sense into the other fellow," he said, looking up at Andy as if all his antagonism had oozed in the fight.

"You ride along this edge, so they won't scatter--we ought to be grazin' 'em along, by rights; only you seem to be in such an all-fired rush--" "You go on and tell that loco son-of-a-gun over there what he's up against," Andy urged.