His face was dark with passion, but after a few minutes' pause he drew rein and rode away.
"Another butter maker," he said to his men as he slipped from the saddle at his own door, "some ten miles up the river." "Where ?" "Next to Pratt's.

I reckon it's that brother o' his he's been talking about.

They cut my wires and squatted on the Rosebud flat." "Give the word and we'll run 'em out," said one of his men.

"Every son-of-a-gun of 'em." Williams shook his head.

"No, that won't do.