He's in a hole, for sure. I
expect he feels pretty sore with me, too, but I couldn't help it. I
explained how it was to milord, but--you can't persuade an Englishman,
any more than you can a--"
"I think," put in Beatrice firmly, "Sir Redmond did quite right. It
isn't his fault that Mr. Cameron owns more cattle than he can feed. If
he was sent over here to lease the land, it was his duty to do so.
Still, I really am sorry for Mr. Cameron."
"Keith won't sit down and take his medicine if he can help it," Dick
said moodily. "He could sell out, but I don't believe he will. He's more
apt to fight."
"I can't see how fighting will help him," Beatrice returned spiritedly.
"Well, there's one thing," retorted Dick. "If milord wants that fence to
stand he'd better stay and watch it. I'll bet money he won't more than
strike Liverpool till about forty miles, more or less, of Pool fence
will need repairs mighty bad--which it won't get, so far as I'm
concerned."
"Do you mean that Keith Cameron would destroy our fencing?"
Dick grinned. "He'll be a fool if he don't, Trix. You can tell milord
he'd better send for all his traps, and camp right here till that lease
runs out. My punchers will have something to do beside ride fence."
"I shall certainly tell Sir Redmond," Beatrice threatened. "You and Mr.
Cameron hate him just because he's English.
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