Caldwell exchanged glances with his companions.  “I reckon we’ve been watchin’ you, Lawler.  We seen you ride into town on Red King, an’ we seen you go over to the station from Warden’s office.”

“Watching me?” queried Lawler; “what for?”

“Wall, I reckon we wanted to see how you took it.”

“Took what?”

“What Warden an’ Simmons had to say to you.  We got ours—­me yesterday; Barthman an’ Littlefield this mornin’; an’ Corts, Sigmund, an’ Lester the day before yesterday.  I reckon the whole section will get it before long.  Looks like they’re tryin’ to squeeze us.  How many steers did you sell to Warden at twenty-five?”

Lawler grinned.

“An’ Simmons?” said Caldwell, gleefully.

“No cars.”

“Seems Simmons ain’t makin’ no exceptions.  We’ve all heard the same story.  We knowed you’d be in, an’ we sort of waited around, wonderin’ what you’d do about it.  We didn’t bring no cattle over, for we hadn’t made no arrangement with Jim Lefingwell—­like you done—­an’ we didn’t want to stampede Warden.”

Lawler told them what had occurred in his interview with Warden.

“I reckon Warden’s the liar, all right,” declared Caldwell; “Jim Lefingwell’s word was the only contract anyone ever needed with him.”  He looked keenly at Lawler.  “What you aimin’ to do?” he questioned.

“I’ve been thinking it over,” said Lawler.

“You ain’t figgerin’ to lay down to the cusses?” Caldwell’s voice was low and cold.

Lawler looked straight at him, smiling.  Caldwell laughed, and the others grinned.

“Lawler, we knowed you wouldn’t,” declared Caldwell; “but a man’s got a right to ask.  Right here an’ now somethin’ has got to be done.  Looks to me as if we’ve got to play this game to a showdown, an’ we might as well start right now.  They’re ain’t none of us men goin’ to let Gary Warden an’ the railroad company run our business; but there’s a few owners around here that ain’t got no stomach for a fight, an’ they’d sell to Warden for ten dollars rather than have any trouble.  Them’s the guys we’ve got to talk mighty plain to.  For if they go to sellin’ for what they can get, they’ll make it allfired uncomfortable for us.”

“This is a free country, Caldwell.  So far as I’m concerned every man runs his own ranch and sells for what he thinks is a fair price.  If we go to interfering with them, we’d be as bad as Warden and the railroad company.”

“Lawler, you’re right,” agreed Caldwell, after reflecting a moment.  “I didn’t realize that, at first.  A man don’t think, when he’s mad clear through.  But it’s mighty plain—­we’ve got to stand on our own feet, if we stand at all.”

Barthman, a tall, lean-faced man, cleared his throat.