THE BATTLE OF THE FLEECEMichael Draycott rubbed his hands together as he saw the five shrink back. They were not used to such frank and instant challenge. Hardcastle had reminded them, moreover, of what he had done to certain men of theirs; and they looked on with sullen wonder as Brant brought up the twenty ewes.
It was Jake Bramber who first spoke. “Leave us those ewes, and maybe we’ll call it quits.”
“Quits?”
“There’s been a long peace between you Logie Folk and ours. You wouldn’t break it for a matter of a few sheep?”
“He’s talking sense, Master,” quavered Geordie Wiseman. “Let him have ’em, and save us all from being murdered every night of our lives.”
A laugh went up; but Hardcastle was in no mood for merriment.
“There are two roads, Geordie,” he said sharply—“to Logie or the W
