The wizened old cowboy did not look like much, but the hand everyone knew as Jug knew his trade. He knew horses and he knew cows. Something else he knew was honour. Jug rode for the brand and believed in giving everything to it. He could be contrary at times but he tried - he really did try - to do what was right. Now things at the M Bar C were not right. The numbers in the tally book were a lie. Someone was claiming many more beeves lost to winter kill than actually died. The sensible thing would be to keep his mouth shut. And keep his job. But that would not be the honourable thing.