He shrunk beneath her steady gaze. He released her arm and she stepped up to Corliss. "I'm sorry, John," she said, and offered her hand. "You heard it all, Nell. I'd do anything to save you all this, if I could." "Anything?" "Yes." "Well, try and get Will--to--stop drinking. He--I heard all about it. I can't do anything to help. You ought to look after him. He's your brother. He's telling folks in Antelope that you refused to help him. Is that so?" "I refused to give him two hundred dollars to blow in if that's what you mean." "Did you quarrel with Will?" "No. I asked him to come home. I knew he wouldn't." "Yes. And I think I know how you went at it. I wish I could talk to him." "I wish you would. You can do more with him than anybody." Loring strode toward Corliss. The girl turned to her father. He raised his arm and pointed toward the road. "You git!" he said. She reached up and patted his grizzled cheek. Then she clung to him, sobbing. CHAPTER VIII AT "THE LAST CHANCE" The afternoon following the day of his discharge from the Concho, Fadeaway rode into Antelope, tied his pony to the hitching-rail in front of "The Last Chance," and entered the saloon. Several men loafed at the bar. The cowboy, known as "a good spender when flush," was made welcome. He said nothing about being out of employment, craftily anticipating the possibility of having to ask for credit later, as he had but a half-month's pay with him. He was discussing the probability of early rains with a companion when Will Corliss entered the place. Fadeaway greeted him with loud, counterfeit heartiness, and they drank together. Their talk centered on the Concho. Gradually they drew away from the group at the bar. Finally Corliss mentioned his brother. Fadeaway at once became taciturn. Corliss noticed this and questioned the puncher. "Had a row with Jack?" he asked. "Between you and me, I did. He fired me, couple of days ago." "Full?" "Nope. Chance killed one of Loring's sheep. John hung it onto me, seein' Chance was with me. Guess John's gettin' religion." Corliss laughed, and his lips twisted to a sneer. "Guess he is. I tried to touch him for two hundred of my own money and he turned me down. Maybe I like it." "Turned you down, eh! That's what I call nerve! And you been away three year and more. Reckon, by the way the Concho is makin' good, you got more'n two hundred comin'. She's half yours, ain't she?" "Yes. And I'm going to get my share. He told me I could have a job--that he was short-handed. What do you think of that! And I own half the Concho! I guess I'd like to ride range with a lot of--well, you understand, Fade. I never liked the Concho and I never will. Let's have another. No. This is on me." Again they drank and Corliss became more talkative. He posed as one wronged by society in general and his brother especially.