"I haven't!" flashed Corliss. "Try me!" "And make a get-away," continued the cowboy. "I wouldn't want to see you pinched." "I'll take a chance, if you will," said Corliss, now assuming, as Fadeaway had intended, the role of leader in the proposed robbery. "How you expect to get clear--when they find it out?" "I could get old man Soper to hide me out till I could get to Sagetown. He'll do anything for money. I could be on the Limited before the news would get to Antelope." "And if you got pinched, first thing you'd sing out 'Fadeaway,' and then me for over the road, eh?" "Honest, Fade. I'll swear that I won't give you away, even if I get caught. Here's my hand on it." "Give me nine hundred and I'll go you," said Fadeaway, shaking hands with his companion. Corliss hesitated. Was the risk worth but half the money involved? "Five's a whole lot, Fade." "Well, seein' you're goin' to do the gettin' at it, why, mebby I'd risk it for five hundred. I dunno." "You said you'd stand by a pal, Fade. Now's your chance." "All right. See here, Bill. You cut out the booze all you can to-day. Foot it out to the Beaver Dam to-night and I'll have a hoss for you. We can ride up the old canon trail. Nobody takes her nowadays, so we'll be under cover till we hit the ford. We can camp there back in the brush and tackle her next evenin'. So-long." Fadeaway was downstairs and out on the street before Corliss realized that he had committed himself to a desperate and dangerous undertaking. He recalled the expression in Fadeaway's eyes when they had shaken hands. Unquestionably the cowboy meant business. CHAPTER IX SUNDOWN'S FRIEND Bud Shoop was illustrating, with quaint and humorous gestures and adjectives, one of his early experiences as Ranger on the Apache Reservation. The men, grouped around the night-fire, smoked and helped the tale along with reminiscent suggestions and ejaculations of interest and curiosity. In the midst of a vivid account of the juxtaposition of a telephone battery and a curious yet unsuspicious Apache, Shoop paused in the recital and gazed out across the mesa. "It's the boss," he said, getting to his feet. "Wonder what's up?" Corliss rode into camp, swung from the saddle, and called to Shoop. The men gazed at each other, nodded, and the words "Loring" and "sheep," punctuated their mutterings. Shoop and Corliss talked together. Then the foreman called to Hi Wingle, asking him how the "chuck" was holding out. "Runnin' short on flour and beans, Bud. Figured on makin' the Concho to-morrow." Corliss and his foreman came to the fire. "Boss says we're goin' to bush here the rest of this week," and Corliss nodded. "I'm expecting company on the west side," explained Corliss, The men gazed at each other knowingly. "All right," said Wingle. "Four sacks of flour and a sack of frijoles'll see us through. Got enough other stuff."