Corliss assumed a nonchalant air. "Shake, pal! It's a long time since we been in a wreck, eh?" Sundown was silent, studying the other's hardened features. "Billy!" he reiterated, "what you doin' here?" Corliss laughed nervously. "What are you doing here?" he retorted,--"in the office of the Concho, at midnight?" "I was comin' to get flour and beans for the camp--" he began. Corliss interrupted him. "Sounds good, that! But they don't keep the grub here. Guess you made a mistake." Sundown's face was expressionless. "Guess you made the mistake, Billy. I thought you was--dead." "Not on your tin-type, Sun." "I never thought you was crooked, Billy." "Crooked!" flashed Corliss. "Say, you--you forget it. I'm here to get what's coming to me. Jack turned me down, so I'm going to take what's mine." "Mebby it's yours, but you ain't gettin' it right," said Sundown. "I--I--never thought you was--" "Oh, cut that out! You didn't used to be so dam' particular." "I never swiped a cent in me life, Billy." "Well, forget it. I'm in a hurry. You go ahead and get the chuck. Here are the keys to the store-room--and beat it. Just forget that you saw me; that's all." Sundown shook his head. "I ain't forgettin' that easy, Billy. 'Sides, I'm workin' for the Concho, now. They're treatin' me fine--and I reckon I got to be square." "You mean you're going to squeal--going back on your old pal, eh?" Sundown's face expressed conflicting emotions. He straightened his lean shoulders. "I tell you, Billy; if you beat it now, they won't be nothin' to squeal about." "I'm going to." And Corliss stepped toward the safe. "Just hold that light this way a minute." Sundown complied, and Corliss thought that the other had overcome his scruples. Corliss hastily drew a small canvas sack from the safe and stuffed it into his pocket. Sundown backed toward the door. Corliss got to his feet. "Well, so-long, Sun. Guess I'll light out." "Not with that," said Sundown. "I ain't no preacher, but I ain't goin' to see you go straight to hell and me do nothin'. Mebby some of that dough is yourn. I dunno. But somebody's goin' to get pinched for takin' it. Bein' a Bo, it'll be me." "So that's what's worrying you, eh? Scared you'll get sent over for this. Well, you won't. You haven't got anything on you." "'T ain't that, Billy. It's you." Corliss laughed. "You're getting religion, too. Well, I never thought you'd go back on me." "I ain't. I was always your friend, Billy." Corliss hesitated. The door behind Sundown moved ever so little. Corliss's eyes held Sundown with unwinking gaze. Slowly the door swung open. Sundown felt rather than heard a presence behind him. Before he could turn, something crashed down on his head. The face of his old friend, intense, hard, desperate, was the last thing imaged upon his mind as the room swung round and he dropped limply to the floor.