Dawdling along in the barred sunshine, at peace with himself and the pleasant solitudes, Sundown relaxed and fell to dreaming of Andalusian castles builded in far forests of the south, and of some Spanish Penelope--possibly not unlike the Senorita Loring--who waited his coming with patient tears and rare fidelity. "Them there true-be-doors," he muttered, "like Billy used to say, sure had the glad job--singin' and wrastlin' out po'try galore! A singin'-man sure gets the ladies. Now if I was to take on a little weight--mebby . . ." His weird soliloquy was broken by a sharp and excited bark. Chance was standing in the trail, and beyond him there was something . . . Sundown, anticipating more turkeys, slid from his horse without delay. He stalked stealthily toward the quivering dog. Then, dropping the reins, he ran to Corliss, knelt beside him, and lifted his head. He called to him. He ripped the rancher's shirt open and felt over his heart. "They killed me boss! They killed me boss!" he wailed, rising and striding back and forth in impotent excitement and grief. He did not know where to look for water. He did not know what to do. A sudden fury at his helplessness overcame him, and he mounted and rode down the trail at a wild gallop. Fortunately he was headed in the right direction. Wingle, Bud Shoop, and several of the men were holding a heated conference with old man Loring when Sundown dashed into the Concho. Trembling with rage and fear he leaped from his horse. "They killed the boss!" he cried hoarsely. "Up there--in the woods." "Killed who? Where? Slow down and talk easy! Who's killed?" volleyed the group. "Me boss! Up there on the trail with his head bashed in! Chance and me found him layin' on the trail." The men swung to their saddles. "Better come along, Loring," said Shoop, riding close to the old sheep-man. "Looks like they was more 'n one side to this deal. And you, too, Sun." The riders, led by the gesticulating and excited Sundown, swung out to the road and crossed to the forest. Shoop and Hi Wingle spurred ahead while the others questioned Sundown, following easily. When they arrived at the scene of the fight, Corliss was sitting propped against a tree with Shoop and Wangle on either side of him. Corliss stared stupidly at the men. "Who done it?" asked Wingle. "Fadeaway," murmured the rancher. Loring, in the rear of the group, laughed ironically. Shoop's gun jumped from its holster and covered the sheep-man. "If one of your lousy herders done this, he'll graze clost to hell to-night with the rest of your dam' sheep!" he cried. "Easy, Bud!" cautioned Wingle. "The boss ain't passed over yet. Bill, you help Sinker here get the boss back home. The rest of you boys hit the trail for the Blue. Fadeaway is like to be up in that country." "Ante up, Loring!" said Shoop, mounting his horse. "I'll see your hand if it takes every chip in the stack."