"But I ain't done nothin'," whined Sundown, lapsing into his old attitude toward the law. "Maybe not. Mr. Loring telephoned me that Fadeaway had been shot and that a man answering your description--a tramp, he said--seemed to know something about it. You never was a puncher. You don't get on or off a cayuse like one. From what I learn you were a Hobo when Jack Corliss gave you a job. That's none of my business. I arrest you as a suspicious character, and I guess I'll have to keep you here till I find out more about Fadeaway's case. Have a cigar?" "Huh! Say, don't you ever get mad?" queried Sundown, impressed by the other's most genial attitude. The sheriff laughed. "Doesn't pay in my business. Now, you just ease up and tell me what you know. It will save time. Did you ever have trouble with Fadeaway?" "Not on your life! I give him all the room he wanted." "Did you know Fernando---one of Loring's herders?" "I seen him onct. He saved me life from bein' killed by a steer. Did he say I done it?" parried Sundown. The sheriff's opinion of Sundown's acumen was disturbed. Evidently this queer individual posing as a cowboy was not such a fool, after all. "No. Have you seen him lately?" "Nope. Chance and me was over to his camp, but he was gone. We kind o' tracked back there from the place where we found Fadeaway." "That so?" "Uhuh. It was like this." And Sundown gave a detailed account of his explorations. When he had finished, the sheriff made a note on the edge of a newspaper. Then he turned to Sundown. "You're either the deepest hand I've tackled yet, or you're just a plain fool. You don't act like a killer." "Killer! Say, mister, I wouldn't kill a bug that was bitin' me 'less'n he wouldn't let go. Why, ask Chance there!" "I wish that dog could talk," said the sheriff, smiling. "Did you know that old Fernando had left the country--crossed the line into New Mexico?" "What? Him?" "Yes. I know about where he is." "Guess his boss fired him for lettin' all the sheep get killed. Guess he had to go somewhere." The sheriff nodded. "So you were going to take a little trip yourself, were you?" "For me boss. You ask him. He can tell you." "I reckon when he finds out where you are he'll come in." "And you're goin' to pinch me?" "You're pinched." "Well, I'm dum clost to gettin' mad. You look here! Do you think I'd be ridin' to Antelope if I done anything like shoot a man? Do you think I'd hand you me gun without sayin' a word? And if you think I didn't shoot Fadeaway, what in hell you pinchin' me for? Ain't a guy got a right to live?" "Yes. Fadeaway had a right to live."