"Well, here's my side of it, Jim. Fadeaway had it in for me for firing him. He happened to see me talking to Nellie Loring at Fernando's camp. Later we met up on the old Blue Trail. He said one or two things that I didn't like. I let him have it with the butt of my quirt. He jerked out his gun and hit me a clip on the head. That's all I remember till the boys came along." "You didn't ride as far as the upper ford, that day?" "No. I told Fadeaway I wanted him to come back with me and talk to Loring. I was pretty sure he put the sheep into the canon." "Well, Jack, knowing you since you were a boy, that's good enough for me." "But how about Sundown?" "He stays. How long do you think I'll hold Sundown before Nell Loring drives into Antelope to tell me she can like as not prove he didn't kill Fade?" "But if you know that, why do you hold him?" "To cinch up my ideas, tight. Holding him will make talk. Folks always like to show off what they know about such things. It's natural in 'em." "New Mex. is a comf'table-sized State," commented Shoop from the bed. "And he was raised there," said the sheriff. "He's got friends over the line and so have I. Sent 'em over last week." "Thought Sun was raised back East?" said Shoop, again sitting up. Corliss smiled. "Better give it up, Bud." "Oh, _very_ well!" said Shoop, mimicking a _grande dame_ who had once stopped at Antelope in search for local color. "Anyhow, you got to set a Mexican to catch a Mexican when he's hidin' out with Mexicans." With this bit of advice, Shoop again relapsed to silence. "Going back to the Concho to-morrow?" queried Banks. "No. Got a little business in town." "I heard Loring was due here to-morrow." The sheriff stated this casually, yet with intent. "I was talking with Art Kennedy 'bout two hours ago--" "Kennedy the land-shark?" queried Shoop. "The same. He said something about expecting Loring." Bud Shoop had never aspired to the distinction of being called a diplomat, but he had an active and an aggressive mind. With the instinct for seizing the main chance by its time-honored forelock, he rose swiftly. "By Gravy, Jack! I gone and left them things in the buckboard!" "Oh, they'll be all right," said Corliss easily. Then he caught his foreman's eye and read its meaning. His nod to Shoop was all but imperceptible. "I dunno, Jack. I'd hate to lose them notes." "Notes?" And the sheriff grinned. "Writing a song or starting a bank, Bud?" "Song. I was composin' it to Jack, drivin' in." And the genial Bud grabbed his hat and swept out of the room.