en 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."

"Here, too!" chorused the riders. "We're all in on this."

They trailed along in single file until they came to the ford. They
reined up sharply. One of them dismounted and dragged the body of
Fadeaway to the bank. They grouped around gazing at the hole in
Fadeaway's shirt.

Shoop turned the body over. "Got it from in front," he said, which was
obvious to their experienced eyes.

"And it took a fast gun to get him," asserted Loring.

The men were silent, each visualizing his own theory of the fight on
the trail and the killing of Fadeaway.

"Jack was layin' a long way from here," said Wingle.

"When you found him," commented Loring.

"Only o