you?"

The cowboy's assertion was so palpably an insult that old Fernando's
anger overcame his caution. He stepped forward threateningly.
Fadeaway's gun was out and a splash of dust leaped up at Fernando's
feet. The herder turned and ran. Fadeaway laughed and swung away at a
lope.

When he arrived at the Concho he unsaddled, turned his pony into the
corral, and called to Chance. He was at the water-trough washing the
dog's muzzle when John Corliss appeared. Fadeaway straightened up. He
knew what was coming and knew that he deserved it. The effects of his
conviviality at the Blue had worn off, leaving him in an ugly mood.

Corliss looked him over from head to heel. Then he glanced at the dog.
Chance turned his head down and sideways, avoiding his master's eye.
Fadeaway laughed.

"You get your time!" said Corliss.

"You're dam' right!" retorted Fadeaway.

"And you're damned wrong! Chance knows better than to tackle sheep
unless he's put up to it. You needn't explain. Bud will give you your
time."

Then Corliss turned to Shoop who had just ridden in.

"Chain that dog up and keep him chained up! And give Fadeaway his
time, right up to the minute!"

Shoop dropped easily from the saddle, led his horse toward the corral,
and whistled a sprightly ditty as he unsaddled him.

Fadeaway rolled a cigarette and strolled over to the bunk-house where
he retailed his visit and its climax to a group of interested punchers.

"So he tied the can onto you, eh? And for settin' Chance on the sheep?
He ought to be much obliged to you, Fade. They ain't room for sheep
and cattle both on this here range. We're gettin' backed plumb into
the sunset."

Fadeaway nodded to the puncher who had spoken.

"And ole man Loring's just run in twenty thousand head from New Mex.,"
continued the puncher. "Wonder how Corliss likes that?"

"Don' know--and dam' 'f I care. If a guy can't have a little sport
without gettin' fired for it, why, that guy don't work for the Concho.
The Blue's good enough for me and I can get a job ridin' for the Blue
any time I want to cinch up."

"Well, Fade, I reckon you better cinch up pronto, then," said Shoop who
had just entered. "Here's your time. Jack's some sore, believe me!"

"Sore, eh? Well, before he gets through with me he'll be sorer. You
can tell him for me."

"'Course I _can_--but I ain't goin' to. And I wouldn't if I was you.
No use showin' your hand so early in the game." And