"Where's brother Will this mornin', Mary?" he said.
Sanderson appeared in the doorway behind Mary.
"You could see him if you was half lookin'," he said slowly.
"So I could," guffawed Dale. "But if there's a pretty girl around——"
"You come here on business, Dale?" interrupted Sanderson. "Because if you did," he went on before Dale could answer, "I'd be glad to get it over."
"Meanin' that you don't want me to be hangin' around here no longer than is necessary, eh?" said Dale.
"You've said a heap," drawled Sanderson.
"Well, it won't take a long time," Dale returned. "It's just this. I've got word from Las Vegas that you've swore to an affidavit sayin' that you're Will Bransford. That's all right—I ain't got nothin' to say about that. But there's a law about brands.
"Your dad registered his brand—the Double A. But that don't let you out. Accordin' to the law you've got to do your registerin' same as though the brand had never been registered before. Bein' the only law around here—me bein' a deputy sheriff—I've got to look out for that end of it.
"An' so, if you'll just sign this here blank, with your name and address, specifyin' your brand, why, we'll call it all settled."