"You say they was no burros at the camp—no tarp, or grub, or nothin'?"
"Nope. Nothin' but a dead fire," replied Sundown.
"Any sheep?"
"Mebby four or five. Didn't count 'em."
"Huh! Wonder where the rest of the greaser's herd is grazin'?"
"I dunno. I rode straight acrost to here."
"Looks mighty queer to me," commented the foreman. "I take it that Fernando's lit out."
"Will they pinch the boss?" queried Sundown.
"I don' know. Anyhow, they can't prove it on him. Even if Jack did—and I don't mind sayin' it to you—plug Fade, he did it to keep from gettin' plugged hisself. Do you reckon I'd let any fella chloroform me with the butt of a .45 and not turn loose? I tell you, if Jack had been a-goin' to get Fade right, you'd 'a' found 'em closter together. And that ain't all. If Jack had wanted to get Fade, you can bet he wouldn't got walloped on the head first. The gun that got Fade weren't packed by a puncher."
"Will they be any more shootin'?" queried Sundown.