What do you know about this?"
Sundown bit his nails and glowered at Corliss. "God A'mighty sent
me--" he began.
With a swift gesture Corliss interrupted. "You're working for the
Concho. Was he dead when you found him?"
Sundown slowly raised his arm and pointed across the mesa.
Corliss fingered his belt and bit his lip impatiently.
"A herder--over there to my ranch--done it. Sinker told me--'fore he
crossed over. Said it was 'Sandro. Said he had orders not to shoot.
He tried to bluff 'em off, for they was bringin' sheep to the
water-hole. He said to tell you."
Corliss and Wingle turned from looking at Sundown and gazed at each
other. "If that's right--" And the rancher hesitated.
"I reckon it's right," said Wingle. And he stooped and together they
lifted the body and laid it across the cowboy's horse.
Sundown watched them with burning eyes. "We'll ride back home," said
Corliss, motioning to him.
"Home? Ain't you goin' to do nothin'?"
Corliss shook his head. Sundown slowly mounted and followed them to
the Concho. He watched them as they carried Sinker to the bunkhouse.
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