When Corliss reappeared, Sundown strode up to him. "This here hoss
belongs to that leetle Mexican on the Apache road, Chico Miguel--said
you knowed him. I was goin' to take him back with my hoss. Now I
reckon I can't. I kind o' liked it over there to his place. I guess I
want my own hoss, Pill."
"I guess you better get something to eat and rest up. You're in bad
shape, Sun."
Sundown shook his head. "I got somethin' to do--after that mebby I can
rest up. Can I have me hoss?"
"Yes, if it'll do you any good. What are you going to do?"
"I got me homesteader papers. I'm goin' to me ranch."
"But you're not outfitted. There's no grub there. You better take it
easy. You'll feel better to-morrow."
"I don't need no outfit. I reckon I'll saddle Pill."
Sundown turned the Mexican's pony into the corral and saddled his own
horse which he led to the bunk-house. "I ain't got no gun," he said.
"The sheriff gent's got mine. Mebby you'd be lendin' me one?"
Wingle stepped to the doorway and stood beside Corliss. "What does he
want, Jack?"
"He's loco. Wants to borrow a gun.
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