for water, so he had allowed the sheep to drink at the water-hole.”  Then he paused, anticipating the obvious question to which he made answer:  “Yes.  The water-hole ranch is me ranch.  I filed on her the same day that you and Miss Loring come to Usher.  Incondescent to that I was in the calaboose at Antelope.  Somebody tole the sheriff that I was a suspicious character.  Mebby I am, judgin’ from the outside, but inside I ain’t.  You can’t always tell what the works is like by the case, I ain’t got no hard feelin’s for nobody, and I’m wishful that folks don’t have no hard feelin’s ag’in’ me or anybody else.”

Loring listened in silence.  Finally he spoke.  “I’ll take care of my sheep.  I’ll send for ’em to-day.  Looks like you’re tryin’ to play square, but you don’t figure in this deal.  Jack Corliss is at the bottom of it and he’s using you.  And he’ll use you hard.  What you goin’ to do with the overflow from the water-hole?”

“I’m goin’ to irrigate me ranch,” said Sundown.

Loring nodded.  “And cut off the water from everybody?”

“Not from me friends.”

“Which means the Concho.”

“Sure!  Jack Corliss is me friend.  But that ain’t all.  If you want to be me friend, I ain’t kickin’ even if you did tell the sheriff he ought to git acquainted with me closer.  I’m goin’ to speak right out.  I reckon it’s the best way.  I got a proposition.  If you’ll quit sickin’ them herders onto cowboys and if Jack’ll quit settin’ the punchers at your herders, I’ll open up me spring and run her down to where they’s water for everybody.  If cows comes, they drink.  If sheep comes, they drink.  If folks comes, they drink, likewise.  But no fightin’.”

Sundown as arbiter of peace felt that he had, in truth, “spoken right out.”  He was not a little surprised at himself and a bit fearful.  Yet he felt justified in his suggestion.  Theoretically he had made a fair offer.  Practically his offer was of no value.  Sheep and cattle could not occupy the same range.  Loring grumbled something and shoved back his chair.  They rose and stepped to the veranda.

“If you can get Corliss to agree to what you say—­and quit runnin’ cattle on the water-hole side—­I’ll quit runnin’ sheep there.”  And Loring waved his hand toward the north.

“But the Concho is on the west side—­” began Sundown.

“And cattle are grazin’ on the east side,” said Loring.

Sundown scratched his head.  “I reckon I got to see Jack,” he said.

“And you’ll waste time, at that,” said Loring.  “Look here!  Are you ranchin’ to hold down the water-hole for Corliss or to make a livin’?”

Sundown hesitated.  He gazed across the yard to the distant mesa.  Suddenly a figure crossed the pathway to the gate.  He jerked up his head and stood with mouth open.  It couldn’t be—­but, yes, it was Anita—­Linda Rosa!  Gee Gosh!  He turned to Loring.  “I been tellin’ you the truth,” he said simply. “’Course I got to see me boss, now.  But it makes no difference what he says, after this.  I’m ranchin’ for meself, because I’m—­er—­thinkin’ of gettin’ married.”