“I reckon that’s right,” admitted Sundown, “Killin’ a married man is like killin’ the whole fambly.”

“And you’re a single man—­so you’re all right,” said Shoop.

“Gee Gosh!  Mebby that ought to make me feel good, but it don’t.  Supposin’ a fella was goin’ to get married?”

“Then—­he’d—­better wait,” said Corliss, smiling at his foreman.

Corliss stood up and yawned.  “Oh, say, Sun, where’d you get that beef?” he asked casually.

“The beef?  Why, a Chola come along here day afore yesterday and say if I wanted some meat.  I says yes.  Then he rides off and purty soon he comes back with a hind-quarter on his saddle.  I give him two dollars for it.  It looked kind of funny, but I thought he was mebby campin’ out there somewhere and peddlin’ meat.”

Shoop and Corliss glanced at each other.  “They don’t peddle meat that way in this country, Sun.  What did the Mexican look like?”

“Kind of fat and greasy-like, and he was as cross-eyed as a rabbit watchin’ two dogs to onct.”

“That so?  Let’s have a look at that hind-quarter.”

“Sure!  Over there in the well-shed.”

When Corliss returned, he nodded to Shoop.  Then he turned to Sundown.  “We found a Two-Bar-O steer killed right close to here yesterday.  Looks queer.  Well, we’ll be fanning it.  I’ll send to Antelope and have them order the pump and some pipe.  Got plenty of grub?”

“Plenty ’nough for a couple of weeks.”

“All right.  So-long.  Keep your eye on things.”

CHAPTER XXV

VAMOSE, EH?

The intermittent popping of the gasoline engine, as it forced water to the big, unpainted tank near the water-hole, became at first monotonous and finally irritating.  Sundown, clad in oil-spotted overalls that did not by many inches conceal his riding-boots and his Spanish spurs, puttered about the engine until he happened to glance at the distant tank.  A silvery rill of water was pouring from the top of the tank.  He shut off the engine, wiped his hands, and strode to the house.

He was gone a long time, so long in fact that Chance decided to investigate.  The dog got up, stretched lazily, and padded to the doorway.  He could hear Sundown muttering and shuffling about in the bedroom.  Chance stalked in quietly and stood gazing at his master.  Sundown had evidently been taking a bath,—­not in the pail of water that stood near him, but obviously round and about it.  At the moment he was engaged in tying a knot in the silk bandanna about his neck.  Chance became animated.  His master was going somewhere!  Sundown turned his head, glancing at the dog with a preoccupied eye.  The knot adjusted to his satisfaction, he knelt and drew a large box from beneath the bed.  From the box he took an immaculate and exceedingly wide-brimmed Stetson with an exceedingly high crown.  He dented the crown until the hat