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One day a being named Bartholomew, a sheep-man and therefore of little account from the lower Rio Grande country, rode in sight of the Nopalito ranch-house, and felt hunger assail him. Ex consuetudine he was soon seated at the mid-day dining table of that hospitable kingdom.
"The idea! You seem to know all about them." "Not much," he said. "I 'm no sheep-man." "But anyway, you do get along with them." "If they were my sheep," he answered, "and I was n't responsible for them, I would n't be so particular. Especially with this one; he has been a lot of trouble. As far as money goes he is n't worth over fifty cents I would have let him die."
"However, if those sheep belong to Loustalot, they constitute the fairest sight mine eyes have gazed upon to date." "And who might he be?" "That shaggy thief I manhandled a few minutes ago. He's a sheep-man from the San Carpojo, and for a quarter of a century he has not dared set foot on the Palomar.
The sheep-man was about to speak when the tall one raised his arm and shook his fist in Loring's face. "Fer two pins I'd jump you and stomp the gizzard out of you, you low-down, dried-up, whisker-faced, mutton-eatin' butcher, you! I goes to you and makes you a square offer and you come pussy-footin' in and steals me ranch when I ain't there!
She was on her knees supporting her father's head when they dismounted and shuffled into the yard. The old sheep-man blinked and tried to raise himself. One of the Concho boys stepped forward and helped her get the wounded man to the house. Corliss strode to the bedroom and spoke to Sundown who turned and sat up. "Get hit, Sun?" "No. But I'm feelin' kind of sick. Is the ole man dead?"
Shoop's gun jumped from its holster and covered the sheep-man. "If one of your lousy herders done this, he'll graze clost to hell to-night with the rest of your dam' sheep!" he cried. "Easy, Bud!" cautioned Wingle. "The boss ain't passed over yet. Bill, you help Sinker here get the boss back home. The rest of you boys hit the trail for the Blue. Fadeaway is like to be up in that country."
Fowler you just got up and bleated like a Montana sheep-man." The preacher set the coffee-pot on the stove, straightened himself, and shouted, "I spoke the word of God!" "I don't know whether there's a God or not. Probably there isn't any. But if there is, I'll bet He never talked foolish threats that a fellow has hard work to understand." Mr. Fowler gasped. "Now wait a moment," protested Douglas.
A Queensland drover once took a big mob from the Gulf right down through New South Wales, selling various lots as he went. He had to deliver some to a small sheep-man, near Braidwood, who was buying a few hundred cattle as a spec. By the time they arrived, the cattle had been on the road eight months, and were quiet as milkers.
"I'll send over some grub," said Corliss as they mounted. Sundown nodded. The band of riders moved slowly back toward the Concho. About halfway on their homeward journey they met Loring in a buckboard. The old sheep-man drove up and would have passed them without speaking had not Corliss reined across the road and halted him. "One of your herders 'Sandro is over at the water-hole," said Corliss.
Passing by Five Lakes and down Five Lake Creek to its junction with the canyon down which we had come from the Little American Valley, we were soon headed down the creek for the Rubicon. To the right towered Mt. Shank was a sheep-man who for years ran his sheep here during the summer, taking them down to the Sacramento Valley in winter.
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