"Full?"

"Nope. Chance killed one of Loring's sheep. John hung it onto me,
seein' Chance was with me. Guess John's gettin' religion."

Corliss laughed, and his lips twisted to a sneer. "Guess he is. I
tried to touch him for two hundred of my own money and he turned me
down. Maybe I like it."

"Turned you down, eh! That's what I call nerve! And you been away
three year and more. Reckon, by the way the Concho is makin' good, you
got more'n two hundred comin'. She's half yours, ain't she?"

"Yes. And I'm going to get my share. He told me I could have a
job--that he was short-handed. What do you think of that! And I own
half the Concho! I guess I'd like to ride range with a lot of--well,
you understand, Fade. I never liked the Concho and I never will.
Let's have another. No. This is on me."

Again they drank and Corliss became more talkative. He posed as one
wronged by society in general and his brother especially.

As his talk grew louder, Fadeaway cautioned him. "Easy, Billy. No use
advertisin'. Come on over here." And Fadeaway gestured toward one of
the tables in the rear of the room.

Corliss was about to retort to the other's apparently good-natured
interference with his right to free speech, when he caught Fadeaway's
glance. "Well?" he exclaimed.