here. But how'll you handle a herd with yore outfit gone?"
His companion grinned and winked knowingly. "I'll handle it by buy in' subject to delivery. Let somebody else have th' fun of drivin' a lot of crazy-headed yearlin's all that distance. Growed-up steers are bad enough, an' I've had all I want of them for awhile. Well," he chuckled, "not havin' no yearlin's to buy, I reckon I've got time to wander around nights. Six months in a ranch-house is shore confinin'. I need a change. What do you say to a little drink?"
Corwin wiped more sand from his lips. "It's a little early in th' day for me, but I'm with you. This blasted wind looks like it's gettin' worse," he growled, scowling as he glanced about.
"It's only addin' to th' liveliness of yore little town," chuckled Johnny, leading the way.
"We ain't had a sand storm in three years," boasted the sheriff, hard on his companion's heels. "I see you know th' way," he commented.
Johnny set down his empty glass and brought up the roll of bills, peeled the outer from its companions, and tossed it on the bar. "You got to take somethin' with us, Ed," he reproved.
Ed shrugged his shoulders, slid the change across the counter, and became thoughtfully busy with the arrangement of the various articles on the backbar.
Corwin treated, talked a few moments, and then departed, his busy brain asking many questions and becoming steadily more puzzled.
Ed mopped the bar without knowing he was doing it,
