Sundown Slim

sky seemed clouded to the level of the pine-tops. He spurred his horse as he again felt a spatter of rain. Before him lay several miles of rug

rate ranchers. The illicit sale of whiskey to the cowboys of the Concho Valley had been the cause of Soper's hurried evacuation. The cabin had been burned to the ground.

ce. He was drenched and shivered. The fever of drink had died out leaving him unstrung and strangely fearful of the night. His horse stood with lowered head, its storm-blown mane whipping in the wind like a wet

lplessness stole over him and he pictured himself returning to the Concho and asking forgiveness of his brother. Yet he kept stubbornly on, glancing ahead from time to time until at last he saw the dim edge of the distant timber-a black line against the darkness. He urged his horse to a trot, and was all but thrown as the animal suddenly avoided a prairie-dog hole. The sweep of the storm was broken as he entered the farther timber. The

ess the wrecked framework of his own plans. He heard the echo of Fadeaway's sneering laugh in the fury of the wind. He told himself that he had been duped and that he deserved it. Lacking physical strength to carry him through to a place of tentative safety, he gave up, and credited his sudden regret to true repentance rather than to weakness. He would return to the Concho, knowing that his brother would forgive him. He wept as he thought of his attitude of the repentant and broken son returning in sorrow to atone for his sin and shame. He magnified his wrongdoing to heroic proportions endeavoring to filch some sentimental comfort from the romantic. He it was that needed the sympathy of the world and not his brother John; John was a plodder, a clod,

He followed shouting. His strength gave out and he gave up the chase, wondering where the horse would go. Stumbling along the slippery trail, he cursed his clumsiness. A chill sweat gather

s wakened him. As he got to his feet, a buckboard, drawn by a pair of pinto range-ponies, drew up. Corliss started back. The Mexican driving the ponies turned toward the sweet-faced Spanish woman beside him as though questioning her pleasure. She spoke in quick, low accents. He cramped the wagon and she stepped to the road. The Se?ora Loring, albeit having knowledge of his recent return to Antelope, his drinking, and all the unsavory rumo

was in trouble of some kind. She aske

s, dropped to his knee:

me. Then perhaps you have to say t

to the buckboard. He climbed beside the driver, then with an

ike to go?" she as

ok his head.

his hesitatio

-when I feel better

w," sh

driver, she gestured

e clustered adobes of the Loring homestead glimmered in the sun. Corliss glanced acro

-anywhere," he said, ges

"Nellie is not at the home to-day. You re

to dismount. The Se?ora Loring touched his arm. He shrugged his shoulde

de coffee. Half starved, he ate ravenously the meal she prepared for him. Later, when she came and sat opposite, her plump hands fo

I thought I could go back and face it out, but

tell you-so I say nothing. I can only-what you say-help, with my hands," and

mad

pped to an adjoining room and returned. "Here is this to help you go. Some day you c

back. I'll

ers. "No. The promise to make is not so hard, but to

he Se?ora's heart was heavy with sorrow for him. He strode to the doorway. Se?ora Lor

road I'll take, madre,-after I leave here,-this country. But I

nd patted his arm.

, who works for the Concho. If you see him, please tell him-that I sent it back." And

tood in the doorway watching the glint of the speeding ponies. Then she went to her bedroom and knelt before the little crucifix.