PAINTED ROCK
I
THE KILLING OF "SWEETWATER"
I had come into Painted Rock from Ennis Creek in a Studebaker wagon, pulled by Jones' two mules, Punch and Judy, and, while the men at the store were making up my orders for the extra grub that would see us through shearing, I took a paseo all round the town. It had never seemed more peaceful to me, and I daresay that any tender-foot from the East would have thought it lacked all those elements of romance that he had expected to find. Pillsbury and Gedge, my two gambling friends, said that things were indeed dull.
"There don't seem to be a dollar in the hull
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