I had answered a call earlier in the day south of Sanderson and went to my batchin’ outfit instead of going back to town that night. Mr. Hill, who was foreman of the Hess Ranch a few miles north of Marathon, had been trying to reach me at Fort Stockton. When he couldn’t get me he called Roger Gallemore at the drugstore. Roger told him that if I came in by closing time he would have me call him. Roger forgot about the call and closed up and went to bed. He remembered during the night and tried to call me. Unbeknownst to me, the phone at my batchin’ outfit was dead, and when Roger couldn’t get me to answer, he called Punch McAdams, who lived at the old headquarters about three or four miles across the ranch from me. Roger told Punch about Mr. Hill’s call and about my phone being dead, so Punch got in his pickup and drove over. He woke me up and told me my phone was dead and relayed the message from Mr. Hill. I got up and drove to the Hess Ranch, and at about two o’clock in the morning I knocked on Mr.
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