CHAPTER IV
HIS SHADOW BEFORE
At ten o'clock the following morning, in a rear room of "Balleau's FirstChance" saloon--which was directly across the street from the LamoEating-House--Luke Deveny and two other men were sitting at a card-tablewith bottle and glasses between them. A window in the eastern side of theroom gave the men an unobstructed view of the desert, and for half anhour, as they talked and drank, they looked out through the window.
A tall, muscular man with a slightly hooked nose, keen blue eyes with acold glint in them, black hair, and an equally black mustache whichrevealed a firm-lipped mouth with curves at the corners that hinted ofcynicism, and, perhaps cruelty, was sitting at the table so that he facedthe window. His smile, as he again glanced out of the window, roved toDeveny--who sat at his right.
"One man--an' a led horse," he said shortly. "Looks like Laskar."
Deveny--big, smooth-shaven--with black, glowing, attractive eyes thatheld a glint quite as hard as that which shone in the eyes of thespeaker, looked long out of the window at a moving dot on the desert,which seemed to be traveling toward them. Deveny had looked before; butnow he saw two dots where at other times he had seen only one. His lipsheld a slight pout as he glanced at the speaker.
"You're right, Rogers," he said; "there's only one. The old fool musthave put up a fight."
Deveny filled a glass from the bottle and drank slowly. His features werelarge. His nose was well shaped, with wide nostrils that hinted of afiery, passionate nature; his thrusting chin and the heavy neck musclestold of strength, both mental and physical--of mental strength that wasof a tenacious character, of physical strength that would respond to anydemand of the will.
He was handsome, and yet the suggestion of ruthlessness in the atmosphereof him--lurking behind the genial, easy-going exterior that he wore forappearances--or because it was his nature to conceal his passions untilhe desired to unleash them--was felt by those who knew him intimately. Ithad been felt by Barbara Morgan.
Deveny was king of the lawless element in the Lamo section. The magnetismof him; the arrogance, glossed over with the calm and cold politeness ofhis manner; his unvarying immaculateness; the air of large and completeconfidence which marked his every action; the swiftness with which hestruck when he was aroused, or when his authority was questioned, placedhim without dissent at the head of the element that ruled the Lamocountry.
Deveny ruled, but Deveny's rule was irksome to Strom Rogers--the man towhom Deveny had just spoken. For while Deveny drank, Rogers watched himwith covert vigilance, with a jeering gleam far back in his eyes, with asecret envy and jealousy, with hatred and contempt and mockery.
Yet there was fear in Rogers' eyes, too--a mere glimmer of it. Yet it wasthere; and when Deveny set his glass down and looked straight at Rogers,it was that fear which brought the fawning, insincere smirk to Rogers'lips.
"See the girl?" questioned Rogers.
Deveny laughed lowly. Apparently he did not notice the glow in Rogers'eyes; but had Rogers looked closely he might have seen Deveny's lipsstraighten as he shot a glance at the other.
"Had the room next to her last night. Heard her drag the bed in front ofthe door of her room. She knew I was there, all right!" Deveny laugheddeeply. "She's wised up by this time. Lolly Kaye hates her--becauseBarbara's a good-looking girl, I suppose. That's like some women. Lollywould see Barbara roasting in hell and not give her a hand!"
"Lolly's been disappointed in love--I reckon." Rogers' laugh was hollow,mirthless. And again Deveny shot a glance at him.
"But you didn't bother her--Barbara?" questioned Rogers in a dry, lightvoice.
"No," grinned Deveny; "that time hasn't come--yet. It's coming soon. Itold Lolly to keep an eye on her; I've got Engle and Barthman and Kelmerwatching at the doors so Barbara can't light out for the Rancho Seco. Shedon't get away until tomorrow. Then she goes with me to the end of SunsetTrail. I've sent Shorty Mallo to Willow's Wells for the parson."
"Barbara know what's up?" Rogers' voice was low and throaty.
Again Deveny glanced at him--sharply.
"Hell, no!" he snapped. "It's none of her damned business--noranybody's!" He grinned maliciously when he saw Rogers' face whiten.
"Barbara will need a husband now," Deveny went on. "With old Morgan goneand her brother sloped from the home ranch, she'll be kind of lonesome. Iaim to cure her of that."
He laughed, and Rogers writhed inwardly. For Rogers had long nursed asecret hope that one day the fates might take a notion to give him thechance that Deveny intended to seize.
But Rogers was forced to conceal his jealousy and disappointment. Helaughed mirthlessly.
"So she can't get away, eh?--she's corralled!"
"Bah!" declared Deveny; "she won't want to get away--once she knows whatI mean--that it's going to be a regular wedding. She'll raise a fuss,most likely, to make folks believe she's unwilling, but in the end she'llget over it."
Deveny glanced out of the window at the blot that was now closer.
"It's Laskar, all regular," he said. "He's leading a sorrel horse--Dolver'shorse. Old Morgan got Dolver--looks like, the damned old gopher! Men aswilling as Dolver are not found every day." He looked at the third man, whohad not spoken.
"Lawson," he said, "you mosey down the trail a little piece and meetLaskar. Bring him here!"
Lawson, a thin-faced, medium-sized man with narrow shoulders, whosedistinguishing mark was a set of projecting upper teeth that kept hismouth in a continual smirking smile, got up quickly and went out. Devenyand Rogers, their thoughts centered upon the same person--BarbaraMorgan--sat silent, watching Lawson as he rode down the street toward thepoint where the trail, crossing the broken stretch of country thatintervened, merged into the desert.
Half an hour later Laskar, holding his chest, where Purgatory had kickedhim, was sitting at the table in the rear room of the First Chance,cursing with a fluency that he had not yielded to in many years.
"Dolver's wiped out!" he gasped hoarsely; "plugged so quick he didn'tknow he was hit. A center shot--plumb in the heart; his own gun goin' offwhile he was fallin'. I looked him over--after. He was croaked complete.Then that sober-faced hyena lifts my gun--an' the rifle--an' says thingsto me, which I don't try to cross him. Then he goes behind therock--where we was havin' it out--an' while he's gone I tries to git myguns from under that devil-eyed cayuse of his'n.
"An' I don't succeed--noways. That black devil turns on a half-dollar an'plants his hoofs plumb in my breast-bone. If I'd been an inch nearer, orif he'd have kicked me a foot lower, or a foot higher, I'd be layin' outthere where Dolver is now, the coyotes an' the buzzards gnawin' at me."
Unmoved by Laskar's incoherence, Deveny calmly watched him. And now, whenLaskar paused for breath, Deveny spoke slowly:
"A _black_ horse, you said. How did a black horse get there? Old Morganrode a bay when he left Lamo--Balleau says."
"Did I say Morgan rode a black horse?" queried Laskar, knowledge in hiseyes that he had a thing to tell that would blanch their faces. Hegrinned, still holding his chest, his glance malicious.
"Did I say a _black_ horse?" he repeated. "Did I say Morgan rode a blackhorse? Morgan didn't. Morgan rode a bay--an' the Chief run it off afterhe shot Morgan. But Morgan didn't die right away, an' the Chief he had toslope, he said--an' he did--leavin' me an' Dolver to finish old Morgan.
"We was tryin' our damnedest when this guy on the black horse pops up outof nowhere an' salivates Dolver."
"Who was it?"
This was Deveny. He was now leaning forward, a pout on his lips, watchingLaskar with an intent, glowering gaze.
"'Drag' Harlan!" shouted Laskar. His face lighted with a hideous joy ashe watched the effect of his news.
"'Drag' Harlan! Do you hear?" he went on. "'Drag' Harlan, the Pardo'two-gun' man! He's headed toward Lamo. He bored Dolver, an' he said thatsoon as Morgan cashed in he was hittin' the breeze for here!"
Lawson, the man who had gone to meet Laskar, ejaculated ho
arsely, andstood rigid, his mouth open, his eyes bulging. It was the involuntaryexpression of the astonishment and fear that had seized him. Laskarforgot the pain in his chest long enough to straighten and grin atLawson.
Rogers' face had changed color. He, too, had become rigid. He had been inthe act of reaching for the bottle on the table, and the hand that hadbeen extended had been suddenly drawn back, so that the hand was nowmidway between his body and the bottle--and the fingers were clenched.The other hand, under the table, was likewise clenched, and the musclesof his jaws were corded. Into his eyes had come a furtive, restlessgleam, and his face had paled.
Deveny gave no visible sign of perturbation. He coolly reached out,grasped the bottle that Rogers had been reaching for, and poured some ofthe amber fluid into one of the glasses. The other men watched himsilently--all of them intent to note the tremor they expected to see.
Deveny's hand did not tremble. He noted the glances of the men--theadmiration that came into their eyes as with steady muscles he raised theglass and drank--and he smiled with slight contempt.
"Coming here, eh?" he said evenly. "So he said that. Did he mention whathe was coming for?"
"He didn't mention," replied Laskar.
"So he downed Dolver. Did he say what for?"
"Said Dolver had shot up his partner, Davey Langan--back in Pardo. Harlanwas evenin' up."
"What do you know about Harlan?"
The question was addressed to all of them.
Rogers answered.
"He's a bad guy--all bad. He's an iceberg, an' he's got the snakiestgun-hand of any man in the country. Draws hesitatin'-like. A man don'tknow when he's goin' to uncork his smoke-wagons. I seen him put LeftyBlandin' out. He starts for his guns, an' then kind of stops, trickin'the other guy into goin' for his. Then, before the other guy can get hisgun to workin', Harlan's stickin' his away, an' the guy's ready for themourners.
"Harlan got his handle that way. He goes for his guns so slow an'hesitatin' that he seems to drag 'em out. But some way he's alwaysshootin' first. An' they always let him off because it's mighty plainthat the other guy tried to draw first."
"I've heard that," said Deveny slowly. "What's his record?"
"Plays her a lone hand," returned Rogers. He watched the other steadily.
Deveny toyed with a glass as he gazed out of the window. There was acold, sullen gleam in his eyes when he finally looked at Laskar.
"You said Harlan told you he was coming here as soon as Morgan cashed in.According to that, Morgan must have been hit bad."
"The Chief said he bored him plenty. An' me an' Dolver must have got himsome."
"You didn't get a chance to search Morgan?"
"No chance--he fit like a hyena; an' when he got behind that damned rockthere was no way of gettin' at him."
"Then," said Deveny, "according to what you say, Harlan will come here assoon as Morgan dies. And when you left there Morgan was in a bad way.Harlan is due most any time, then."
"That's the way I figger," agreed Laskar.
And now Laskar fidgeted. "I aim to be hittin' the breeze now--beforeHarlan hits town. This climate is gettin' unhealthy for me. Harlan giveme notice."
"To leave town?"
It was Deveny who spoke. There was a snarl in his voice; he leanedforward and scowled at Laskar.
Laskar nodded.
Rogers cleared his throat, and Lawson moved his feet uneasily.
Deveny's scowl faded; he grinned coldly.
"Giving orders--is he?" he snapped. "Well, we'll see." He laughed. "WhenHarlan hits town it will be a sign that old Morgan's crossed the Divide.Well, there was no witnesses to Morgan's cashing in, and one man's wordis as good as another's in this country."
"Meanin'?" questioned Rogers, noting the light in Deveny's eyes.
"Meaning that Laskar is going--right now--to whisper into Sheriff Gage'sear that he saw our friend, 'Drag' Harlan, killing old Morgan."
Rogers got to his feet, grinning. The gleam in his eyes indicated that hefelt some relief over the prospect presented by Deveny's suggestion.
"Of course we ain't sure Harlan means to make trouble here," he toldDeveny; "but it's just as well to shove him off onto the sheriff."
The four men walked to the front door of the First Chance, after pausingfor a few minutes at the bar.
Outside, halting for an instant on the board platform in front of thesaloon, Rogers, who had been the first to emerge, started as he glancedtoward the desert, and then stood rigid, shading his hands with his eyesagainst the sun that poured into his face.
"He's comin' now!" he said.
Deveny and the others also looked into the blinding glare of thesun--likewise shading their eyes. And they saw, far out upon the vast seaof sand--yet not so far that they could not distinguish objects--a blackhorse coming steadily toward them.
Deveny was strangely silent, glowering toward the desert; Rogers foldedhis arms and faced the oncoming rider and the somber-coated animal hebestrode; Lawson scowled; and Laskar nervously estimated the distancethat stretched between himself and the steady-eyed man who had told himcertain things in a voice that had been entirely convincing.