'Drag' Harlan by Charles Alden Seltzer (top novels of all time .txt) đ
- Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
- Performer: -
Book online «'Drag' Harlan by Charles Alden Seltzer (top novels of all time .txt) đ». Author Charles Alden Seltzer
Yet Latimer would not have been able to reach that frenzy had he not been convinced that he was Harlanâs master with the six-shooter. He really believed that Harlan had been overrated. He believed that because he wanted to believe it, and because his contempt for the man had bred that conviction in his heart.
Also, he thought he knew why Harlan had come to the Starâwhy he had joined the outlaw camp. And the night before, he had communicated that suspicion to Deveny. It was because Harlan knew he had been with Dolver when Davey Langan had been killed. Latimer thought he had seen a slight relief in Devenyâs eyes when he had told the latter that, but he could not be sure, and it was not important.
The important thing was that he must kill Harlanâand he meant to do it. He would kill him fairly, if possible, thereby enhancing his reputationâbut he was certain to kill him, no matter what the method.
That conviction blazed in his eyes as he came to a halt within a dozen paces of where Harlan was sitting. He had worked himself to such a pitch of rage that it gripped him like some strong feverâbloating his face, tensing his muscles, bulging his eyes.
Harlan had watched him; and his gaze was on the other now with a steady, unwavering alertness that advertised his knowledge of what was impending. But he sat, motionless, rigid, waiting Latimerâs first hostile movement.
Harlan had turned a very little when Latimer had begun his walk toward the bench; his right side was slightly toward the man, the leg partially extended; while the left leg was doubled under the benchâseemingly to give him leverage should he decide to rise.
But he gave no indication of meditating such a move. It was plain to the watchers that if he attempted it Latimer would draw his gun and begin to shoot.
Latimer was convinced also that Harlan would not attempt to rise. He had Harlan at a disadvantage, and he laughed loudly, sardonically, contemptuously as he stood, his right hand hovering close to his pistol holster, his eyes aflame with hate and passion.
âKeep a-settinâ, you buzzardâs whelp!â he sneered; âkeep a-settinâ! Latimerâs out to git you. You know itâeh? Youâve knowed it right alongâpretendinâ not to. âDragâ Harlanâbah! Gunslinger with a recordâanâ caught a-settinâ. Caught with the goods on, sneakinâ in here, tryinâ to ketch a man unawares.
âBah! Donât I know what youâre here for? Itâs me! You blowed Dolver apart for killinâ that damned, slick-eyed pardner of yournâDavey Langan. Do you want to know who sent Langan out? Iâm tellinâ youâit was me! Meâme!â
He fairly yelled the last words, and stiffened, holding the fingers of his right hand clawlike, above the butt of the holstered pistol.
And when he saw that Harlan did not move; that he sat there rigid, his eyes unblinking and expressionless; his right hand hanging limply at his side, near the partially extended leg; his left hand resting upon the thigh of the doubled legâhe stepped closer, watching Harlanâs right hand.
For a spaceâwhile one might have counted tenâneither man moved a muscle. Something in Harlanâs manner sent into Latimerâs frenzied brain the message that all was not what it seemedâthat Harlan was meditating some astonishing action. Ten seconds is not long, as times goes, but during that slight interval the taut nerves of Latimerâs were twanged with a torturing doubt that began to creep over him.
Would Harlan never make that move? That question was dinned insistently into Latimerâs ears. He began to believe that Harlan did not intend to draw.
And thenââ
âAh!â
It was Latimerâs lungs that breathed the ejaculation.
For Harlanâs right hand had moved slightly upward, toward the pistol at his right hip. It went only a few inches; it was still far below the holster when Latimerâs clawlike fingers descended to the butt of his own weapon. The thought that he would beat Harlan in a fair draw was in his mindâthat he would beat him despite the confusion of the hesitating motion with which Harlan got his gun out.
Something was happening, thoughâsomething odd and unexplainable. For though Latimer had seemed to have plenty of time, he was conscious that Harlanâs gun was belching fire and death at him. He saw the smoke streaks, felt the bullets striking him, searing their way through him, choking him, weakening his knees.
He went down, his eyes wide with incredulity, filling with hideous self-derision when he saw that the pistol which had sent his death to him was not in Harlanâs right hand at all, but in his left.
Harlan got up slowly as Latimer stretched out in the dust at his feetâcasting one swift glance at the fallen man to satisfy himself that for him the incident was ended. Then, with the gaze of every man in the outfit upon him, he strode toward the stable, where Lanky and Poggs were standing, having witnessed the death of their confederate.
They stiffened to immobility as they watched Harlanâs approach, knowing that for them the incident was not closedâtheir guilt plain in their faces.
And when Harlan halted in front of them they stood, not moving a muscle, their eyes searching Harlanâs face for signs that they too, were to receive a demonstration of the manâs uncanny cleverness.
âYou was backinâ Latimerâs play,â said Harlan, shortly. âIâm aiminâ to play the string out. Pullâor Iâll blow you apart!â
Poggs and Lanky did not âpull.â They stood there, ghastly color stealing into their faces, their eyes wide with the knowledge that death would be the penalty of a hostile movement.
Harlanâs pistol was again in its holster, and yet they had no desire to provoke the man to draw it. The furtive gleam in the eyes of both revealed the hope that gripped themâthat some of the watchers would interfere.
But not a man moved. Most of them had been stunned by the rapidity of Harlanâs actionâby the deftness with which he had brought his left hand into use. They had received the practical demonstration for which they all had longed, and each manâs manner plainly revealed his decision to take no part in what was transpiring.
They remained in their places while Harlanâunderstanding that Poggs and Lanky would not accept his invitationâspoke gruffly to them:
âThis camp ainât got any room for skunks that go to framinâ up on any of the boys. Today you done it to meâtomorrow youâd try to pull it off on some other guy.
âYouâre travelinââpronto. Youâre gettinâ your cayuses. Then youâre hittinâ the breeze away from hereâanâ not cominâ back. That lets you out. Mosey!â
He stood watchful, alert, while the men roped their horses, got their âwar-bags,â from the bunkhouse, mounted, and rode away without looking back. Then he walked over to the bench where he had been sitting when Rogers had warned him of the plan to kill him; ordered several of the men to take Latimerâs body away, and then resumed his place on the bench, where he rolled a cigarette.
Later, when the men who had gone with Latimerâs body returned to the vicinity of the ranchhouse, Harlan was still sitting on the bench.
No man said a word to him, but he saw a new respect in the eyes of all of themâeven in Rogersâ gazeâwhich had not strayed from him for an instant during the trouble.
And a little later, when Rogers walked to the bench and sat beside him, the other men had resumed their various pastimes as though nothing had happened.
Again Rogers whispered to him, lowly, admiringly:
âThis camp is yours, man, whenever you say the word!â
It was Strom Rogers who indicated to the outlaws at the Star that henceforth Harlan was to exercise authority of a kind that had formerly been vested in Haydon and Deveny.
The corral was packed to suffocation with cattle, threatening the health of the animals; Deveny had sent no word from the Cache regarding the disposal of the stock, and Haydonâs whereabouts were unknown.
Rogers had moved stock on his own initiative in former daysâfor he had been an able assistant to both leaders. And Rogers could have moved the stock out of the corral and to the point far south where the outlaws had always sold them.
But there was malice in Rogersâ heart toward the two outlaw leaders, and a perverse devil lurked in him. For many months he had worshiped Barbara Morgan from a distance, vaguely aware that his passion for her could never be realized. But there was a spark of honesty and justice in Rogers despite his profession, and a sincere admiration for the girl that admitted of no thought of evil toward her.
He had almost betrayed his resentment to Deveny when in Lamo, on the day of the coming of Harlan, Deveny had boldly announced his intentions toward the girl; and it had been a dread of clashing with Deveny that had kept him from interfering. The will to protect the girl had been in Rogersâ mind, but he lacked the physical courage to risk his life for her.
This man who had boldly entered the outlaw camp, after first defying Deveny in Lamo, had made a stirring appeal to the good in Rogers; and he foresaw that trouble, in which Harlan had a chance to emerge victorious, was certain. And he had decided to align himself with the Pardo gunman.
Therefore, on this morning, when it was certain that the cattle in the corral must be moved, he deliberately refused to exercise his prerogative. Instead, he waited until after breakfastâwhen the men were congregated outside the bunkhouse doorâwhen he was certain they would all hear him.
Harlan had come out, too. He had not visited the Rancho Seco for more than a week, fearing that his absence might jeopardize the advantage he had gained over the men through the killing of Latimer.
With the attention of all the men centered upon him, Rogers walked close to Harlan, speaking loudly:
âThem cattle ought to hit the trail, Harlan. Itâs up to youâyouâre the boss. Do we move âemâanâ where?â
A comprehensive light gleamed in Harlanâs eyes.
âThey move,â he said shortly. âDrive them where youâve been drivinâ them.â
As though he had been giving orders to the outlaws all his life, he briskly mentioned the names of the men who were to form the trail herd.
Not a man dissented. Those whose names were called quickly detached themselves from the group, and sought the horse corral; where they roped their horses and began to make preparations to obey Harlanâs order. And later, when the cattle were driven out of the corral, and the trail herd crew straggled behind them over the level that led southward, the men were grinning.
For Harlan had told them that their share of the spoils resulting from the sale of the cattle was to be materially increased. He had likewise told them that they might spend an extra day in âtownâ before their return.
Only one man besides Harlan remained at the Star after the herd vanished into the southern distance. That man was the black-bearded fellow who had escorted Harlan to the ranchhouse on the occasion of his first visitâLafe Woodward.
This manâs admiration for Harlan had never been concealed. He had stayed as close to Harlan as possible; and from his manner Harlan had divined that the man was eager to ingratiate himself.
Woodward stood near Harlan as
Comments (0)