'Drag' Harlan - Charles Alden Seltzer (best ebook for manga .TXT) š
- Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
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He watched while the man unbuckled his cartridge belt and threw itāthe pistol still in the holsterāinto the sand at Purgatoryās hoofs. Then he stepped to the man, sheathed one of his pistols, and ran the free hand over the otherās clothing in search of other weapons. Finding none, he stooped and took up Dolverās pistol and rifle that had fallen from the manās hands when he had tumbled off the rock, throwing them near where the cartridge belt had fallen.
āYou freeze there while I take a look around this rock!ā he commanded, with a cold look at the man.
Half a dozen steps took him around the base of the rock. He went boldly, though his muscles were tensed and his eyes alert for surprises. But he had not taken a dozen steps in all when he halted and stiffened, his lips setting into straight, hard lines.
For, stretched out on his left side in the sand close to the base of the rockāunder the flattened summit which had afforded him protection from the bullets the man with the rifle had been sending at himāwas a man.
The man was apparently about fifty, with a seamed, pain-lined face. His beard was stained with dust, his hair was gray with it; his clothing looked as though he had been dragged through it. He was hatless, and one of his boots was off. The foot had been bandaged with a handkerchief, and through the handkerchief the dark stains of a wound appeared.
The manās shirt was open in front; and the rider saw that another wound gaped in his chest, near the heart. The man had evidently made some attempt to care for that wound, too, for a piece of cloth from his shirt had been cut away, to permit him to get at the wound easily.
The manās left side seemed to be helpless, for the arm was twisted queerly, the palm of the hand turned limply upward; but when the rider came upon him the man was trying to tuck a folded paper into one of the cylinders of a pistol.
He had laid the weapon in the sand, and with his right hand was working with the cylinder and the paper. When he saw the rider he sneered and ceased working with the pistol, looking up into the riderās face, his eyes glowing with defiance.
āNo chance for that even, eh?ā he said, glancing at the paper and the pistol. āThings is goinā plumb wrong!ā
He sagged back, resting his weight on the right elbow, and looked steadily at the riderāthe look of a wounded animal defying his pursuers.
āGet goinā!ā he jeered. āDo your damnedest! I heard that sneak, Dolver, yappinā to you. Youāre āDragā Harlanāgun-fighter, outlaw, killer! Iāve heard of you,ā he went on as he saw Harlan scowl and stiffen. āYour reputation has got all over. I reckon youāre in the game to salivate me.ā
Harlan sheathed his gun.
āYouāre talkinā extravagant, mister man.ā And now he permitted a cold smile to wreathe his lips. āIf itāll do you any good to know,ā he added, āIāve just put Dolver out of business.ā
āI heard that, too,ā declared the man, laughing bitterly. āI heard you tellinā Dolver. He killed your partnerāor somethinā. Thatās personal, anā I aināt interested. Get goināāthe sooner the better. If youād hand it to me right now, Iād be much obliged to you; for Iām goinā fast. This hole in my chestāwhich I got last night while I was sleepināāwill do the business without any help from you.ā
After a pause for breath, the man began to speak again, railing at his would-be murderers. He was talking ramblingly when there came a sound from the opposite side of the rockāa grunt, a curse, and, almost instantly, a shriek.
The wounded man raised himself and threw a glance of startled inquiry at Harlan: āWhatās that?ā
Harlan watched the man steadily.
āI reckon thatāll be that man Laskar,ā he said slowly. āI lifted his gun anā his rifle, anā Dolverās gun, anā throwed them under Purgatoryāmy horse. Laskar has tried to get them, anā Purgatoryās raised some objection.ā
He stepped back and peered around the rock. Laskar was lying in the sand near the base of the rock, doubled up and groaning loudly, while Purgatory, his nostrils distended, his eyes ablaze, was standing over the weapons that lay in the sand, watching the groaning man malignantly.
Harlan returned to the wounded man, to find that he had collapsed and was breathing heavily.
For some minutes Harlan stood, looking down at him; then he knelt in the sand beside him and lifted his head. The manās eyes were closed, and Harlan laid his head down again and examined the wound in his chest.
He shook his head as he got up, went to Purgatory, and got some water, which he used to wipe away the dust and blood which had become matted over the wound. He shook his head again after bathing the wound. The wound meant death for the man within a short time. Yet Harlan forced some water into the half-open mouth and bathed the manās face with it.
For a long time after Harlan ceased to work with him the man lay in a stupor-like silence, limp and motionless, though his eyes opened occasionally, and by the light in them Harlan knew the man was aware of what he had been doing.
The sun was going now; it had become a golden, blazing ball which was sinking over the peaks of some distant mountains, its fiery rays stabbing the pale azure of the sky with brilliantly glowing shafts that threw off ever-changing seas of color that blended together in perfect harmony.
Harlan alternately watched the wounded man and Laskar.
Laskar was still groaning, and finally Harlan walked to him and pushed him with a contemptuous foot.
āGet up, you sneak!ā he ordered. And Laskar, groaning, holding his chestāwhere Purgatoryās hoofs had struck himāstaggered to his feet and looked with piteously pleading eyes at the big man who stood near him, unmoved by the spectacle of suffering he presented.
And when he found that Harlan gave him no sympathy, he cursed horribly. This drew a cold threat from Harlan.
āShut your rank mouth or Iāll turn Purgatory loose on youāagain. Lookinā for sympathy, eh? How much sympathy did you give that hombre whoās cashinā in behind the rocks? Noneādamn you!ā
It was the first flash of feeling Harlan had exhibited, and Laskar shrank from him in terror.
But Harlan followed him, grasping him by a shoulder and gripping it with iron fingers, so that Laskar screamed with pain.
āWho is that man?ā Harlan motioned toward the rock.
āLane Morgan. He owns the Rancho Secoāabout forty miles south of Lamo,ā returned Laskar after a long look into Harlanās eyes.
āWho set you guys onto himāwhat you wantinā him for?ā
āI donāt know,ā whined Laskar. āDay before yesterday Dolver anā me meets up in Lamo, anā Dolver asks me to help him give Morgan his pass-out checks on the ride over to Pardoāwhich Morganās intendinā to make. I aināt got any love for Morgan, anā so I took Dolver up.ā
āYouāre a liar!ā
Harlanās fingers were sinking into Laskarās shoulder again, and once more the man screamed with pain and impotent fury.
āI swearāā began Laskar.
Harlanās grin was bitterly contemptuous. He placed the other hand on Laskarās shoulder and forced the man to look into his eyes.
āYouāre a liar, but Iām lettinā you off. Youāre a sneak with Greaser blood in you. I donāt ever want to see you again. Iām goinā to Lamoāsoon as this man Morgan cashes in. Iāll be there some time tomorrow. Lamo wouldnāt please me none if I was to find you there when I ride in. You slope, nowāanā keep on hittinā the breeze until there aināt no more of it. Iād blow you apart if this man Morgan was anything to me. But it aināt my game unless I see you again.ā
He watched until Laskar, still holding his chest, walked to where the two horses were concealed, and mounted one of them. When Laskar, leaning over the pommel of the saddle, had grown dim in the haze that was settling over the desert, Harlan scowled and returned to the wounded man.
To his astonishment, Morgan was consciousāand a cold calmness seemed to have come over him. His eyes were filled with a light that told of complete knowledge and resignation. He half smiled as Harlan knelt beside him.
āIām about due, I reckon,ā he said. āI heard you talkinā to the man you just let get away. It donāt make any differenceāabout him. I reckon he was just a tool, anyway. Thereās someone behind this bigger than Dolver anā that man Laskar. He didnāt tell you?ā
Harlan shook his head negatively, watching the other intently.
āI didnāt reckon he would,ā said Morgan. āBut thereās somebody.ā He gazed long into Harlanās face, and the latter gazed steadily back at him. He seemed to be searching Harlanās face for signs of character.
Harlan stood the probing glance wellāso that at last Morgan smiled, saying slowly: āItās funnyādamned funny. About faces, I mean. Your reputationāitās bad. Iāve been hearinā about you for a couple of years now. Anā Iāve been lookinā at you anā tryinā to make myself say, āYes, heās the kind of a guy which would do the things they say heās done.ā
āI canāt make myself say it; I canāt even make myself think it. Either youāre a mighty good actor, or youāre the worst-judged man I ever met. Which is it?ā
āMostly all of us get reputations we donāt deserve,ā said Harlan lowly.
Morganās eyes gleamed with satisfaction. āMeaninā that you donāt deserve yours?ā he said.
āI reckon thereās been a heap of lyinā goinā on about me.ā
For a long time Morgan watched the other, studying him. The long twilight of the desert descended and found themāMorgan staring at Harlan; the latter enduring the gazeāfor he knew that the end would not long be delayed.
At last Morgan sighed.
āWell,ā he said, āIāve got to take a chance on you. Anā, somehow, it seems to me that I aināt takinā much of a chance, either. For a man thatās supposed to be the hell-raisinā outlaw that folks say you are, youāve got the straightest eyes I ever seen. Iāve seen killersāanā outlaws, anā gun-fighters, anā I never seen one that could look at a man like youāve looked at me. Harlan,ā he went on slowly, āIām goinā to tell you about some gold Iāve hidāa hundred thousand dollars!ā
Keenly, suspicion lurking deep in his eyes, his mouth half open, seemingly ready to snap shut the instant he detected greed or cupidity in Harlanās eyes, he watched the latter.
It seemed that he expected Harlan to betray a lust for the gold he had mentioned; and he was ready to close his lips and to die with his secret. And when he saw that apparently Harlan was unmoved, that he betrayed, seemingly, not the slightest interest, that even his eyelids did not flicker at his words, nor his face change colorāMorgan drew a tremulous sigh.
āYouāve got me guessinā,ā he confessed weakly. āI donāt know whether youāre a devil or a saint.ā
āI aināt claiminā nothinā,ā said Harlan. āAnā I aināt carinā a damn about your gold. Iād a heap rather you wouldnāt mention it. More than one man has busted his character chasinā that rainbow.ā
āYou aināt interested?ā demanded Morgan.
āNot none.ā
Morganās eyes glowed with an eager light. For now that Harlan betrayed lack of interest, Morgan was convincedāalmostāthat the manās reputation for committing evil deeds had been exaggerated.
āYouāve got to be interested,ā he declared, lifting himself on his good arm and leaning toward Harlan. āIt aināt the gold that is botherinā me so much, anywayāitās my daughter.
āItās all my own fault, too,ā he went on when he saw Harlanās eyes quicken. āIāve felt all along that somethinā was wrong, but I didnāt have sense
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