'Drag' Harlan - Charles Alden Seltzer (best ebook for manga .TXT) š
- Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
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He had instantly forgotten the girl. For when Harlan came up Deveny saw a gleam in his eyes that sent his brain to throbbing with those unmistakable impulses of fear which had seized him the day, in Lamo, when Harlan had faced him.
There had been a moment of silence when the two groups met; a stiffening of muscles and the heavy, strained breathing that, in men, tells of mental preparation for violence, swift and deadly.
It had been Harlan who had prevented concerted actionāaction that would have brought about a battle in which all would have figured. His guns came out before the thought of trouble could definitely form in the brains of the Deveny men; and he had held themāthe men in the saddles, Deveny standingāuntil the T Down men, whom he had seen from a distance, coming toward him, could arrive.
Then, still menacing the Deveny men with weapons, he had dismounted to face Devenyāwhere he had been when Barbara Morgan had recovered consciousness.
And while the girl had been stealing away he had been talking to Deveny, though loud enough for all of them to hear.
There was about Harlan as this moment a threat that brought awe into the hearts of Devenyās menāa cold, savage alertness that told them, unmistakably, that the manās rage was at a pitch where the slightest movement by any of them would precipitate that action for which, plainly, Harlan longed.
āSo you got Barbara Morgan?ā he said as he stood close to Deveny. There was a taunt in his voice, and an irony that made Deveny squirm with fury.
And yet Deveny fought hard for composure. He could see in Harlanās manner something akin to what he had seen that day, in Lamo, when Harlan had baited him. His manner was the same, yet somehow it was not the same. There was this difference:
In Lamo, Harlan had betrayed the threat of violence that Deveny had felt. But he had seemed to be composed, saturnineāwilling to wait. It had seemed, then, that he wanted trouble, but he would not force it.
Now, he plainly intended to bring a clash quickly. The determination was in his eyes, in the set of his head, and in his straight, stiff lips.
He seemed to have forgotten the other men; his gaze was on Deveny with a boring intensity that sent a chill of stealthy dread over the outlaw.
Deveny had faced many men in whose hearts lurked the lust to kill; he had shot down men who had faced him with that lust in their eyesāand he knew the passion when he saw it.
He saw it now, in Harlanās eyesāthey were wantonāin them was concentrated all the hate and contempt that Harlan felt for him. But back of it all was that iron self-control that Deveny had seen in the man when he had faced him in Lamo.
Deveny had avoided Harlan since that day. He had known whyāand he knew at this minute. It was because he was afraid of Harlanāhe feared him as a coward fears the death that confronts him. The sensation was premonitory. Nor was it that. It had been premonitoryāit was now a conviction. In the time, in Lamo, when he had faced Harlan some prescience had warned him that before him was the man whom the fates had selected to bring death to him.
He had felt it during all the days of Harlanās presence in the section; he had felt it, and he had avoided the man. He felt it now, and his breathing grew fast and difficultāhis chest laboring as he shrilled breath into his lungs.
He knew what was coming; he knew that presently Harlanās passion would reach the point where action would be imperative; that presently would come that slow, halting movement of Harlanās hands toward his gunāwhich gun? He would witness, with himself as one of the chief actors, the hesitating movement which had brought fame of a dread kind to the man who stood before him.
Could he beat Harlan to the ādraw?ā Could he? That question was dinned into his ears and into his consciousness by his brain and his heart. He heard nothing of what was going on around him; he did not hear Harlanās voice, though he saw the manās lips moving. He did not see any of the men who stood near, nor did he see his men, sitting in their saddles, watching him.
He saw nothing but Harlan; felt nothing except the blood that throbbed in his temples; was conscious of nothing but the question that filled his heart, his brain, and his soulācould he beat Harlan to the ādraw?ā
Presently, when he saw, with astonishment, that Harlan was slowly backing away from him, crouching a little, he divined vaguely that the moment had come. And now, curiously, he heard Harlanās voiceālow, distinct, even. What an iceberg the man was!
āHaydonās dead,ā he heard Harlan sayingāand he stared at Harlan, finding it difficult to comprehend. āLafe Woodward killed him,ā Harlan went on ākilled him at the Cache. Now get this straightāall of you.ā It seemed strange to Deveny that Harlan seemed to be speaking to the men, while watching him, only.
āWoodward was killed, too. His real name was Bill Morgan. He was Lane Morganās son. Bill Morgan was sent here by the governor, to get evidence against Haydon. He got it. I took it from his pockets when I planted himāanā itās goinā straight to the governor.
āYou guys are through hereāā again he seemed to speak to all the men. āMorgan told me he had some men with the Cache gang. Theyāre to ride out anā join my boysāthe T Down outfit.ā
Deveny was conscious that several men detached themselves from the group of riders he had brought with him, and rode to where the T Down men were standing. Then Harlan spoke again:
āNow, she shapes up like this. If thereās any of the Star gang wantinā to go straight, they can throw in with the T Down boys, too. If thereās some that figure on pullinā their freight out of the valleyāanā stayinā outāthey can hit the breeze right nowādrivinā that Star herd to Willowās Wells, sellinā them, anā dividinā the money. Whoever is takinā up that proposition is startinā right now!ā
About half the Star men began to move; heading up the valley. There was a momentary pause, and then those that were left of Devenyās men moved uneasily.
āDoes that go for us guys too?ā
āItās wide open,ā announced Harlan, cold humor seeming to creep into his voice. āItās your chance to get out of this deal without gettinā whatās cominā to you.ā
There was a rush and clatter as Devenyās men joined the men of the Star, who were already on the move. And then there followed a long silence, during which Deveny glanced up the valley and saw the men riding away.
He turned again, to face Harlan, with the consciousness that he stood alone. The T Down men, half of the Star men, and a large proportion of the Cache men were standing with Harlan. Deveny saw Colver and Rogers among those who had aligned themselves with Harlan.
No invitation to withdraw had been extended to Deveny. The knowledge strengthened his conviction that Harlan intended to kill him. And yet, now, facing Harlan, he knew that he would never take up the slender thread of chance that was offered himāto draw his gun, kill Harlan and resume his authority over the men who were left.
The possibility, dangling at the other end of the slender thread of chance, did not allure him. For he knew he could not draw the pistol at his hip with Harlanās gaze upon himāthat would be suicide.
āDeveny!ā
Harlanās voice, snapping with menace roused him, straightened him, brought an ashen pallor to his face.
āItās your turn, Deveny. You stay here. Flash your gun!ā
Here it wasāthe dreaded moment. Deveny saw the men around him stiffen rigidly; he heard their slow-drawn breaths. The thought to draw his gun was strong in him, and he fought hard to force his recreant muscles to do the will of his mind. For an instant he stood, his right hand poised above the holster of his pistol, the elbow crooked, ready to straighten.
And then, with the steady, coldly flaming eyes of Harlan upon him, Harlanās right hand extended slightly, the fingers spread a little as though he was about to offer his hand to the other. Deveny became aware that he was doing an astonishing thing. He was raising his right hand!
Already it was at his shoulder. And as he marveled, it went higher, finally coming to a level with his head, where it stopped. He had publicly advertised his refusal to settle his differences with Harlan with the pistol.
āYellow!ā
It was Harlanās voice. āYou wonāt fight anā you wonāt run. Well, weāll keep you, savinā you for the governor. I reckon heāll be glad to see you.ā
Harlan turned, sheathing his pistol, and began to walk toward his horse, his back toward Deveny.
Then Deveny acted. His eyes flaming hate, he drew his pistol with a flashing movement, his face hideous with malignant passion.
He sent one bullet into Harlanās back and two more as Harlan tumbled forward, sinking to his knees from the shock. But Devenyās two last bullets went wild, tearing up the grass of the level as the gun loosened in his hand.
For Rogersā rifle was spitting fire and smoke with venomous rapidity, and Deveny was sinking, his knees doubling under him, his body shuddering with the impact of each bullet.
Red Linton had recoveredāthere was no doubt of that. For Linton, though a trifle pale, was vigorous. Vigor was in the look of him as he stood, a slow grin on his face, beside Barbara Morgan at the entrance of the patio of the Rancho Seco ranchhouse.
Barbara was sitting on a bench that ranged the front wall of the building. She was arrayed in a dress of some soft, fluffy material, in which she made a picture that brought a breathless longing into Lintonās heartāa longing which made him feel strangely tender and sympathetic.
But Barbara was not smiling. There was a wistfulness in her eyes that made Linton gulp with jealous thoughts that came to him.
āHe donāt deserve it, the durned scalawag!ā
āDeserve what?ā questioned Barbara.
āYou,ā muttered Linton, with an embarrassed grin. āShucks, I wasnāt thinkinā I was talkinā out loud. Iām sure gettinā locoed.ā
āWho doesnāt deserve me?ā asked Barbara.
āHarlan!ā declared Linton, with a subtle glance at the girl. āHe aināt in no ways fit to be thinkinā serious thoughts about a girl like you.ā
āHas he been thinking serious thoughts?ā Her eyes dropped from Lintonās and the latter grinned widely.
āThinkinā them! Heās been talkinā them. Talked them all the time him anā me was stretched out in the big room, gettinā over our scratches. That man is plumb locoed. I couldnāt get him to talk nothinā else. When I told him about the governor sendinā him congratulations, anā offerinā to do somethinā handsome for him, he says: āYou say she aināt worryinā none about things? Red, do you think sheād hook up with a guy like meāthatās got a bad reputation?āā
Linton shot a side glance at Barbara and saw a flush steal into her cheeks. He concealed a broad grin with the palm of his hand and then said, gruffly:
āI answers him as such a impertinent question ought to be answered. Says IāāHarlan, youāre a damned fool!āāaskinā your pardon, maāam. A girl like Barbara Morgan aināt goinā to throw herself away on a no-good outlaw. Not none! Why, maāam, heās an outlaw at heart as well as by reputation. Heās clean badāthere aināt a bit of good in him. Didnāt he go to
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