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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Why don't you wanna appear in this business?" persisted the stranger, pivoting on one heel in order to keep face to face with Lanpher. "I gotta live here," was the Lanpher reply. "Well, ain't I gotta live here, too, and I don't see anything round here to worry me. S'pose old Chin Whisker does go on the prod. What can he do?"
But Lanpher overlooked the poorly veiled insult, and switched his gaze to Molly Dale. "I just rid over to say," he told her, "that if yore paw is still set on renewing the mortgage when he comes back from Marysville he'll have to see me and Luke Tweezy at the 88. We done bought that mortgage from the bank." Molly Dale said nothing.
Lanpher snarled curses at this. He yearned for the daredevil courage sufficient to risk all on a single throw by pulling his gun left-handed and sending a bullet smack through the scornful face of Racey Dawson. But it was precisely as Racey said. He did not have the nerve. With half-a-dozen drinks under his belt he undoubtedly would have made an attempt to clear his honour.
"It's a quadruplicate copy of an agreement between Lanpher of the 88 ranch, Jacob Pooley of Piegan City, and Luke Tweezy of Marysville, parties of the first part, and Jack Harpe, party of the second part, to buy or otherwise obtain possession of the ranch of William Dale, in the northeast corner of which property is located an abandoned mine tunnel in which Jack Harpe, the party of the second part, has discovered a gold-bearing lode."
"From what Harpe said to Lanpher, we know he's bound to get old Dale's ranch come hell or high water. But he don't say anything about that to us. No, not him. It's all Barbee and the Anvil, and he's as friendly as a dog with fleas. His actions don't fit with the facts, and when a man's actions don't do that they'll stand watchin', him and them both." "Fifty per ain't to be sneezed at."
"Day after to-morrow, I guess." "Yeah, I kind of guess he'd want to spend the night so's he could do business in the morning, huh?" The Lanpher smile grew even uglier. "He has some business to attend to in the morning, yes." "I kind of thought he would. Yeah. You don't happen to know the nature of his business, do you?"
But only in the regular course of business, Luke. I'm mighty busy just now. Yore eviction notice will have to take its turn." "My punchers will throw 'em out then," averred Lanpher. "They ain't nary a one of 'em would gorm up their paws on a job like that for you, Lanpher," Alicran stated in no uncertain tones. "If you got any dirty work to do you'll do it yoreself."
"That's all right," sulked Lanpher, then added, with a sudden flare of spite: "When I hired you as foreman I shore never expected to draw a skypilot full o' sermons into the bargain." "No?" drawled Alicran, looking hard at Lanpher. "I often wonder just what you did hire me for." On which Lanpher made no comment. "Yeah," resumed Alicran, the fish having failed to bite, "I often wonder about that.
"And if I were you I'd walk a heap careful between the rows. I just wouldn't go a-busting any more of these posies." Lanpher went. He went carefully. He was followed quite as carefully by Racey Dawson. When Lanpher was free of the neat rows he looked up venomously into the face of Alicran Skeel who had meticulously ridden round the garden.
But he was not carrying the requisite amount of liquor. Lanpher snarled another string of oaths. "If I didn't have my right arm in a sling " he began. "I guess," interrupted the sheriff, "this will be about all. Lanpher, yore hoss is outside. Git on and git out." "Lookit here, Judge," said Racey, earnestly, "do you mean to say yo're gonna let the sheriff serve them eviction papers?"
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