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Updated: June 13, 2025
He flicked a thumb westward, and stared at Lanpher with bright eyes. Lanpher's eyes dropped, lifted, then veered toward Alicran Skeel, that appreciative observer, who continued to sit his horse as good as gold and silent as a clam. Lanpher turned to his horse without another word, slid the reins over the animal's neck and crossed them slackly. He stuck toe in stirrup and swung up.
He looked down at Molly where she stood dumbly, her troubled eyes gazing at nothing and the fingers of one hand slowly plaiting and unplaiting a corner of her apron. Lanpher opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words issued. For Racey had coughed a peremptory cough. Lanpher turned his horse's head toward the creek.
"Who's yore friend?" asked Marie, an insolent lift to her upper lip and a slightly puzzled look in her brown eyes as her gaze followed the stranger and Lanpher. "Friend?" said Racey. "Speaking personal, now, I ain't lost either of 'em." "I know who Lanpher is," she told him, impatiently. "I meant the other." "I'll never tell yuh. I dunno him." "I think I've seen him somewhere sometime.
"Which yo're the most nervous gent I ever did see. The hotel ain't close enough for anybody to hear a word, and there's only hosses in the corral. Get a-hold of yoreself. Don't be so skittish." "I ain't skittish. I'm sensible. I know " Lanpher broke off abruptly. "What do you know?" "What yo're due to find out." "Now lookit here, Mr.
Having ridden for Lanpher in the days preceding his employment by the Cross-in-a-box and consequently provided with many opportunities for studying the gentleman at arm's-length, Racey naturally assumed that the deal was a shady one. Personally, he believed Lanpher capable of anything. Which of course was unjust to the manager.
"What did the boss say when him and Lanpher got here and found old Dale gone?" he asked, carelessly. "He raised hell," replied McFluke. "But Lanpher wasn't with him. Yuh know old Dale hates Lanpher like poison. Well, I told Jack, like I tell you, that if anything slips up account o' this, Peaches Austin can take the blame."
The manager was not the man either to engender or to foster personal loyalty. At the open doorway of the office Racey dismounted. He dropped the reins over his horse's head and walked to the doorway. There he stopped and looked in. He saw Lanpher sitting behind his big homemade desk. Lanpher was watching him. At one side of the desk, on a chair tilted back against the wall, sat Luke Tweezy.
How about the 88 ranch?" "'The 88?" repeated Jack Harpe in a tone of surprise. "What'll I have to do with the 88, I'd like to know?" "I dunno," said Racey, his eyes more stupid than ever. "I was just a-wonderin'." Jack Harpe laughed without a sound. It seemed to be a habit of his to laugh silently. "You saw me with Lanpher, didn't you? Well, Lanpher and I are just friends, thassall.
Lanpher," said the stranger in a low, cold tone, "you said those last words a leetle too gayful to suit me. If yo're planning any skulduggery don't." "I ain't. Not a bit of it. But I got my duty to my company. I can't get mixed up in any fraycas on yore account, because if I do my ranch will lose money. That's the flat of it." "Oh, it is, huh? Yore ranch will lose money if you back me up, hey?
"Dale has turned over the place to Lanpher and me." "It's a damn lie!" declared Chuck. Tweezy smiled. He was a lawyer, not a fighter. Names signified nothing in his greasy life. "It's no lie," he tossed back. "You know Lanpher and me bought the mortgage on the Dale place from the Marysville bank. The mortgage is due in a couple of days. Dale didn't have the money to satisfy the mortgage.
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