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He knew what was happening Lazette had heard what Taggart had been saying about him, and was keeping aloof, giving him a clear field. Presently he entered the Red Dog. There were a dozen men here, drinking, playing cards, gambling. The talk died away as he entered; men sat silently at the tables, seeming to look at their cards, but in reality watching him covertly.
On the other hand, he put Texas Blanca out of business. Does that killing help to make him attractive?" "Wasn't Blanca his enemy. If you remember, you told father and me that Blanca sold him some stolen cattle. Then, according to what I have heard of the story, he met Blanca in Lazette, ordered him to leave, and when he didn't go he shot him.
Calumet had been in no hurry, though maintaining its steady chop-trot for most of the distance, Blackleg had set him down in Lazette in a little over two hours. Something had happened to Calumet. He had carefully considered the phenomenon all the way over from the Lazy Y; he considered it now as he sat sideways in the saddle before the rough board front of the Red Dog Saloon.
Several of the men, disturbed by Owen, had sat up, and were smoking and talking, and when he heard one of the men, named Blair, refer to a gunman, Watt Kelso, who had formerly graced Lazette with his presence, a light leaped into Owen's eyes, his teeth came together with a snap, his lips formed into straight lines, and he drew a slow, deep breath. For that was the word that had eluded him Kelso!
She was calmer when she reached the house, but went directly to her room, where she changed her clothes and sat for a long time at one of the windows, looking toward the river and toward Lazette. Downstairs, Uncle Jepson, who from a window of the bunkhouse had seen her come in, had followed her into the house, to remark grumblingly to Aunt Martha: "Willard didn't meet her, drat him!"
"There ain't nothin' unusual happened, except" and here he paused for a brief instant "that I had to shoot a man. It was Watt Kelso, from over Lazette way. I hired him two weeks before." "I heard of it," she returned steadily, her voice expressionless. "I hated like poison to do it. But I had no choice. He brought it on himself." "Yes, I suppose so," she said flatly.
The editor of the Eagle had replied with some bitterness, setting forth in detail why Dry Bottom did not compare with Lazette. As the editor of the Eagle mentioned population and civic spirit in his bill of particulars the war promised to be of long duration questions of superiority between spirited persons are never settled.
For the other not unusual irritating details that had combined to place her in this awkward position she could blame, first Duncan, the manager of the Double R who should have sent someone to meet her at the station; the station agent who had allowed her to set forth in search of the Double R without a guide, though even now, considering this phase of the situation, she remembered that the agent had told her there was no one to send and certainly the desolate appearance of Lazette had borne out this statement; and last, she could blame the country itself for being an unfeatured wilderness.
"The doctor isn't at Lazette; he is over on Carrizo Creek, taking care of Dave Moreland's wife, who is down bad. I saw Dave yesterday, and he was telling me about her; that the doctor is to stay there until she is out of danger. You don't know where Moreland's place is. Be sensible, now," he said gruffly. "I'll talk to you later about you suspecting me."
Dade followed him to the wagon, meekly enough now that he had received unmistakable proof that Taggart was Calumet's "game," and shortly afterward the wagon pulled out of Lazette and struck the trail toward the Lazy Y. Calumet had some thoughts on the subject but they were all inchoate and unsatisfying.
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