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Updated: May 9, 2025
Then, with the gaze of every man in the outfit upon him, he strode toward the stable, where Lanky and Poggs were standing, having witnessed the death of their confederate. They stiffened to immobility as they watched Harlan's approach, knowing that for them the incident was not closed their guilt plain in their faces.
They remained in their places while Harlan understanding that Poggs and Lanky would not accept his invitation spoke gruffly to them: "This camp ain't got any room for skunks that go to framin' up on any of the boys. Today you done it to me tomorrow you'd try to pull it off on some other guy. "You're travelin' pronto. You're gettin' your cayuses.
They were lounging in the grass, laughingly pitting their skill against one another, while another group, in front of the stable, was diligently repairing saddles. Apart from the two groups were Lanky, Poggs, and Latimer. They were standing near the corral fence, about a hundred feet from where Harlan sat.
He saw them watching him always with curling lip and truculent eye; he heard references to his ability from them scraps of conversation in which such terms and phrases as "a false alarm, mebbe," "he don't look it," "wears 'em for show, I reckon," were used. He had learned the names of the men; there were three of them, known merely as "Lanky," "Poggs," and "Latimer."
And when Harlan halted in front of them they stood, not moving a muscle, their eyes searching Harlan's face for signs that they too, were to receive a demonstration of the man's uncanny cleverness. "You was backin' Latimer's play," said Harlan, shortly. "I'm aimin' to play the string out. Pull or I'll blow you apart!" Poggs and Lanky did not "pull."
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