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Updated: June 13, 2025
Laskar was still groaning, and finally Harlan walked to him and pushed him with a contemptuous foot. "Get up, you sneak!" he ordered. And Laskar, groaning, holding his chest where Purgatory's hoofs had struck him staggered to his feet and looked with piteously pleading eyes at the big man who stood near him, unmoved by the spectacle of suffering he presented.
"Day before yesterday Dolver an' me meets up in Lamo, an' Dolver asks me to help him give Morgan his pass-out checks on the ride over to Pardo which Morgan's intendin' to make. I ain't got any love for Morgan, an' so I took Dolver up." "You're a liar!" Harlan's fingers were sinking into Laskar's shoulder again, and once more the man screamed with pain and impotent fury. "I swear " began Laskar.
Harlan caught the glance, smiled mirthlessly and spoke shortly to Laskar: "I told you to keep hittin' the breeze till there wasn't any more breeze," he said. "I ought to have bored you out there by the red rock. I gave you your chance. Flash your gun!" "Harlan!" This was Gage. His voice sounded as though it had been forced out: it was hoarse and hollow.
Lamo wouldn't please me none if I was to find you there when I ride in. You slope, now an' keep on hittin' the breeze until there ain't no more of it. I'd blow you apart if this man Morgan was anything to me. But it ain't my game unless I see you again." He watched until Laskar, still holding his chest, walked to where the two horses were concealed, and mounted one of them.
An' they always let him off because it's mighty plain that the other guy tried to draw first." "I've heard that," said Deveny slowly. "What's his record?" "Plays her a lone hand," returned Rogers. He watched the other steadily. Deveny toyed with a glass as he gazed out of the window. There was a cold, sullen gleam in his eyes when he finally looked at Laskar.
But after he had questioned Laskar and had felt that Laskar was not the accomplice of Dolver in the murder of Langan he had determined to go to the ranch, and had told Morgan of his determination. Now, sitting on the threshold of the Rancho Seco bunkhouse, he realized that his talk with Morgan had brought him here in a different rôle than he had anticipated.
Deveny paused, the sentence unfinished, for the girl turned abruptly from him and walked to Harlan. "That was Laskar the man you killed just now?" "Laskar an' Dolver," relied Harlan. "There was three of them your father said. One got away in the night, leavin' Dolver an' Laskar to finish the job. I run plumb into them, crossin' here from Pardo.
That talk of yourn about Lane Morgan makin' you manager was straight goods. I know Dolver an' Laskar an' the guy they call 'Chief' plugged Morgan for I heard Stroud an' some more of them talkin' about it. An' I heard that you got Dolver an' Laskar, an' kept Deveny from grabbin' off Barbara Morgan, over in Lamo. But I thought you was playin' for Barbara, too an' I wasn't figurin' on lettin' you."
Laskar was lying in the sand near the base of the rock, doubled up and groaning loudly, while Purgatory, his nostrils distended, his eyes ablaze, was standing over the weapons that lay in the sand, watching the groaning man malignantly. Harlan returned to the wounded man, to find that he had collapsed and was breathing heavily.
For an instant it seemed that the other man was to share the fate of the first. The man seemed to think so, too, for he got up trembling, his hands outstretched along the rock, the fingers outspread and twitching from the paralysis of fear that had seized him. "Shoot your gab off quick!" commanded the rider. "Who are you?" "I'm Laskar," the man muttered. "Where you from?" "Lamo."
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