'Drag' Harlan Part 27

It was also curious to note that something of the same pa.s.sion was revealed in Harlan's eyes as they rested on the partially closed lids of the other--for there was triumph there, too--and comprehension, and craft of a kind that might have disturbed Haydon, had he seen it.

Then their hands parted, mutually, and Haydon grinned smoothly and with apparent cordiality at Harlan. He grasped Harlan by an elbow and urged him toward the door through which the latter had entered.

"I'll give you a knockdown to the boys, now--those that are here," he said.

An hour later--after Haydon and the dozen men to whom he had introduced Harlan had watched Harlan ride eastward through the valley toward the Rancho Seco--Haydon rode westward, accompanied by several of the men.

They rode for many miles into the heart of the big basin, coming at last to a gorge that wound a serpentine way southward, through some concealing hills, into a smaller basin. A heavy timber clump grew at the mouth of the gorge, hiding it from view from the trail that ran through the valley. Some rank underbrush that fringed the timber gave the mouth of the gorge the appearance of a shallow cave, and a wall of rock, forming a ragged arch over the entrance, heightened the impression. At first glance the place seemed to be impenetrable.

But the hors.e.m.e.n filed through easily enough, and the underbrush closed behind them, so that, had they been seen, the watcher might have been startled by their sudden disappearance.

Near the center of the little basin stood a huge cabin, built of adobe, with a flat roof. In a small corral were a number of cattle. Grazing upon the gra.s.s, with which the place was carpeted, were many horses; and lounging in the gra.s.s near the cabin, and upon some benches that ranged its walls, were perhaps a dozen men, heavily armed.

Several of the men grinned as the newcomers rode in and dismounted, and one or two spoke a short greeting to Haydon, calling him "Chief."

Haydon did not linger to talk with the men, though; he dismounted and entered the cabin, where, an instant later, he was talking with Deveny.

Haydon's eyes were still triumphant--glowing with a malignant satisfaction.

"He's wise--and dead tickled to join," he told Deveny, referring to Harlan. "And I took him in on his own terms. We'll play him along, making him believe he's regular and right, until we get what we want. Then we'll down him!"

At about the time Haydon was talking with Deveny, Harlan was dismounting at the Rancho Seco corral.

The T Down men were variously engaged--some of them in the corral; others in the stable, and still others in the blacksmith-shop--all attending to their new duties--and only Red Linton was at the corral gate to greet Harlan.

Triumph was in Harlan's eyes as he grinned at Linton.

"I'm a Simon-pure outlaw now, Red," he stated. "Haydon didn't hesitate none. He's a sneakin', schemin' devil, an' he hates me like poison. But he took me in, reckonin' to play me for a sucker. Looks like things might be interestin'." He grinned. "I'm yearnin' for grub, Red."

Later, while Harlan was seated at a table in the cook shanty, he became aware of a shadow at the door; and he wheeled, to see Barbara Morgan looking in at him, her face flushed, a glow in her eyes that was entirely comprehensible to Harlan.

She was glad he had returned--any man with half Harlan's wisdom could have told that! And color of a kind not caused by the wind and sun suffused Harlan's face.

She had seen him from one of the kitchen windows, and curiosity--and an impatience that would not permit of delay--had brought her to search for him.

"Why," she said, "I--I thought--didn't you say that you were going away?"

"Didn't I go?" he grinned.

"For a day," she taunted, her voice leaping.

"A day," he said gravely; "why, it was longer than that, wasn't it? Seems that I ain't seen you for years an' years!"

He got up, his hunger forgotten. But when he reached the door he saw her running toward the ranchhouse, not even looking back. He stood watching her until she opened a door and vanished. Then he grinned and returned to his neglected food, saying aloud, after the manner of men who spend much time in open places: "I'll sure take care of her, Morgan."

CHAPTER XX

LEFT-HANDED

Harlan's statement to Haydon, to the effect that he had visited the camps of Kelso, Rance, Larkin, and other outlaws had been strictly accurate. At one time or another each of those outlaw leaders had sent for Harlan, to endeavor to prevail upon him to cast his lot with them--so common was the report that Harlan was of their type.

And he had been able--as he had told Haydon--to go among them with impunity--unmolested, respected. And even after he had refused to join they had extended him the courtesy of faith--not even swearing him to secrecy. And he had vindicated their faith by keeping silent regarding them.

Knowing, however, that the ethics of men of the type of Kelso, Rance, Larkin, and others provided a safe conduct for any man of their kind that came among them, Harlan had felt contempt for Haydon for his threat. And yet Harlan's rage on that occasion had been largely surface; it had been displayed for effect--to force an instant decision from Haydon.

Harlan was aware that his only hope of protecting Barbara Morgan from Haydon and Deveny was in an offensive war. He could not expect to wage such a war by remaining idly at the Rancho Seco, to await the inevitable aggressions of the outlaws, for he did not know when they would strike, nor how. It was certain they would strike, and it was as certain they would strike when he least expected them to.

Therefore he had determined to join them, depending upon his reputation to allay any suspicion they might have regarding his motives. Haydon had taken him into the band, but Harlan had been convinced that Haydon distrusted him. He had seen distrust in Haydon's eyes; and he had known, when Haydon dropped his gaze at the instant they had shaken hands, that the man meditated duplicity.

Yet Harlan was determined to appear ignorant that Haydon meditated trickery. He intended to go among the men and deliberately to ignore the threatened dangers--more, to conduct himself in such a manner that Haydon would not suspect that he knew of any danger.

It had been a slight incident that had suggested the plan to him--merely a glance at Strom Rogers, while the latter, in Lamo, had been watching Deveny.

Harlan had seen hatred in Rogers' face, and contempt and jealousy; and he knew that where such pa.s.sion existed it could be made to grow and flourish by suggestion and by example.

And he was determined to furnish the example.

He knew something of the pa.s.sions of men of the type which const.i.tuted the band headed by Deveny and Haydon; he knew how their pa.s.sions might be played upon; he was aware of their respect and admiration for men of notorious reputation, with records for evil deeds and rapid "gunslinging."

He had seen how Strom Rogers had watched him--with awed respect; he had seen approval in Rogers' eyes when they had exchanged glances in Lamo; and he had heard men in the group in front of the sheriff's office speaking of him in awed whispers.

He had never been affected by that sort of adulation--in Lamo or in the days that preceded his visit to the town. But he was not unmindful of the advantage such adulation would give him in his campaign for control of the outlaw camp. And that was what he had determined to achieve.

Three times in as many days he rode up the valley to the Star, each time talking with Haydon--then leaving the latter to go out and lounge around among the men, listening to their talk, but taking little part in it. He did not speak until he was spoken to, and thus he challenged their interest, and they began to make advances to him.

Their social structure was flimsy and thin, their fellowship as spontaneous as it was insincere; and within a few days the edge had worn off the strangeness that had surrounded Harlan, and he had been accepted with hardly a ripple of excitement.

And yet no man among them had achieved intimacy with Harlan. There was a cold constraint in his manner that held them off, figuratively, barring them from becoming familiar with him. Several of them tried familiarity, and were astonished to discover that they had somehow failed--though they had been repelled so cleverly that they could not resent it.

Harlan had established a barrier without them being aware of how he had done it--the barrier of authority and respect, behind which he stood, an engaging, saturnine, interesting, awe-compelling figure.

At the end of a week the men of the Star outfit were addressing him as "boss;" listening to him with respect when he spoke, striving for his attention, and trying to win from him one of those rare smiles with which he honored those among them whose personalities interested him.

At the end of two weeks half of the Star outfit was eager to obey any order he issued, while the remainder betrayed some slight hesitation--which, however, vanished when Harlan turned his steady gaze upon them.

Behind their acceptance of him, though--back of their seeming willingness to admit him to their peculiar fellowship--was a reservation. Harlan felt it, saw it in their eyes, and noted it in their manner toward him. They had heard about him; they knew something of his record; reports of his cleverness with a weapon had come to them. And they were curious.

There was speculation in the glances they threw at him; there was some suspicion, cynicism, skepticism, and not a little doubt. It seemed to Harlan that though they had accepted him they were impatiently awaiting a practical demonstration of those qualities that had made him famous in the country. They wanted to be "shown."

Their wild, unruly pa.s.sions and lurid imaginations were the urges that drove them--that shaped their conduct toward their fellows. Some of them were rapid gunslingers--in the picturesque idioms of their speech--and there was not a man among them who did not take pride in his ability to "work" his gun. They had accepted Harlan, but it was obvious that among them were some that doubted the veracity of rumor--some who felt that Harlan had been overrated.

It did not take Harlan long to discover who those doubting spirits were.