'Drag' Harlan Part 18

"Quit! h.e.l.l's fire! I'm hangin' on to the finish. But I'm findin' out where you stand. What you meanin' to do with Barbara Morgan?"

Harlan grinned. "I answered that question when I appointed you foreman, Red. But I reckon I made a mistake--I ought to have appointed a man who knows what his think-box is for."

Linton flushed, and peered intently at the other.

"Meanin' that you're backin' Barbara in this here deal?" he demanded.

"A real thoughtful man would have tumbled to it quicker," was Harlan's soft, ironical reply.

For an instant Linton's gaze was intense with searching, probing inquiry.

And Harlan's steady eyes were agleam with a light that was so quietly honest that it made Linton gasp:

"d.a.m.n me! You mean it! You're playin' 'em straight, face up. 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."

Harlan laughed lowly.

"Things don't always shape up the way a man thinks they will, Red. I started for Lamo, figurin' to salivate Dolver an' the other guy who killed Davey Langan. I got Dolver at Sentinel Rock, an' I figured I'd be likely to run into the other guy somewheres--mebbe findin' him in Deveny's gang. But runnin' into Lane Morgan sort of changed the deal. An'

now I'm postponin' a lot of things until Barbara Morgan is runnin' free, with no coyotes from the Deveny crowd tryin' to rope her."

Linton's eyes were glowing, he crowded close to Harlan, so close that his body touched Harlan's, and he stood thus for an instant, breathing fast.

Then, noting the unwavering, genial gleam in Harlan's eyes--a visible sign of Harlan's knowledge of his deep emotion--Linton seized one of the other's hands and gripped it tightly.

"d.a.m.n your hide," he said, lowly, "you had me goin'. I'm dead set on seein' that girl git a square deal, an' when I saw you makin' a play for them d.a.m.ned outlaws that are in the outfit, I sure figured there'd be h.e.l.l a-poppin' around the Rancho Seco. You sure had me flabbergasted when you named me foreman, for I couldn't antic.i.p.ate your trail none.

"But I reckon I'm wised up, now. You're goin' to run a whizzer in on 'em--playin' 'em for suckers. An' I'm your right-hand man--stickin' with you until h.e.l.l runs long on icebergs!"

CHAPTER XIV

SHADOWS

A desire to ride once more in the peaceful suns.h.i.+ne of the land she loved was one of the first indications that Barbara was recovering from the shock occasioned by her father's death. For two or three days she had not stirred from her room, except to go downstairs to cook her meals. She had spent much of her time sitting at a window nursing her sorrow.

But on this morning she got out of bed feeling more composed than usual, with several new emotions struggling for the mastery. One of those emotions was that of intolerance.

Harlan's a.s.sumption of authority enraged her. He had come to the Rancho Seco with no credentials other than his mere word that her father had forced him to promise to "take hold" of "things." And she intended, this very morning, to send Harlan away, and to a.s.sume control of the ranch herself.

This determination held until after she had breakfasted, and then she stood for a long time in the kitchen door, looking out into the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne, afflicted with a strange indecision.

Harlan _had_ helped to fill the void created by her father's death--that was certain. There had been something satisfying in his presence at the ranch; it had seemed to mean an a.s.surance for her safety; she had felt almost as fully protected as when her father had been with her. It angered her to see him moving about the place as though he had a perfect right to be there, but at the same time she felt comfortably certain that as long as he was around no harm could come to her.

Her emotions were so contradictory that she could not reach a decision regarding the action she should take and she bit her lips with vexation as she stood in the doorway.

Later, her cheeks a little flushed with the realization that she was surrendering to an emotion that she could not understand--but which, she decided guiltily, her face crimson, had its inception in a conviction that she would regret seeing Harlan ride away, to return no more--she went to the corral, roped her pony, threw saddle and bridle on it, mounted the animal, and rode away--westward.

She had not traveled more than half a mile when she heard the rapid beating of hoofs behind her. Glancing swiftly backward, she saw Purgatory coming, Harlan in the saddle, smoking a cigarette.

Her pulses leaped, unaccountably, and the crimson flush again stained her cheeks; but she sat rigid in the saddle, and looked straight ahead, pretending she had not discovered the presence of horse and rider behind her.

She rode another half mile before the flush died out of her cheeks. And then, responding to a swift indignation, she brought Billy to a halt, wheeled him, and sat motionless in the saddle, her face pale, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

With apparent unconcern Harlan rode toward her. The big black horse did not change his pace, nor did Harlan change expression. It seemed to the girl that in both horse and rider were a steadfastness of purpose that nothing could change. And despite her indignation, she felt a thrill of admiration for both man and horse.

Yet her eyes were still flas.h.i.+ng ominously when Harlan rode to within a dozen paces of her and brought the big black to a halt.

There was an expression of grave respect on Harlan's face; but she saw a lurking devil in his eyes--a gleam of steady, quizzical humor--that made her yearn to use her quirt on him. For by that gleam she knew he had purposely followed her; that he expected her to be angry with him for doing so. And the gleam also told her that he had determined to bear with her anger.

"Well?" she inquired, icily.

"Good mornin', ma'am." He bowed to her, sweeping his broad-brimmed hat from his head with, it seemed to her, an ironical flourish.

"Is there something you want to speak to me about?" she asked, her chin elevated, disdain in her eyes. She a.s.sured herself that when he glanced at her as he was doing at this instant, she positively hated him. She wondered why she had tolerated his presence.

"I wasn't havin' any thoughts about speakin' to you, ma'am. Kind of a nice mornin' for a ride, ain't it?"

"If one rides alone," she returned, significantly.

"I enjoy ridin' a whole lot better when I've got company," he stated, gravely, with equal significance.

"Meaning that you have made up your mind to ride with me, I suppose?" she said coldly.

"You've hit it, ma'am."

"Well," she declared, her voice quivering with pa.s.sion; "I don't want you to ride with me. You came here and usurped whatever power and authority there is; and you are running the Rancho Seco as though it belongs to you. But you shan't ride with me--I don't want you to!"

Had she been standing she must have stamped one foot on the ground, so vehement was her manner. And the flas.h.i.+ng scorn of her eyes should have been enough to discourage most men.

But not Harlan. His eyelids flickered with some emotion; and his eyes--she noted now, even though she could have killed him for his maddening insistence--were blue, and rimmed by heavy lashes that sun and sand had bleached until the natural brown of them threatened to become a light tan.

She studied him, even while hating him for she saw the force of him--felt it. And though she was thinking spiteful things of him, she found that she was forming a new impression of him--of his character, his appearance, and of the motives that controlled him.

And she thought she knew why men avoided having trouble with him. She told herself that if she were a man and she were facing him with violence in her heart, she would consider seriously before she betrayed it to him.

For in his eyes, in the lips, in the thrust of his chin--even in the atmosphere that surrounded him at this instant, was a threat, an unspoken promise, lingering and dormant, of complete readiness--almost eagerness, she was convinced--for violence.

She drew a sharp breath as she watched him. And when she saw his lips curving into a slight smile--wholesome, though grave; with a hint of boyish amus.e.m.e.nt in them--she got another quick impression of his character, new and startling and illuminating.

For behind the hard, unyielding exterior that he presented to men; back of the promise and the threat of violence, was the impulsiveness and the gentleness that would have ruled him had not the stern necessity of self-preservation forced him to conceal them.

The smile disarmed her. It _did_ seem ludicrous--that she should try to force this man to do anything he did not want to do. And she had known that he would not obey her, and ride back to the ranchhouse; she was convinced that she must either go back or suffer him to follow her as he pleased.

And she was determined not to give up her ride. She was determined to be very haughty about it, though; but when she wheeled Billy, to head him again into the western distance, her eyes twinkled her surrender, and her lips trembled on the verge of a defiant smile.

Then Billy felt the quirt on his flank; he snorted with astonishment and disgust, and charged forward, tossing his head intolerantly.

Looking sidelong, after Billy had traveled two or three hundred yards, Barbara observed that the big black horse was not more than half a dozen steps behind. And curiously, Barbara again experienced that comfortable a.s.surance of protection, and of satisfaction over the nearness of Harlan.