“You’ve said yore li’l piece,” he told Lanpher, “and for a feller who was bellyaching so loud about keeping out of this deal it strikes me yo’re a-getting in good and deep—­buying up mortgages and all.  Dunno what I mean, huh?  Yep, you do.  Shore you do.  Think back.  Think way back, and it’ll come to you.  Jack Harpe.  You know him.  Bossy-looking jigger, seemed like.  Has he been a-bearing down on you lately, Lanpher?  Mustn’t let him run you thataway.  Bad business.  Might be expensive.  You can’t tell.  You be careful, Lanpher.  You go slow—­a mite slow.  Yep.  Well, don’t lemme keep you.  This way out.”

He flicked a thumb westward, and stared at Lanpher with bright eyes.  Lanpher’s eyes dropped, lifted, then veered toward Alicran Skeel, that appreciative observer, who continued to sit his horse as good as gold and silent as a clam.

Lanpher turned to his horse without another word, slid the reins over the animal’s neck and crossed them slackly.  He stuck toe in stirrup and swung up.  He looked down at Molly where she stood dumbly, her troubled eyes gazing at nothing and the fingers of one hand slowly plaiting and unplaiting a corner of her apron.  Lanpher opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words issued.  For Racey had coughed a peremptory cough.

Lanpher turned his horse’s head toward the creek.

“Lookit here, Alicran,” the peevish Lanpher burst forth when he and his henchman had forded the creek and were riding westward, “whatsa matter with you, anyway?”

“With me?” Alicran tilted a questioning bead.  “I dunno.  I don’t feel a mite sick.”

“What do you think I hired you for?” Heatedly.

“Gawd he knows.”  Business of rolling a cigarette.

“Yo’re supposed to be a two-legged man with a gun.”

“Yeah?” Indifferently.

“Yeah, but I got my doubts—­now.  Hell’s bells!  Wasn’t you off to one side there when Racey pulled?  Wasn’t you?”

“Wasn’t you listenin’ to what Racey said at the time?  Wasn’t you?”

“After!  I mean after!  His gun was back hugging his leg after the girl slid in between.  What more of a chance didja want?”

“So that’s it, huh?”

“That’s—­it.”  Between the two words was a perceptible pause.

“I ain’t shootin’ nobody in the back.  I never have yet, and I ain’t beginnin’ now, not for you or any other damn man.”

“Say—­” began Lanpher, threateningly.

Alicran Skeel turned a grim face on his employer so suddenly and sharply that Lanpher almost dodged.

“Lookit here, Lanpher,” said he, quietly, “don’t you try to start nothin’ that I’ll have to finish.  I know you from way back, you lizard, and outside of my regular work I ain’t taking no orders from you.  Don’t gimme any more of yore lip.”

“Aw, I didn’t mean nothing, Alicran.  You ain’t got any call to get het.  I need you in the business.”

“Shore you do,” Alicran declared, contemptuously.  “You need me to do anything you ain’t got the nerve to do.”