The Complete Novels of Ernest Haycox. Ernest Haycox

driving at, Al?"

      Al pointed at the departing Wilgus. "As an attorney I aim to get a square deal for Tuggs. As a human being I aim to give that miserable man the biggest kick in the pants he ever never got and should have had."

      Cal Steele walked out with Langdell and beckoned the two. "Come along with us, will you? I want some witnesses to a deal."

      The four proceeded past the Palace to the street's end, circled the last building, and climbed to Langdell's office. Langdell pulled down the shades against a beating sun, and reached for the inevitable bottle and glasses.

      "I am of the belief," he told Niland, "this is going to be a drawn-out case."

      "It is big with possibilities," Niland gravely assured him, "and fraught with consequences that may echo down the corridors of time."

      "It is my suspicion you're going to leave no stone unturned," proceeded Langdell.

      "If I find any stone unturned," Niland assured him, "I'll fire the stone turner."

      "Justice must be done," stated Langdell, lifting his glass.

      "We shall do justice and others," cheerfully acquiesced Niland, and they drank. Langdell settled in his chair, very slightly smiling.

      "As attorney for my client, a most worthy man," he drawled dryly, "I shall check you at every turn, match you witness for witness, dollar for dollar."

      "By George, that's fine!" exclaimed Niland. "You know damned well I don't like you, and you don't like me. But, reserving that state of mind for the present, I'll say you're sometimes halfways human."

      Langdell flushed. "I suppose we must all have our fun before we die, Niland. As for disliking you, I seldom let anybody become so large in my mind as to spend time wasting emotion on him."

      "Hah!" grunted Niland, sarcasm creeping into his words. "Now you're mounting the ivory pedestal again. You ought to let your humor out for air more often."

      Denver sat back and studied these men through half-lidded eyes. Niland never minced his words and never failed to sting Fear Langdell with those short jabs of reckless, cynical truth. Langdell stared back at his opponent, mouth pressed grimly together, stiffly resentful. These were two absolutely opposite kinds of men. Denver understood the openhanded Niland very well; understood and sympathized with his friend's impulsive kindliness and sharp brain. But he had never yet penetrated that well- guarded mask Colonel Fear Langdell threw in front of his mind. There was, he felt, always some remote thought, some deep feeling moving secretively in Langdell's body.

      "Well," broke in Cal Steele, "you fellows are out of court, so why fight? All I wanted you two for was to witness an agreement Langdell and I have drawn up. I'm selling him three hundred and fifty head of stock."

      "Sign here," said Langdell, shoving the conveyance over the table and indicating the appropriate place. Niland dashed off his name hurriedly. Dave followed suit.

      "Why don't you market your own beef?" he asked Steele.

      "Langdell ships five times as much as I do," replied Steele, lazily accepting Langdell's check. "So I find it easier to take a profit this way than to do my own shipping. As a matter of fact, I'm going to go over to a feeder business one of these days. Buy, feed, and sell to a shipper like the Colonel here. Good business."

      "Good for you, good for me," agreed Langdell. "Any time you want to dicker again let me know."

      "I'll be around in maybe two months," said Cal Steele and got up. Leaving Langdell in his office, the three went back to the street. At Grogan's Steele tipped his head suggestively. "Let's damp down the dust, boys."

      "Leave me out of it," drawled Denver. "I've got further business. And by the way of a parting benediction I will gently suggest this is no time to drink."

      "Go with God," murmured Cal Steele indolently. "Any time's time to drink. Make up your mind about this girl proposition, Dave. I'm second best man, either way, understand. Come on, Al. You haven't got religion yet."

      Niland followed Steele into the saloon, and they took their familiar corner at the bar, broaching a bottle. Niland studied his friend critically. "You," he announced, "are a fool. Why stand aside in favor of Dave? You know he hasn't got his mind set on Lola."

      "How do I know it? How do you know it?" Steele's face settled to unusual soberness. "Tell me that."

      "I know it because I know Dave," replied Niland emphatically. "Maybe he hasn't got his mind made up. Maybe he's thinkin' back to the time when he and Lola were a little younger, a little wilder and more headstrong. Maybe he's wondering. But I know what the answer will be. He'll swing to his own kind. Lola's one thing. Dave's another. At heart, Cal, you're more her style than Dave is."

      Steele looked shrewdly at Niland. "That's not a bad guess. How much do you know about me, anyhow?"

      Niland said quickly, "I never pry into a man's life. You know that. I take you for granted."

      "Hm," muttered Steele. For quite an interval the two men stood still. Then Steele spoke, rather abruptly, rather sadly. "Nevertheless, a man can't keep himself hidden, even if he sealed his mouth. Every act exposes him. As far as Dave is concerned, I'd rather cut off my neck than hurt him. So I stay away. You heard me tell him I was a second-choice man, didn't you? Well, I am. As far as he's involved. I'll be that as long as I live—gladly."

      He had touched some deep vein of thought. Downing his glass, he went on. "Some men have the power of drawing others. Not very many. Dave has. Look at us. I've got more education than he has. You've got a mind that cuts deeper and farther into truth than he has. But what of it? Dave is a better man than both of us put together. Why? Because he never varies from that burning light of conscience. He never strays from himself, never seems to falter. Time and again I've seen him come against some tough problem and decide one way or the other without flinching. He thinks he's a skeptic, as we are; that's one reason he likes us so well. But he could no more be the sort of purposeless fool that I am than fly to Mars. There's an enormous force driving him straight ahead."

      "Which brings us to another item," grunted Niland, favoring the bottle. "He's bound to drive straight into opposition at the rate things are balling up in Yellow Hill. His neutral stand leaves him high and dry—right out in the daylight to be shot at."

      Steele's fine face was tremendously sober and oddly set. "Listen, the most damnable visions keep coming to me, night after night. Faces staring at me from behind a bloody film. Sounds nutty, doesn't it? I have risen from a solid sleep with the horrible thing right in my eyes. I have heard shots, and men groaning. Sometimes the film thins out, and I think I see one of those faces and recognize it as my own. Sometimes I think I see Dave. Sometimes Lou Redmain. But when I reach out and am just on the point of identifying them, the bloody haze falls down."

      "Cut that out," admonished Niland, "or I'll get the willies."

      Steele's eyes were blackly brooding. "I've always been a fellow to take things as they came along. Never worrying much. Life's always been pretty easy, pretty full of sunshine. But for two months, night and day, I have felt as if I were drifting along toward darkness. I keep looking around me, and the sun's there, and the stars are there—the world's just the same as it always was. But still that ungodly black curtain keeps coming nearer and I'm heading for it. What's behind it—who knows?"

      "Stop that," said Niland sharply. "You know what you need? You need to go over to the Palace, get one of the girls to sit beside you, and then drink hard."

      "It's been tried before," said Steele and pulled himself out of his stark mood with visible effort. "The kind of forgetfulness one buys at the Palace only lasts so long. Well, I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and fair pastures were mine by heritage. But my star is a restless one and sometimes dark in the sky. The brightest spot in this little flicker of existence that is me comes from knowing I am a friend of Dave's. What's the matter with that bottle—leakin'?"

      "The Palace is across the street and three doors down," said Niland.

      DARK