l, looking up into the rider's face, his
eyes glowing with defiance.

"No chance for that even, eh?" he said, glancing at the paper and the
pistol. "Things is goin' plumb wrong!"

He sagged back, resting his weight on the right elbow, and looked
steadily at the rider--the look of a wounded animal defying his pursuers.

"Get goin'!" he jeered. "Do your damnedest! I heard that sneak, Dolver,
yappin' to you. You're 'Drag' Harlan--gun-fighter, outlaw, killer! I've
heard of you," he went on as he saw Harlan scowl and stiffen. "Your
reputation has got all over. I reckon you're in the game to salivate me."

Harlan sheathed his gun.

"You're talkin' extravagant, mister man." And now he permitted a cold
smile to wreathe his lips. "If it'll do you any good to know," he added,
"I've just put Dolver out of business."

"I heard that, too," declared the man, laughing bitterly. "I heard you
tellin' Dolver. He killed your partner--or somethin'. That's personal,
an' I ain't interested. Get goin'--the sooner the better. If you'd hand
it to me right now, I'd be much obliged to you; for I'm goin' fast. This
hole in my chest--which I got last night while I was sleepin'--will do
the business without any help from you."

After a pause for breath, the man began to speak again, railing at his
would-be murderers. He was talking ramblingly when there came a sound
from the opposite side of the rock--a grunt, a curse, and, almost
instantly, a shriek.

The wounded man raised himself and threw a glance of startled inquiry at
Harlan: "What's that?"

Harlan watched the man steadily.

"I reckon that'll be that man Laskar," he said slowly. "I lifted his gun
an' his rifle, an' Dolver's gun, an' throwed them under Purgatory--my
horse. Laskar has tried to get them, an' Purgatory's raised some
objection."

He stepped back and peered around the rock. 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 some minutes Harlan stood, looking down at him; then he knelt in the
sand beside him and lifted his head. The man's eyes were closed, and
Harlan laid his head down again and examined the wound in his chest.

He shook his head as he got up, went to Purgatory, and got