some water,
which he used to wipe away the dust and blood which had become matted
over the wound. He shook his head again after bathing the wound. The
wound meant death for the man within a short time. Yet Harlan forced some
water into the half-open mouth and bathed the man's face with it.

For a long time after Harlan ceased to work with him the man lay in a
stupor-like silence, limp and motionless, though his eyes opened
occasionally, and by the light in them Harlan knew the man was aware of
what he had been doing.

The sun was going now; it had become a golden, blazing ball which was
sinking over the peaks of some distant mountains, its fiery rays stabbing
the pale azure of the sky with brilliantly glowing shafts that threw off
ever-changing seas of color that blended together in perfect harmony.

Harlan alternately watched the wounded man and Laskar.

Laskar was still groaning, and finally Harlan walked to him and pushed
him with a contemptuous foot.

"Get up, you sneak!" he ordered. And Laskar, groaning, holding his
chest--where Purgatory's hoofs had struck him--staggered to his feet and
looked with piteously pleading eyes at the big man who stood near him,
unmoved by the spectacle of suffering he presented.

And when he found that Harlan gave him no sympathy, he cursed horribly.
This drew a cold threat from Harlan.

"Shut your rank mouth or I'll turn Purgatory loose on you--again. Lookin'
for sympathy, eh? How much sympathy did you give that hombre who's
cashin' in behind the rocks? None--damn you!"

It was the first flash of feeling Harlan had exhibited, and Laskar shrank
from him in terror.

But Harlan followed him, grasping him by a shoulder and gripping it with
iron fingers, so that Laskar screamed with pain.

"Who is that man?" Harlan motioned toward the rock.

"Lane Morgan. He owns the Rancho Seco--about forty miles south of Lamo,"
returned Laskar after a long look into Harlan's eyes.

"Who set you guys onto him--what you wantin' him for?"

"I don't know," whined Laskar. "Day before yesterday Dolver an' me meets
up in Lamo, an' Dolver asks me to help him give Morgan his pass-out
checks on the ride over to Pardo--which Morgan's intendin' to make. I
ain't got any love for Morgan, an' so I took Dolver up."

"You're a liar!"

Harlan's fingers were sinking into Laskar's shoulder again, and once more
the man screamed with pain and impotent fury.

"I swear--" began Laskar.

Harlan's grin was bi