tterly contemptuous. He placed the other hand on
Laskar's shoulder and forced the man to look into his eyes.

"You're a liar, but I'm lettin' you off. You're a sneak with Greaser
blood in you. I don't ever want to see you again. I'm goin' to Lamo--soon
as this man Morgan cashes in. I'll be there some time tomorrow. Lamo
wouldn't please me none if I was to find you there when I ride in. You
slope, now--an' keep on hittin' the breeze until there ain't no more of
it. I'd blow you apart if this man Morgan was anything to me. But it
ain't my game unless I see you again."

He watched until Laskar, still holding his chest, walked to where the two
horses were concealed, and mounted one of them. When Laskar, leaning over
the pommel of the saddle, had grown dim in the haze that was settling
over the desert, Harlan scowled and returned to the wounded man.

To his astonishment, Morgan was conscious--and a cold calmness seemed to
have come over him. His eyes were filled with a light that told of
complete knowledge and resignation. He half smiled as Harlan knelt beside
him.

"I'm about due, I reckon," he said. "I heard you talkin' to the man you
just let get away. It don't make any difference--about _him_. I reckon he
was just a tool, anyway. There's someone behind this bigger than Dolver
an' that man Laskar. He didn't tell you?"

Harlan shook his head negatively, watching the other intently.

"I didn't reckon he would," said Morgan. "But there's _somebody_." He
gazed long into Harlan's face, and the latter gazed steadily back at him.
He seemed to be searching Harlan's face for signs of character.

Harlan stood the probing glance well--so that at last Morgan smiled,
saying slowly: "It's funny--damned funny. About faces, I mean. Your
reputation--it's bad. I've been hearin' about you for a couple of years
now. An' I've been lookin' at you an' tryin' to make myself say, 'Yes,
he's the kind of a guy which would do the things they say he's done.'

"I can't make myself say it; I can't even make myself think it. Either
you're a mighty good actor, or you're the worst-judged man I ever met.
Which is it?"

"Mostly all of us get reputations we don't deserve," said Harlan lowly.

Morgan's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Meanin' that you don't deserve
yours?" he said.

"I reckon there's been a heap of lyin' goin' on about me."

For a long time Morgan watched the other, studying him. The long twilight
of the desert descended and foun