d Mike wish to tangle with Gib--they had eate n too much dust and alkali together. Crac k Mason, and Gentry would get out fast; and afte r Mason, Stowe would have to make his fight.
Mike Shevlin was no fool. Pausin g briefly on the corner, he knew he was lookin g at an uncertain future. He was forcing thing s into the open now, but it was the only way h e knew how to act. Let the others play it cosy; h e had neither the time nor the patience.
First, he had to get Laine Tennison out o f town before the roof fell in. Even without that, h e would have enough trouble taking care of himself.
Bleakly, he thought of tomorrow, and knew that tomorrow' s sun might not shine upon his face. For he wa s walking into m trouble than he had ever tackled in hi s life, and he had no friends. He was alone, as h e had always been alone. And he would die alone , die somewhere up a canyon when his shells ran out , or his canteen was empty and his horse dead.
He had always known that was the way it would be. I t was hell, when a man came to think of it. He' d never felt sorry for himself, but right now ther e wasn't a soul anywhere in the world who would think o f it twice if he was killed. There was nobody wh o cared; and the odd part of it was, there never had been , as long as he could recall.
He had brushed aside such thoughts before; what wa s bringing them to mind now? Was there deep within him a realization of death? Was he really going to pay it ou t now?
He had never been in love, and so far as h e knew he had never been loved by a woman. Her e and there he had known women, some of them with affection , but it had gone no deeper than that. He knew h e was a one-woman man, and had always known it; and h e shied away now from the face that appeared sharply befor e his eyes. Not for him. Not for such as he, was a girl like Laine Tennison.
In the back of his mind there had always been th e vague idea that someday he would find the girl h e was looking for. He would buy himself a nice littl e spread, fix it up shipshape and cosy, an d maybe they'd have a couple of youngsters. ... H e was a hell of a person to have such ideas.
Mike Shevlin considered the present situatio n with care. He had really kicked over th e applecart, and no mistake. Wilson Hoy t would not sit still. He would at least mak e inquiries, try to take some steps to avoi d trouble. That Ben Stowe would also take steps would b e quite in keeping with the man as he remembered him.
At the livery stable Shevlin got his horse an d rode out of town, then circled around and came u p behind Dr. Rupert Clagg's place. There wer e tall cottonwoods behind the house, rustling thei r leaves in the faint stir of air.
Swinging down, he tied his hors e well into the deepest shadow of the trees. He mus t see Laine. He must warn her, and he must ge t her out of town if possible.
He moved toward the house and paused by a thic k old tree, listening into the night. From the kitche n came the faint clatter of dishes and the momentar y sound of a girl's voice lifted in talk.
Something stirred in the grass near him, and a moment later a voice spoke. "All right, wha t do you want?"
"I want to see Laine Tennison."
"Rather late for that, isn't it? If she knows yo u and wishes to see you, come around tomorrow."
Laine's voice interrupted. "It is al l right, Rupert. I want to see him."
Mike Shevlin lifted the latch of the gate an d came into the back yard. The light in the kitche n had been blown out, and the rear of the house was dark.
He stood uncertainly inside the gate. "Al l right," the man's voice said, "if Mis s Tennison wishes to see you." There was a pause.
"I am Dr. Clagg."
Shevlin turned his head, listening for any soun d of a possible ambush. "Related to Clag g Merriam?" he asked.
"A distant cousin."
"Ah?"
"Will you come into the house?"
Mike hesitated, then followed them into th e house. They went through the dark kitchen and along a lighted hall into a comfortable living