Deveny toyed with a glass as he gazed out of the window. There was a cold, sullen gleam in his eyes when he finally looked at Laskar.
“You said Harlan told you he was coming here as soon as Morgan cashed in. According to that, Morgan must have been hit bad.”
“The Chief said he bored him plenty. An’ me an’ Dolver must have got him some.”
“You didn’t get a chance to search Morgan?”
“No chance—he fit like a hyena; an’ when he got behind that damned rock there was no way of gettin’ at him.”
“Then,” said Deveny, “according to what you say, Harlan will come here as soon as Morgan dies. And when you left there Morgan was in a bad way. Harlan is due most any time, then.”
“That’s the way I figger,” agreed Laskar.
And now Laskar fidgeted. “I aim to be hittin’ the breeze now—before Harlan hits town. This climate is gettin’ unhealthy for me. Harlan give me notice.”
“To leave town?”
It was Deveny who spoke. There was a snarl in his voice; he leaned forward and scowled at Laskar.