Lang took a half-step toward him, his face reflecting his gathering rage as his slow brain comprehended the fact that this speech was but another way of announcing that he and his men would find no welcome at the Three Bar from that moment on. Harper caught his arm and jerked him back. The albino was an old hand and could rightly read the signs.
"The gentleman was remarking to me," he said to Lang; "not you." He turned to Harris, noting as he did so that every Three Bar man, excepting those asleep, had suddenly evidenced keen interest in what was transpiring there; several carelessly shifted their positions. "There's no law to make you feed any man," he said to Harris. "From now on we'll pay our way—as far as the Three Bar is concerned."
His tones were casual; only his pale eyes, fastened unblinkingly on Harris's face, betrayed his real feeling toward the man who, notwithstanding the roundabout nature of his announcement, had practically ordered him to stay away from the Three Bar for all time.
"But even in the face of that," he resumed, "we'll welcome you any time you happen to ride down our way."
Every man within earshot understood the threat that lay beneath the casual words.
"Then I'll likely drop in some time," Harris said. "If you'll send word where it is. And I'll bring fifty men along."
The albino motioned his men toward their horses and they mounted and rode off down the bottoms. Harris walked back and resumed his seat near the girl, who sat looking at him as if she could not believe what she had just witnessed.
"You see it was just as easy as I'd counted on," he said. "It'll be a considerable saving on food."
"But how did you know?" she asked. "Why is Harper afraid of you?"
"He's not," Harris said. "Not for a single second. But he's an old hand and has left a few places on the jump before he came out here."