He snatched up his wide hat.
“Where are you going?” asked Williston, curiously.
“To see Dick Gordon before this day is an hour older. Will you come along?”
“Ye—es,” hesitatingly. “Gordon hasn’t made much success of things so far, has he?”
“Because you—and men like you—are under the thumb of men like Jesse Black,” said Langford, curtly. “Afraid to peach for fear of antagonizing the gang. Afraid to vote against the tools of the cattle thieves for fear of antagonizing the gang. Afraid to call your souls your own for fear of antagonizing the gang. Your ‘on the fence’ policy didn’t work very well this time, did it? You haven’t found your cattle, have you? The angel must have forgotten. Thought you were tainted of Egypt, eh?”
“It is easy for you to talk,” said Williston, simply. “It would be different if your bread and butter and your little girl’s as well depended on a scrawny little bunch like mine.”
“Maybe,” said Langford, shrugging his shoulders. “Doesn’t seem to have exempted you, though, does it? But Black is no respecter of persons, you know. However, the time has come for Dick Gordon to show of what stuff he is made. It was for this that I worked for his election, though I confess I little thought at the time that proofs for him would be furnished from my own herds. Present conditions humiliate me utterly. Am I a weakling that they should exist? Are we all weaklings?”
A faint, appreciative smile passed over Williston’s face. No, Langford did not look a weakling, neither had the professed humiliation lowered his proud head. Here was a man—a godlike type, with his sunny hair and his great strength. This was the man who had thrown not only the whole weight of his personal influence, which was much, but his whole-hearted and aggressive service as well, into the long and bitter campaign for county sovereignty, and had thus turned the scale in favor of the scarcely hoped-for victory over the puppet of the cattle rustlers. Williston knew his great object had been to rid the county of its brigands. True it was that this big, ruddy, self-confident ranchman was no weakling.
Langford strode to the door. Then he turned quickly.
“Look here, Williston, I shall make you angry, I suppose, but it has to go in the cattle country, and you little fellows haven’t shown up very white in these deals; you know that yourself.”