And young Lane, who had gained the appellation of ‘Long’ Lane, told Spike Cahill confidentially that he and his father had fixed a trap-gun inside the stable door, which would blow hell out of anybody who opened it at night. He told this to Spike, just as though Spike had had nothing to do with the raid.
‘I dunno if he was tryin’ to be funny, or if he thought we didn’t do it,’ Spike told Peter Morgan, who exploded with wrath.
Morgan was a big man, his black hair slightly grizzled, piercing black eyes, like onyx beads, beneath heavy brows. His mouth was wide and thin-lipped; ready to laugh at anybody, except himself. Morgan was known as a hard man to deal with, but his word was as good as his bond.
The 6X6 was the biggest outfit in the country, and besides that Morgan owned the Oasis saloon and gambling house in Mesa City, which paid him a fine revenue. Morgan had little to do with the management of the Oasis, which was handled by Jack Fairweather.
A mining boom north of Mesa City had been responsible for the growth of the place, but the mines had been nearly worked out at this time. Cañonville was the county seat, a town nearly the same size as Mesa City.
The 6X6 ranch was located about three miles northeast of Mesa City, on Antelope Creek. Northwest of town, some two miles away, was the Flying M outfit, owned by Dave Morgan, a cousin of Peter Morgan. Dave had tried to be as big a man in the community as Peter, but too much indulgence in the flowing bowl and at the green-covered table had left him a sour-faced cattleman, fighting to keep ahead of a mortgage.
They had little in common, these two Morgans. Peter rather frowned upon Dave’s failures, and Dave sneered at Peter’s successes; although they were always friendly enough, if only in a cold way.
Dave was younger than Peter, who was past fifty, and they were not alike in any way, except coloring. Dave was slender, nervous, quick to take offense. He hired three cowboys—Ed Jones, Cal Dickenson, and ‘Red’ Eller.
Peter Morgan’s outfit consisted of Dell Bowen, foreman, Bert Roddy, Spike Cahill, Ben Leach, and Napoleon Bonaparte Briggs. And they were a hardbitted crew, even to Napoleon Bonaparte Briggs, who was so bow-legged he couldn’t sit in an armchair.
Napoleon defended his position as ranch cook by saying: