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The Seventh Man by Max Brand, Chapter IV. King Hol

Chapter IV. King Hol

There is a very general and very erroneous impression that alcohol builds the mood of a man; as a matter of fact it merely makes his temper of the moment fast—the man who takes his first drink with a smile ends in uproarious laughter, and he who frowns will often end in fighting. Vic Gregg did not frown as he drank, but the corners of his lips turned up a trifle in a smile of fixed and acid pleasantry and his glance went from face to face in the barroom, steadily, with a trifling pause at each pair of eyes. Beginning with himself, he hated mankind in general; the burn of the cheap whisky within served to set the color of that hatred in a fixed dye. He did not lift his chaser, but his hand closed around it hard. If some one had given him an excuse for a fist-fight or an outburst of cursing it would have washed his mind as clean as a new slate, and five minutes later he might have been with Betty Neal, riotously happy. Instead, everyone overflowed with good nature, gossip, questions about his work, and the danger in him crystallized. He registered cold reasons for his disgust.

Beginning in the first person, he loathed himself as a thick-headed ass for talking to Betty as he had done; as well put a burr under one's saddle and then feel surprise because the horse bucks. He passed on to the others with equal precision. Captain Lorrimer was as dirty as a greaser; and like a greaser, loose-lipped, unshaven. Chick Stewart was a born fool, and a fool by self-culture, as his never changing grin amply proved. Lew Perkins sat in the corner on a shaky old apple barrel and brushed back his long mustaches to spit at the cuspidor—and miss it. If this were Vic Gregg's saloon he would teach the old loafer more accuracy or break his neck. "How are you, Gregg?" murmured some one behind him.

He turned and found Sheriff Pete Glass with his right hand already spread on the bar while he ordered a drink for two. That was one of the sheriff's idiosyncrasies; he never shook hands if he could avoid it, and Gregg hated him senselessly, bitterly, for it. No doubt every one in the room noticed, and they would tell afterwards how the sheriff had avoided shaking hands with Vic Gregg. Cheap play for notoriety, thought Gregg; Glass was pushing the bottle towards him.

"Help yourself," said Gregg. "This is on me, Vic." "I most generally like to buy the first drink." Pete Glass turned his head slowly, for indeed all his motions were leisurely and one could not help wondering at the stories of his exploits, the tales of his hair-trigger alertness. Perhaps these half legendary deeds sent the thrill of uneasiness through Vic Gregg; perhaps it was owing to the singular hazel eyes, with little splotches of red in them; very mild eyes, but one could imagine anything about them. Otherwise there was nothing exceptional in Glass, for he stood well under middle height, a starved figure, with a sinewy crooked neck, as if bent on looking up to taller men. His hair was sandy, his face tawny brown, his shirt a gray blue, and every one knew his dusty roan horse; by nature, by temperament and by personal selection he was suited to blend into a landscape of sage-dotted plains or sand. Tireless as a lobo on the trail, swift as a bobcat in fight, hunted men had been known to ride in and give themselves up when they heard that Pete Glass was after them.

"Anyway you want, partner," he was saying, in his soft, rather husky voice. He poured his drink, barely enough to cover the bottom of his glass, for that was another of Pete's ways; he could never afford to weaken his hand or deaden his eye with alcohol, and even now he stood sideways at the bar, facing Gregg and also facing the others in the room. But the larger man, with sudden scorn for this caution, brimmed his own glass, and poised it swiftly. "Here's how!" and down it went.

Ordinarily red-eye heated his blood and made his brain dizzy, it loosened his tongue and numbed his lips, but today it left him cool, confident, and sharpened his vision until he felt that he could see through the minds of every one in the room. Captain Lorrimer, for instance, was telling a jocular story to Chick Stewart in the hope that Chick would set them up for every one; and old Lew Perkins was waiting for the treat; and perhaps the sheriff was wondering how he could handle Vic in case of need, or how long it would take to run him down. Not long, decided Gregg, breathing hard; no man in the world could put him on the run. Glass was treating in turn, and again the brimming drink went down Vic's throat and left his brain clear, wonderfully clear. He saw through Betty Neal now; she had purposely played off Blondy against him, to make them both jealous.

"Won't you join us, Dad?" the sheriff was saying to Lew Perkins, and Vic Gregg smiled. He understood. The sheriff wanted an excuse to order another round of drinks because he had it in mind to intoxicate Gregg; perhaps Glass had something on him; perhaps the manhunter thought that Vic had had a part in that Wilsonville affair two years back. That was it, and he wanted to make Vic talk when he was drunk.

"Don't mind if I do," Lew said, slapping both hands on the bar as if he owned it; and while he waited for his drink: "What are they going to do with Swain?" The doddering idiot! Swain was the last man Glass had taken, and Lew Perkins should have known that the sheriff never talked about his work; the old ass was in his green age, his second childhood.

"Swain turned state's evidence," said Pete, curtly. "He'll go free, I suppose. Fill up your glass, partner. Can see you're thirsty yet." This was to Gregg, who had purposely poured out a drink of the sheriff's own chosen dimension to see if the latter would notice; this remark fixed his suspicions. It was certain that the manhunter was after him, but again, in scorn, he accepted the challenge and poured a stiff dram.

"That's right," nodded the sheriff. "You got nothing on your shoulders. You can let yourself go, Vic. Sometimes I wish"—he sighed—"I wish I could do the same!" "The sneaky coyote," thought Gregg, "he's lurin' me on!" "Turned state's evidence!" maundered Lew Perkins. "Well, they's a lot of 'em that lose their guts when they're caught. I remember way back in the time when Bannack was runnin' full blast—" Why did not some one shut off the old idiot before he was thoroughly started? He might keep on talking like the clank of a windmill in a steady breeze, endlessly. For Lew was old-seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five—he himself probably did not know just how old—and he had lived through at least two generations of pioneers with a myriad stories about them. He could string out tales of the Long Trail: Abilene, Wichita, Ellsworth, Great Bend, Newton, where eleven men were murdered in one night; he knew the vigilante days in San Francisco, and early times in Alder Gulch.

"Nobody would of thought Plummer was yaller, but he turned out that way," droned on the narrator. "Grit? He had enough to fit out twenty men. When Crawford shot him and busted his right arm, he went right on and learned to shoot with his left and started huntin' Jack again. Packed that lead with him till he died, and then they found Jack's bullet in his wrist, all worked smooth by the play of the bones. Afterwards it turned out that Plummer ran a whole gang; but before we learned that we'd been fools enough to make him sheriff. We got to Plummer right after he'd finished hangin' a man, and took him to his own gallows." "You'd of thought a cool devil like that would of made a good end, but he didn't. He just got down on his knees and cried, and asked God to help him. Then he begged us to give him time to pray, but one of the boys up and told him he could do his prayin' from the cross-beam. And that was Henry Plummer, that killed a hundred men, him an' his gang." "H-m-m," murmured the sheriff, and looked uneasily about. Now that his eyes were turned away, Vic could study him at leisure, and he wondered at the smallness of the man. Suppose one were able to lay hands on him it would be easy to—

"See you later, boys," drawled Glass, and sauntered from the room. Lew Perkins sighed as the most important part of his audience disappeared, but having started talking the impetus carried him along, he held Vic Gregg with his hazy eyes.

"But they didn't all finish like Plummer, not all the bad ones. No sirree! There was Boone Helm." "I've heard about him," growled Vic, but the old man had fixed his glance and his reminiscent smile upon the past and his voice was soft with distance when he spoke again. "Helm was a sure enough bad one, son. They don't grow like him no more. Wild Bill was a baby compared with Helm, and Slade wasn't no man at all, even leavin' in the lies they tell about him. Why, son, Helm was just a lobo, in the skin of a man—" "Like Barry?" put in Lorrimer, drifting closer down the bar.

"Who's he?" "Ain't you heard of Whistlin' Dan? The one that killed Jim Silent and busted up his gang. Why, they say he's got a wolf that he can talk to like it was a man." Old Lew chuckled.

"They say a lot of things," he nodded, "but I'll tell a man that a wolf is a wolf and they ain't nothin' that can tame 'em. Don't you let 'em feed you up on lies like that, Lorrimer. But Helm was sure bad. He killed for the sake of killin', but he died game. When the boys run him down he swore on the bible that he's never killed a man, and they made him swear it over again just to watch his nerve; but he never batted an eye." The picture of that wild time grew up for Vic Gregg, and the thought of free men who laughed at the law, strong men, fierce men. What would one of these have done if the girl he intended to marry had treated him like a foil?

"Then they got him ready for the rope," went on Lew Perkins. "'I've seen a tolerable lot of death,' says Helm. 'I ain't afraid of it.'" "There was about six thousand folks had come in to see the end of Boone Helm. Somebody asked him if he wanted anything.

"'Whisky,' says Boone. And he got it.

"Then he shook his hand and held it up. He had a sore finger and it bothered him a lot more than the thought of hangin'. "'You gents get through with this or else tie up my finger,' he kept sayin'." "Helm wasn't the whole show. There was some others bein' hung that day and when one of them dropped off his box, Boone says: 'There's one gone to hell.' Pretty soon another went, and hung there wiggling, and six times he went through all the motions of pullin' his six-shooter and firin' it. I counted. 'Kick away, old fellow,' says Boone Helm, 'I'll be with you soon.' Then it came his turn and he hollered: 'Hurrah for Jeff Davis; let her rip!' That was how Boone Helm—" The rest of the story was blotted from the mind of Vic Gregg by the thud of a heavy heel on the veranda, and then the broad shoulders of Blondy Hansen darkened the doorway, Blondy Hansen dressed for the dance, with the knot of his black silk handkerchief turned to the front and above that the gleam of his celluloid collar. It was dim in the saloon, compared with the brightness of the outdoors, and perhaps Blondy did not see Vic. At any rate he took his place at the other end of the bar. Three pictures tangled in the mind of Gregg like three bodies in a whirlpool—Betty, Blondy, Pete Glass. That strange clearness of perception increased and the whole affair lay plainly before him. Betty had sent Hansen, dressed manifestly for the festival, to gloat over Vic in Lorrimer's place. He was at it already.

"All turned out for the dance, Blondy, eh? Takin' a girl?" "Betty Neal," answered Blondy. "The hell you are!" inquired Lorrimer, mildly astonished. "I thought—why, Vic's back in town, don't you know that?" "He ain't got a mortgage on what she does." Then, guided by the side-glance of Lorrimer, Hansen saw Gregg, and he stiffened. As for Vic, he perceived the last link in his chain of evidence. Hansen was going to a dance, and yet he wore a gun, and there could be only one meaning in that: Betty had sent him down there to wind up the affair.

"Didn't see you, Vic," Blondy was saying, his flushed face seeming doubly red against the paleness of his hair. "Have something?" "I ain't drinkin'," answered Gregg, and slowly, to make sure that no one could miss his meaning, he poured out a glass of liquor, and drank it with his face towards Hansen. When he put his glass down his mind was clearer than ever; and with omniscient precision, with nerveless calm, he knew that he was going to kill Blondy Hansen; knew exactly where the bullet would strike. It was something put behind him; his mind had already seen Hansen fall, and he smiled.

Dead silence had fallen over the room, and in the silence Gregg heard a muffled, ticking sound, the beating of his heart; heard old Lew Perkins as the latter softly, slowly, glided back out of the straight line of danger; heard the quick breathing of Captain Lorrimer who stood pasty pale, gaping behind the bar; heard the gritted teeth of Blondy Hansen, who would not take water.

"Vic," said Blondy, "it looks like you mean trouble. Anyway, you just now done something that needs explaining." He stood straight as a soldier, rigid, but the fingers of his right hand twitched, twitched, twitched; the hand itself stole higher. Very calmly, Vic hunted for his words, found them.

"A cattle rustler is bad," he pronounced, "a hoss thief is worse, but you're the lowest sneak of the lot, Blondy." Again that silence with the pulse in it, and Vic Gregg could feel the chill which numbed every one except himself.

The lower jaw of Captain Lorrimer sagged, and his whisper came out in jerking syllables: "God Almighty!" Then Blondy went for his gun, and Vic waited with his hand on the butt of his own, waited with a perfect, cold foreknowledge, heard Blondy moan as his Colt hung in the holster, saw the flash of the barrel as it whipped out, and then jerked his own weapon and fired from the hip. Blondy staggered but kept himself from falling by gripping the edge of the bar with his left hand; the right, still holding the gun, raised and rubbed across his forehead; he looked like a sleeper awakening.

Not a sound from any one else, while Vic watched the tiny wraith of smoke jerk up from the muzzle of his revolver. Then Blondy's gun flashed down and clanked on the floor. A red spot grew on the breast of Hansen's shirt; now he leaned as if to pick up something, but instead, slid forward on his face. Vic stepped to him and stirred the body with his toe; it wobbled, limp.


Chapter IV. King Hol Глава IV. Король Хол

There is a very general and very erroneous impression that alcohol builds the mood of a man; as a matter of fact it merely makes his temper of the moment fast—the man who takes his first drink with a smile ends in uproarious laughter, and he who frowns will often end in fighting. Il existe une impression très générale et très erronée selon laquelle l'alcool améliore l'humeur d'un homme ; en fait, il ne fait qu'accélérer son humeur du moment - l'homme qui prend son premier verre avec un sourire finit par rire aux éclats, et celui qui fronce les sourcils finira souvent par se battre. Vic Gregg did not frown as he drank, but the corners of his lips turned up a trifle in a smile of fixed and acid pleasantry and his glance went from face to face in the barroom, steadily, with a trifling pause at each pair of eyes. Vic Gregg ne fronçait pas les sourcils en buvant, mais les commissures de ses lèvres se retroussaient légèrement en un sourire d'amabilité fixe et acide, et son regard allait d'un visage à l'autre dans la salle de bar, régulièrement, avec une petite pause à chaque paire d'yeux. Beginning with himself, he hated mankind in general; the burn of the cheap whisky within served to set the color of that hatred in a fixed dye. En commençant par lui-même, il haïssait l'humanité en général ; la combustion du whisky bon marché à l'intérieur servait à fixer la couleur de cette haine. He did not lift his chaser, but his hand closed around it hard. Il n'a pas levé son chaser, mais sa main s'est refermée sur lui. If some one had given him an excuse for a fist-fight or an outburst of cursing it would have washed his mind as clean as a new slate, and five minutes later he might have been with Betty Neal, riotously happy. Si quelqu'un lui avait donné une excuse pour une bagarre ou une explosion d'injures, cela aurait lavé son esprit comme une ardoise neuve, et cinq minutes plus tard, il aurait pu être avec Betty Neal, follement heureux. Instead, everyone overflowed with good nature, gossip, questions about his work, and the danger in him crystallized. Au contraire, tout le monde déborde de bonne humeur, de commérages, de questions sur son travail, et le danger en lui se cristallise. He registered cold reasons for his disgust. Il a enregistré les raisons froides de son dégoût.

Beginning in the first person, he loathed himself as a thick-headed ass for talking to Betty as he had done; as well put a burr under one's saddle and then feel surprise because the horse bucks. Commençant à la première personne, il s'est détesté en tant qu'abruti pour avoir parlé à Betty comme il l'avait fait ; c'est comme si l'on mettait une bavure sous la selle et que l'on s'étonnait ensuite que le cheval s'ébroue. He passed on to the others with equal precision. Il a transmis aux autres avec la même précision. Captain Lorrimer was as dirty as a greaser; and like a greaser, loose-lipped, unshaven. Le Capitaine Lorrimer était aussi sale qu'un graisseur, et comme un graisseur, il avait les lèvres lâches et n'était pas rasé. Chick Stewart was a born fool, and a fool by self-culture, as his never changing grin amply proved. Chick Stewart était un imbécile né, et un imbécile par culture personnelle, comme le prouvait amplement son sourire inaltérable. Lew Perkins sat in the corner on a shaky old apple barrel and brushed back his long mustaches to spit at the cuspidor—and miss it. Lew Perkins s'est assis dans le coin sur un vieux tonneau de pommes branlant et a brossé ses longues moustaches pour cracher sur le cuspidor - et le manquer. If this were Vic Gregg's saloon he would teach the old loafer more accuracy or break his neck. S'il s'agissait du saloon de Vic Gregg, il apprendrait au vieux flâneur à être plus précis ou lui briserait la nuque. "How are you, Gregg?" murmured some one behind him.

He turned and found Sheriff Pete Glass with his right hand already spread on the bar while he ordered a drink for two. Il se retourna et trouva le shérif Pete Glass, la main droite déjà posée sur le bar tandis qu'il commandait un verre pour deux. That was one of the sheriff's idiosyncrasies; he never shook hands if he could avoid it, and Gregg hated him senselessly, bitterly, for it. C'était l'une des particularités du shérif ; il ne serrait jamais la main s'il pouvait l'éviter, et Gregg le haïssait de façon insensée, amère, pour cela. No doubt every one in the room noticed, and they would tell afterwards how the sheriff had avoided shaking hands with Vic Gregg. Il ne fait aucun doute que toutes les personnes présentes dans la salle l'ont remarqué et qu'elles raconteront plus tard comment le shérif a évité de serrer la main de Vic Gregg. Cheap play for notoriety, thought Gregg; Glass was pushing the bottle towards him. Un coup bas pour la notoriété, pensa Gregg ; Glass poussait la bouteille vers lui.

"Help yourself," said Gregg. "This is on me, Vic." "I most generally like to buy the first drink." "J'aime le plus souvent payer le premier verre". Pete Glass turned his head slowly, for indeed all his motions were leisurely and one could not help wondering at the stories of his exploits, the tales of his hair-trigger alertness. Pete Glass tourna lentement la tête, car en effet tous ses mouvements étaient calmes et l'on ne pouvait s'empêcher de s'étonner des récits de ses exploits, des récits de sa vigilance à toute épreuve. Perhaps these half legendary deeds sent the thrill of uneasiness through Vic Gregg; perhaps it was owing to the singular hazel eyes, with little splotches of red in them; very mild eyes, but one could imagine anything about them. Peut-être ces actes à moitié légendaires ont-ils fait passer un frisson de malaise à Vic Gregg ; peut-être était-ce dû aux singuliers yeux noisette, avec de petites taches de rouge ; des yeux très doux, mais on pouvait imaginer n'importe quoi à leur sujet. Otherwise there was nothing exceptional in Glass, for he stood well under middle height, a starved figure, with a sinewy crooked neck, as if bent on looking up to taller men. Pour le reste, Glass n'avait rien d'exceptionnel, car il mesurait bien moins que la taille moyenne, une silhouette famélique, avec un cou sinueux et crochu, comme s'il voulait regarder vers les hommes plus grands. His hair was sandy, his face tawny brown, his shirt a gray blue, and every one knew his dusty roan horse; by nature, by temperament and by personal selection he was suited to blend into a landscape of sage-dotted plains or sand. Ses cheveux étaient sablonneux, son visage d'un brun fauve, sa chemise d'un bleu gris, et tout le monde connaissait son cheval rouan poussiéreux ; par nature, par tempérament et par choix personnel, il était fait pour se fondre dans un paysage de plaines parsemées de sauge ou de sable. Tireless as a lobo on the trail, swift as a bobcat in fight, hunted men had been known to ride in and give themselves up when they heard that Pete Glass was after them. Infatigable comme un lobo sur la piste, rapide comme un lynx au combat, les hommes chassés étaient connus pour se rendre à cheval lorsqu'ils apprenaient que Pete Glass était à leurs trousses.

"Anyway you want, partner," he was saying, in his soft, rather husky voice. "Comme tu veux, partenaire", disait-il de sa voix douce et plutôt rauque. He poured his drink, barely enough to cover the bottom of his glass, for that was another of Pete's ways; he could never afford to weaken his hand or deaden his eye with alcohol, and even now he stood sideways at the bar, facing Gregg and also facing the others in the room. Il se versa sa boisson, à peine assez pour couvrir le fond de son verre, car c'était une autre façon de faire de Pete ; il ne pouvait jamais se permettre d'affaiblir sa main ou d'éteindre son œil avec de l'alcool, et même maintenant, il se tenait de côté au bar, face à Gregg et aussi face aux autres personnes présentes dans la pièce. But the larger man, with sudden scorn for this caution, brimmed his own glass, and poised it swiftly. Mais le plus grand des hommes, avec un mépris soudain pour cette prudence, a rempli son propre verre et l'a empoissonné rapidement. "Here's how!" and down it went.

Ordinarily red-eye heated his blood and made his brain dizzy, it loosened his tongue and numbed his lips, but today it left him cool, confident, and sharpened his vision until he felt that he could see through the minds of every one in the room. D'ordinaire, les yeux rouges lui réchauffent le sang et lui donnent des vertiges, ils lui délient la langue et lui engourdissent les lèvres, mais aujourd'hui, ils le laissent froid, confiant, et aiguisent sa vision jusqu'à ce qu'il ait l'impression de pouvoir voir à travers l'esprit de tous ceux qui se trouvent dans la pièce. Captain Lorrimer, for instance, was telling a jocular story to Chick Stewart in the hope that Chick would set them up for every one; and old Lew Perkins was waiting for the treat; and perhaps the sheriff was wondering how he could handle Vic in case of need, or how long it would take to run him down. Le capitaine Lorrimer, par exemple, racontait une histoire plaisante à Chick Stewart dans l'espoir que ce dernier les mette en scène pour tout le monde ; le vieux Lew Perkins attendait la récompense ; et peut-être le shérif se demandait-il comment il pourrait manipuler Vic en cas de besoin, ou combien de temps il lui faudrait pour l'écraser. Not long, decided Gregg, breathing hard; no man in the world could put him on the run. Pas longtemps, décida Gregg, la respiration difficile ; aucun homme au monde ne pourrait le mettre en fuite. Glass was treating in turn, and again the brimming drink went down Vic's throat and left his brain clear, wonderfully clear. Le verre est traité à son tour, et à nouveau la boisson débordante descend dans la gorge de Vic et laisse son cerveau clair, merveilleusement clair. He saw through Betty Neal now; she had purposely played off Blondy against him, to make them both jealous. Il a vu clair dans le jeu de Betty Neal : elle a délibérément monté Blondy contre lui, pour les rendre jaloux tous les deux.

"Won't you join us, Dad?" the sheriff was saying to Lew Perkins, and Vic Gregg smiled. He understood. The sheriff wanted an excuse to order another round of drinks because he had it in mind to intoxicate Gregg; perhaps Glass had something on him; perhaps the manhunter thought that Vic had had a part in that Wilsonville affair two years back. Le shérif voulait une excuse pour commander une autre tournée de boissons, car il avait l'intention d'intoxiquer Gregg ; peut-être que Glass avait quelque chose sur lui ; peut-être que le chasseur d'hommes pensait que Vic avait joué un rôle dans l'affaire de Wilsonville, il y a deux ans. That was it, and he wanted to make Vic talk when he was drunk.

"Don't mind if I do," Lew said, slapping both hands on the bar as if he owned it; and while he waited for his drink: "What are they going to do with Swain?" "Ne vous inquiétez pas si je le fais", dit Lew, tapant des deux mains sur le bar comme s'il lui appartenait ; et pendant qu'il attendait son verre, il demanda : "Qu'est-ce qu'ils vont faire de Swain ? "Qu'est-ce qu'ils vont faire de Swain ?" The doddering idiot! Swain was the last man Glass had taken, and Lew Perkins should have known that the sheriff never talked about his work; the old ass was in his green age, his second childhood. Swain était le dernier homme que Glass avait pris, et Lew Perkins aurait dû savoir que le shérif ne parlait jamais de son travail.

"Swain turned state's evidence," said Pete, curtly. "Swain a transformé le témoignage de l'État", a déclaré Pete, sèchement. "He'll go free, I suppose. Fill up your glass, partner. Can see you're thirsty yet." This was to Gregg, who had purposely poured out a drink of the sheriff's own chosen dimension to see if the latter would notice; this remark fixed his suspicions. Gregg, qui avait fait exprès de verser un verre de la dimension choisie par le shérif pour voir si ce dernier s'en apercevrait, s'en aperçut ; cette remarque confirma ses soupçons. It was certain that the manhunter was after him, but again, in scorn, he accepted the challenge and poured a stiff dram. Il était certain que le chasseur d'hommes était à ses trousses, mais une fois de plus, avec mépris, il releva le défi et se servit un verre d'alcool bien sec.

"That's right," nodded the sheriff. "You got nothing on your shoulders. You can let yourself go, Vic. Tu peux te laisser aller, Vic. Sometimes I wish"—he sighed—"I wish I could do the same!" Parfois, j'aimerais - il a soupiré - j'aimerais pouvoir faire la même chose ! "The sneaky coyote," thought Gregg, "he's lurin' me on!" "Le coyote sournois, pensa Gregg, me guette ! "Turned state's evidence!" "Les preuves de l'État ont été retournées !" maundered Lew Perkins. a maundered Lew Perkins. "Well, they's a lot of 'em that lose their guts when they're caught. "Il y en a beaucoup qui perdent leurs tripes quand ils sont attrapés. I remember way back in the time when Bannack was runnin' full blast—" Je me souviens de l'époque où Bannack fonctionnait à plein régime..." Why did not some one shut off the old idiot before he was thoroughly started? Pourquoi quelqu'un n'a-t-il pas arrêté ce vieil idiot avant qu'il ne soit complètement lancé ? He might keep on talking like the clank of a windmill in a steady breeze, endlessly. Il pourrait continuer à parler comme le cliquetis d'un moulin à vent dans une brise constante, sans fin. For Lew was old-seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five—he himself probably did not know just how old—and he had lived through at least two generations of pioneers with a myriad stories about them. Car Lew était âgé - soixante-quinze, quatre-vingt, quatre-vingt-cinq ans - il ne savait probablement pas lui-même quel âge il avait - et il avait vécu au moins deux générations de pionniers avec une myriade d'histoires à leur sujet. He could string out tales of the Long Trail: Abilene, Wichita, Ellsworth, Great Bend, Newton, where eleven men were murdered in one night; he knew the vigilante days in San Francisco, and early times in Alder Gulch. Il pouvait raconter des histoires sur la Longue Piste : Abilene, Wichita, Ellsworth, Great Bend, Newton, où onze hommes ont été assassinés en une nuit ; il connaissait l'époque des justiciers à San Francisco et les débuts d'Alder Gulch.

"Nobody would of thought Plummer was yaller, but he turned out that way," droned on the narrator. "Personne n'aurait pensé que Plummer était plus jeune, mais c'est ce qu'il est devenu", poursuit le narrateur. "Grit? He had enough to fit out twenty men. Il avait de quoi équiper vingt hommes. When Crawford shot him and busted his right arm, he went right on and learned to shoot with his left and started huntin' Jack again. Lorsque Crawford lui a tiré dessus et lui a cassé le bras droit, il a continué, a appris à tirer avec le bras gauche et a recommencé à chasser Jack. Packed that lead with him till he died, and then they found Jack's bullet in his wrist, all worked smooth by the play of the bones. Il a gardé ce plomb jusqu'à sa mort, puis on a trouvé la balle de Jack dans son poignet, rendue lisse par le jeu des os. Afterwards it turned out that Plummer ran a whole gang; but before we learned that we'd been fools enough to make him sheriff. Par la suite, il s'est avéré que Plummer dirigeait tout un gang, mais avant de l'apprendre, nous avions été assez fous pour le nommer shérif. We got to Plummer right after he'd finished hangin' a man, and took him to his own gallows." Nous avons trouvé Plummer juste après qu'il ait fini de pendre un homme, et nous l'avons emmené à sa propre potence." "You'd of thought a cool devil like that would of made a good end, but he didn't. "On aurait pu penser qu'un diable aussi cool aurait fait une bonne fin, mais ce n'est pas le cas. He just got down on his knees and cried, and asked God to help him. Then he begged us to give him time to pray, but one of the boys up and told him he could do his prayin' from the cross-beam. Il nous a ensuite suppliés de lui laisser le temps de prier, mais l'un des garçons s'est levé et lui a dit qu'il pouvait faire sa prière depuis la poutre transversale. And that was Henry Plummer, that killed a hundred men, him an' his gang." Et c'est Henry Plummer qui a tué une centaine d'hommes, lui et sa bande." "H-m-m," murmured the sheriff, and looked uneasily about. "H-m-m", murmura le shérif en regardant autour de lui d'un air inquiet. Now that his eyes were turned away, Vic could study him at leisure, and he wondered at the smallness of the man. Maintenant que ses yeux étaient détournés, Vic pouvait l'étudier à loisir, et il s'étonna de la petitesse de l'homme. Suppose one were able to lay hands on him it would be easy to— Si l'on pouvait lui mettre la main dessus, ce serait facile de...

"See you later, boys," drawled Glass, and sauntered from the room. "A plus tard, les gars", dit Glass, avant de quitter la pièce en sautillant. Lew Perkins sighed as the most important part of his audience disappeared, but having started talking the impetus carried him along, he held Vic Gregg with his hazy eyes. Lew Perkins soupire alors que la partie la plus importante de son public disparaît, mais ayant commencé à parler, l'élan l'emporte, il tient Vic Gregg dans ses yeux troubles.

"But they didn't all finish like Plummer, not all the bad ones. "Mais ils n'ont pas tous fini comme Plummer, pas tous les mauvais. No sirree! There was Boone Helm." "I've heard about him," growled Vic, but the old man had fixed his glance and his reminiscent smile upon the past and his voice was soft with distance when he spoke again. "J'ai entendu parler de lui", grogna Vic, mais le vieil homme avait fixé son regard et son sourire nostalgique sur le passé et sa voix était douce et lointaine lorsqu'il reprit la parole. "Helm was a sure enough bad one, son. They don't grow like him no more. Ils ne poussent plus comme lui. Wild Bill was a baby compared with Helm, and Slade wasn't no man at all, even leavin' in the lies they tell about him. Wild Bill était un bébé comparé à Helm, et Slade n'était pas un homme du tout, même en laissant de côté les mensonges qu'ils racontent à son sujet. Why, son, Helm was just a lobo, in the skin of a man—" Mais, fils, Helm n'était qu'un lobo dans la peau d'un homme..." "Like Barry?" put in Lorrimer, drifting closer down the bar. a ajouté Lorrimer, en se rapprochant de la barre.

"Who's he?" "Ain't you heard of Whistlin' Dan? The one that killed Jim Silent and busted up his gang. Why, they say he's got a wolf that he can talk to like it was a man." On dit qu'il a un loup à qui il peut parler comme à un homme." Old Lew chuckled.

"They say a lot of things," he nodded, "but I'll tell a man that a wolf is a wolf and they ain't nothin' that can tame 'em. "Ils disent beaucoup de choses", a-t-il acquiescé, "mais je dirais à un homme qu'un loup est un loup et que rien ne peut l'apprivoiser. Don't you let 'em feed you up on lies like that, Lorrimer. Ne les laissez pas vous nourrir de tels mensonges, Lorrimer. But Helm was sure bad. He killed for the sake of killin', but he died game. Il a tué pour le plaisir de tuer, mais il est mort en jouant. When the boys run him down he swore on the bible that he's never killed a man, and they made him swear it over again just to watch his nerve; but he never batted an eye." Lorsque les garçons l'ont arrêté, il a juré sur la Bible qu'il n'avait jamais tué un homme, et ils l'ont fait jurer à nouveau pour qu'il se tienne à carreau ; mais il n'a jamais sourcillé". The picture of that wild time grew up for Vic Gregg, and the thought of free men who laughed at the law, strong men, fierce men. L'image de cette époque sauvage grandit chez Vic Gregg, et la pensée d'hommes libres qui se moquaient de la loi, d'hommes forts, d'hommes féroces. What would one of these have done if the girl he intended to marry had treated him like a foil? Qu'aurait fait l'un d'entre eux si la jeune fille qu'il voulait épouser l'avait traité comme un faire-valoir ?

"Then they got him ready for the rope," went on Lew Perkins. "'I've seen a tolerable lot of death,' says Helm. "J'ai vu beaucoup de morts", dit Helm. 'I ain't afraid of it.'" "There was about six thousand folks had come in to see the end of Boone Helm. Somebody asked him if he wanted anything.

"'Whisky,' says Boone. And he got it.

"Then he shook his hand and held it up. "Puis il a serré sa main et l'a levée. He had a sore finger and it bothered him a lot more than the thought of hangin'. Il avait mal au doigt et cela le gênait beaucoup plus que l'idée de se pendre. "'You gents get through with this or else tie up my finger,' he kept sayin'." "'Vous en finissez avec ça, messieurs, ou bien vous m'attachez le doigt', répétait-il." "Helm wasn't the whole show. "Helm n'a pas été le seul à faire le spectacle. There was some others bein' hung that day and when one of them dropped off his box, Boone says: 'There's one gone to hell.' D'autres personnes ont été pendues ce jour-là et quand l'une d'entre elles a déposé sa boîte, Boone a dit : "En voilà une qui va en enfer". Pretty soon another went, and hung there wiggling, and six times he went through all the motions of pullin' his six-shooter and firin' it. Bientôt, un autre est parti et est resté accroché en se tortillant, et six fois il a fait tous les mouvements pour tirer avec son six-coups et l'allumer. I counted. 'Kick away, old fellow,' says Boone Helm, 'I'll be with you soon.' Then it came his turn and he hollered: 'Hurrah for Jeff Davis; let her rip!' That was how Boone Helm—" The rest of the story was blotted from the mind of Vic Gregg by the thud of a heavy heel on the veranda, and then the broad shoulders of Blondy Hansen darkened the doorway, Blondy Hansen dressed for the dance, with the knot of his black silk handkerchief turned to the front and above that the gleam of his celluloid collar. Le reste de l'histoire fut effacé de l'esprit de Vic Gregg par le bruit sourd d'un talon lourd sur la véranda, puis les larges épaules de Blondy Hansen assombrirent l'embrasure de la porte, Blondy Hansen habillé pour la danse, avec le nœud de son mouchoir de soie noire tourné vers l'avant et, par-dessus, l'éclat de son col en celluloïd. It was dim in the saloon, compared with the brightness of the outdoors, and perhaps Blondy did not see Vic. Il faisait sombre dans le salon, comparé à la luminosité de l'extérieur, et peut-être que Blondy n'a pas vu Vic. At any rate he took his place at the other end of the bar. Three pictures tangled in the mind of Gregg like three bodies in a whirlpool—Betty, Blondy, Pete Glass. Trois images s'entremêlent dans l'esprit de Gregg comme trois corps dans un tourbillon : Betty, Blondy, Pete Glass. That strange clearness of perception increased and the whole affair lay plainly before him. Cette étrange clarté de perception s'accrut et toute l'affaire lui apparut clairement. Betty had sent Hansen, dressed manifestly for the festival, to gloat over Vic in Lorrimer's place. Betty avait envoyé Hansen, manifestement habillé pour la fête, pour se réjouir de la présence de Vic à la place de Lorrimer. He was at it already.

"All turned out for the dance, Blondy, eh? Takin' a girl?" "Betty Neal," answered Blondy. "The hell you are!" inquired Lorrimer, mildly astonished. "I thought—why, Vic's back in town, don't you know that?" "He ain't got a mortgage on what she does." "Il n'a pas d'hypothèque sur ce qu'elle fait." Then, guided by the side-glance of Lorrimer, Hansen saw Gregg, and he stiffened. Puis, guidé par le regard de Lorrimer, Hansen aperçut Gregg, qui se raidit. As for Vic, he perceived the last link in his chain of evidence. Quant à Vic, il a perçu le dernier maillon de sa chaîne de preuves. Hansen was going to a dance, and yet he wore a gun, and there could be only one meaning in that: Betty had sent him down there to wind up the affair. Hansen se rendait à un bal, et pourtant il portait un pistolet, ce qui ne pouvait avoir qu'une seule signification : Betty l'avait envoyé là-bas pour clore l'affaire.

"Didn't see you, Vic," Blondy was saying, his flushed face seeming doubly red against the paleness of his hair. "Have something?" "I ain't drinkin'," answered Gregg, and slowly, to make sure that no one could miss his meaning, he poured out a glass of liquor, and drank it with his face towards Hansen. "Je ne bois pas", répondit Gregg, et lentement, pour être sûr que personne ne se méprenne, il se versa un verre de liqueur et le but, le visage tourné vers Hansen. When he put his glass down his mind was clearer than ever; and with omniscient precision, with nerveless calm, he knew that he was going to kill Blondy Hansen; knew exactly where the bullet would strike. Lorsqu'il posa son verre, son esprit était plus clair que jamais et, avec une précision omnisciente, avec un calme sans faille, il savait qu'il allait tuer Blondy Hansen, il savait exactement où la balle frapperait. It was something put behind him; his mind had already seen Hansen fall, and he smiled. C'était quelque chose qui était derrière lui ; son esprit avait déjà vu Hansen tomber, et il a souri.

Dead silence had fallen over the room, and in the silence Gregg heard a muffled, ticking sound, the beating of his heart; heard old Lew Perkins as the latter softly, slowly, glided back out of the straight line of danger; heard the quick breathing of Captain Lorrimer who stood pasty pale, gaping behind the bar; heard the gritted teeth of Blondy Hansen, who would not take water. Un silence de mort s'était abattu sur la pièce et, dans ce silence, Gregg entendait un bruit sourd, le tic-tac des battements de son cœur ; il entendait le vieux Lew Perkins qui, doucement, lentement, s'éloignait de la ligne droite du danger ; il entendait la respiration rapide du capitaine Lorrimer qui se tenait, pâle, béant, derrière le bar ; il entendait les dents serrées de Blondy Hansen, qui ne voulait pas prendre d'eau.

"Vic," said Blondy, "it looks like you mean trouble. "Vic, dit Blondy, on dirait que tu veux des ennuis. Anyway, you just now done something that needs explaining." Quoi qu'il en soit, vous venez de faire quelque chose qui mérite d'être expliqué". He stood straight as a soldier, rigid, but the fingers of his right hand twitched, twitched, twitched; the hand itself stole higher. Il se tenait droit comme un soldat, rigide, mais les doigts de sa main droite s'agitaient, s'agitaient, s'agitaient ; la main elle-même volait plus haut. Very calmly, Vic hunted for his words, found them. Très calmement, Vic a cherché ses mots, les a trouvés.

"A cattle rustler is bad," he pronounced, "a hoss thief is worse, but you're the lowest sneak of the lot, Blondy." "Un voleur de bétail, c'est mal, un voleur de chevaux, c'est pire, mais tu es le plus bas des voleurs, Blondy. Again that silence with the pulse in it, and Vic Gregg could feel the chill which numbed every one except himself. De nouveau, ce silence avec le pouls, et Vic Gregg pouvait sentir le froid qui engourdissait tout le monde, sauf lui.

The lower jaw of Captain Lorrimer sagged, and his whisper came out in jerking syllables: "God Almighty!" La mâchoire inférieure du capitaine Lorrimer s'affaissa, et son murmure sortit en syllabes saccadées : "Dieu tout-puissant !" Then Blondy went for his gun, and Vic waited with his hand on the butt of his own, waited with a perfect, cold foreknowledge, heard Blondy moan as his Colt hung in the holster, saw the flash of the barrel as it whipped out, and then jerked his own weapon and fired from the hip. Puis Blondy s'est emparé de son arme, et Vic a attendu, la main sur la crosse de la sienne, avec une parfaite et froide prescience, a entendu Blondy gémir quand son Colt s'est accroché à l'étui, a vu l'éclair du canon quand il a jailli, puis a tiré de la hanche avec son arme. Blondy staggered but kept himself from falling by gripping the edge of the bar with his left hand; the right, still holding the gun, raised and rubbed across his forehead; he looked like a sleeper awakening. Blondy chancelle mais s'empêche de tomber en saisissant le bord du bar de la main gauche ; la droite, qui tient toujours l'arme, se soulève et se frotte le front ; il a l'air d'un dormeur qui s'éveille.

Not a sound from any one else, while Vic watched the tiny wraith of smoke jerk up from the muzzle of his revolver. Personne d'autre n'a émis le moindre son pendant que Vic regardait le petit spectre de fumée s'élever de la bouche de son revolver. Then Blondy's gun flashed down and clanked on the floor. L'arme de Blondy s'abaisse et s'écrase sur le sol. A red spot grew on the breast of Hansen's shirt; now he leaned as if to pick up something, but instead, slid forward on his face. Une tache rouge apparaît sur la poitrine de la chemise de Hansen ; il se penche alors pour ramasser quelque chose, mais au lieu de cela, il glisse en avant sur son visage. Vic stepped to him and stirred the body with his toe; it wobbled, limp. Vic s'est approché de lui et a remué le corps avec son orteil ; il a vacillé, mou.