Max Brand

Way of the Lawless Max Brand

Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his witheredarms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and the aching heart of anartist he said to himself that his life work was a failure. That life work was the youngfellow who swung the sledge at the forge, and truly it was a strange product for thisseventy-year-old veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white. Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that Andrewbecame the life work of Jasper. Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of the mountaindesert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He buried his brother without atear, and then sat down and looked at the slender child who bore his name. Andy was abeautiful boy. He had the black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of theLannings, and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the weaknessof childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His own life was aslittered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with boulders. But the black, brighteyes and the well-made jaw of little Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'mfifty-five. I'm about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out onepiece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature on it!"