"Blandy leans to crooked faro.
I've tried to stop that, anyway. If Steele can, more power to him!"
Sampson turned on his heel then and left me with a queer feeling of
surprise and pity.
He had surprised me before, but he had never roused the least sympathy.
It was probably that Sampson was indeed powerless, no matter what his
position.
I had known men before who had become involved in crime, yet were too
manly to sanction a crookedness they could not help.
Miss Sampson had been standing in her door. I could tell she had heard;
she looked agitated. I knew she had been talking to her father.
"Russ, he hates the Ranger," she said. "That's what I fear. It'll bring
trouble on us. Besides, like everybody here, he's biased. He can't see
anything good in Steele. Yet he says: 'More power to him!' I'm
mystified, and, oh, I'm between two fires!"
* * * * *
Steele's next noteworthy achievement was as new to me as it was strange
to Linrock. I heard a good deal about it from my acquaintances, some
little from Steele, and the concluding incident I saw and heard myself.
Andy Vey was a broken-down rustler whose activity had ceased and who
spent his time hanging on at the places frequented by younger and better
men of his kind.
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