"And if any of them do meet us and start trouble, I'm going for my gun,
that's all. There won't be any talk."
"Good! I'll back you," Sampson replied. "Understand, Russ, I didn't want
you here, but I always had you sized up as a pretty hard nut, a man not
to be trifled with. You've got a bad name. Diane insists the name's not
deserved. She'd trust you with herself under any circumstances. And the
kid, Sally, she'd be fond of you if it wasn't for the drink. Have you
been drunk a good deal? Straight now, between you and me."
"Not once," I replied.
"George's a liar then. He's had it in for you since that day at
Sanderson. Look out you two don't clash. He's got a temper, and when
he's drinking he's a devil. Keep out of his way."
"I've stood a good deal from Wright, and guess I can stand more."
"All right, Russ," he continued, as if relieved. "Chuck the drink and
cards for a while and keep an eye on the girls. When my affairs
straighten out maybe I'll make you a proposition."
Sampson left me material for thought. Perhaps it was not only the
presence of a Ranger in town that gave him concern, nor the wilfulness
of his daughter. There must be internal strife in the rustler gang with
which we had associated him.
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