Finally I heard heavy steps.
Wright came in alone. He was leaden-faced, humiliated. Then something
abject in him gave place to rage. He strode the room; he cursed.
Sampson returned, now appreciably calmer. I could not but decide that he
felt relief at the evident rejection of Wright's proposal. "Don't fume
about it, George," he said. "You see I can't help it. We're pretty wild
out here, but I can't rope my daughter and give her to you as I would an
unruly steer."
"Sampson, I can _make_ her marry me," declared Wright thickly.
"How?"
"You know the hold I got on you--the deal that made you boss of this
rustler gang?"
"It isn't likely I'd forget," replied Sampson grimly.
"I can go to Diane--tell her that--make her believe I'd tell it
broadcast, tell this Ranger Steele, unless she'd marry me!" Wright spoke
breathlessly, with haggard face and shadowed eyes. He had no shame. He
was simply in the grip of passion. Sampson gazed with dark, controlled
fury at his relative. In that look I saw a strong, unscrupulous man
fallen into evil ways, but still a man. It betrayed Wright to be the
wild and passionate weakling.
I seemed to see also how, during all the years of association, this
strong man had upheld the weak one.
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