But that time had gone forever, both
in intent on Sampson's part and in possibility. Wright, like the great
majority of evil and unrestrained men on the border, had reached a point
where influence was futile. Reason had degenerated. He saw only himself.
"But, George, Diane's the one person on earth who must never know I'm a
rustler, a thief, a red-handed ruler of the worst gang on the border,"
replied Sampson impressively.
George bowed his head at that, as if the significance had just occurred
to him. But he was not long at a loss. "She's going to find it out
sooner or later. I tell you she knows now there's something wrong out
here. She's got eyes. And that meddling cowboy of hers is smarter than
you give him credit for. They're always together. You'll regret the day
Russ ever straddled a horse on this ranch. Mark what I say."
"Diane's changed, I know; but she hasn't any idea yet that her daddy's a
boss rustler. Diane's concerned about what she calls my duty as mayor.
Also I think she's not satisfied with my explanations in regard to
certain property."
Wright halted in his restless walk and leaned against the stone
mantelpiece. He squared himself as if this was his last stand.
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