"There were men coming and going all day. Uncle Roger never appeared at
meals. He didn't eat, Diane said. George tramped up and down, smoking,
biting his nails, listening for these messengers. When they'd leave he'd
go in for another drink. We heard him roar some one had been shot and we
feared it might be Steele."
"No," I replied, steadily.
"Did Steele shoot anybody?"
"No. A rustler named March tried to draw on Steele, and someone in the
crowd killed March."
"Someone? Russ, was it you?"
"It sure wasn't. I didn't happen to be there."
"Ah! Then Steele has other men like you around him. I might have guessed
that."
"Sally, Steele makes men his friends. It's because he's on the side of
justice."
"Diane will be glad to hear that. She doesn't think only of Steele's
life. I believe she has a secret pride in his work. And I've an idea
what she fears most is some kind of a clash between Steele and her
father."
"I shouldn't wonder. Sally, what does Diane know about her father?"
"Oh, she's in the dark. She got hold of papers that made her ask him
questions. And his answers made her suspicious. She realizes he's not
what he has pretended to be all these years.
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