some things were missing. They weren't, of course. She'd heard Mr. Deacon speak of going to Santa Fe and she made 'em wire here. All she wanted was to get him back. Schwarzstein will give you that contract all right. . . . He had turned to Ambrose. . . . Any kind of contract you want.
Well, unless I'm a dago with three legs somebody's going to pay for this! cried Jack.
Ambrose's mind did not dwell on retribution. Am I free? he inquired.
You bet you're free, the sheriff assured him.
But you'll come back with us, pleaded Ringrose. I've got the contract here ready for you to sign. Name your own terms.
Somebody's got to pay for this, Jack persisted. I think Miss Starling'll have to stand a big suit for damages.
Suppose you let Mr. Deacon tend to his own business, Ringrose snapped testily.
Suppose you take your own advice, Jack retorted.
I'm going back to New York, Ambrose avowed. I won't stay here another hour.
Oh, please, Mr. Deacon . . . the star was speaking at last . . . please come back to us. Please forgive us. I only did it to your good. I am sure what you and me can do together in the pictures.
