A pair to draw to, Dale Findlay and that man. What sort of an evil scheme might hatch under their joint brooding no man could tell, but it would be a heavy bill for somebody, as Dan had said. The harried, gaunt-growing face of Hal Nearing presented itself with the thought. Barrett began to feel a great pity for the man, a great desire to take hold of the tangle of his life with him and help clear away the encumbering wreckage.
Back to the hotel, to find Dan and Cattle Kate still in their close conference across the showcase glass. Barrett sat on the steps, the light from the door dimly on the heap of saddles close at hand, to wait for his friend to conclude this pleasant interlude in his too barren life.
As always, the question of what next in the affairs of the Diamond Tail presented itself to Barrett. Plainly, things could not be allowed to run on as they were going, Nearing seeking in his insane way to end by violence the evil charm of this secret in his life which no man could share; Findlay elusive as the wind before him, hedged about by guards at every turn, Even tonight the hound-faced man and his partner were in Bonita, dancing with the poor scarecrow drabs in the dive up the road.
Barrett chafed under the inactivity of a single hour. Nearing had refused his offer of co-operation, fearful of discovery; in the desperation of his fear he had drawn his weapon to slay him in his own dooryard. What next? Where to take hold of this repellent tangle of Nearing's life without bringing down the disgrace
