“Mebbe so, but yuh got to set a thief to ketch a thief!” There was a touch of bitterness in Jim’s voice.
It was a long while before he spoke again.
“I’m tellin’ yuh, Jack, there is somethin’ darned funny about how an’ why them gents sent for yuh. They aim to double cross yuh, or somebody else, or mebbe both!” Jim warned.
“Why?” Jack smiled unbelievingly.
“Mebbe they got yuh down here to do somethin’ they’re scared to do,” Jim suggested.
“What?”
“I dunno, but suppose some gents is plumb scared of their partner. Suppose this here Baldy Kane was a member of their gang, an’ they was scared of him. He’s hell on wheels, that bald-headed ol’ jasper. They would figger out you would learn somethin’, then go try for Baldy. He ain’t a gent what would ever give up, so you’d sure cash him, an’ he’d prob’ly cash you. They’d have got rid of him, an’ anythin’ you’d learnt wouldn’t matter, ’cause you’d be dead!”
Later Jim-twin Allen stood there and watched his brother ride away. And the woman watching him saw Jim’s face grow old, become covered with a thousand wrinkles. It was lifeless, nearly, dead like the desert that was his home. The woman turned away, ashamed that she had witnessed the baring of a man’s soul.
Suddenly the outlaw’s face grew young again, and he grinned.
“All right, Jack. Whether yuh like it or not, the Wolf is goin’ to horn in on your play an’ sorta prove to yuh that yuh don’t know nothin’ a-tall!”