O'Toole grinned.
"Just like that," he said dryly. "And this guy Harror is going to shake our hands and say, 'Glad to see you're with us, boys.'"
Blake was already out of the smoking lounge. He went toward the end of the car with a swift, determined stride. Ferrell and Dauna had been at the window and as he approached the door leading outside, they turned.
"Hold it, Jeff," Ferrell said. "You're going to do something foolish and I won't have it."
"We've already got ourselves into a pretty foolish mess," Blake reminded him almost bitterly. "If I can do any good by trying, I don't want you to interfere. It may be too late."
Dauna barred his way to the door. Her face was drawn and bloodless.
"You're going to face that giant, Harror," she pleaded haltingly. "Jeff, please...?"
He took her hands in his, and smiled down at her.
"Wade wouldn't want you to put on a scene," he said gently. "I'm in this thing up to my neck. Wade's name and my own are both involved."
She hesitated and stepped away from him. Her arms dropped hopelessly.