"Frank Law had two brothers and a sister, had he not?"
"Yes. One of my uncles was a tough hombre. I'm told he notched his gun pretty well."
"He was about the worst man of his day. He was shot in Dodge City on one of his rampages."
Dave raised shocked and curious eyes. "You think he was crazy?"
"Most of those old-time gunmen would be so considered nowadays. Some unbelievable stories are told about that uncle of yours. The other one disappeared mysteriously."
"I believe so. He just walked away from his wife and family and business one day and was never heard of again."
Ellsworth seemed to consider this admission significant. "Now the sister, your aunt?"
"I think she's somewhere in the East; I never saw her."
"She is; she's an inmate of an institution the name and address of which I have here." Ellsworth thrust his finger into the loose pile of documents before him. Avoiding his caller's eyes he continued: "You can't very well ignore such a family history, Dave. I've never traced it back beyond the last generation, but you probably could if you tried."
In a voice hardly his own, Dave articulated: "God! This is—hideous."