Confused, weary, utterly at a loss to finally decide, he drew out Jessie’s letter again. He read it. And like a cloud his confusion dispersed and his mind became clear. His hatred of James was thrust once more into the background. Jessie’s salvation depended on Vada’s going. Vada must go.
He sighed as he rose from his chair and blew out the lamp.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” he murmured, passing into the bedroom. “Maybe. Well, I guess God’ll have to judge me, and––He knows.”
CHAPTER XVIII
ON THE ROAD
Wild Bill had many things to think of on his way back to Suffering Creek. He was a tremendously alert-minded man at all times, so alert-minded that at no time was he given to vain imaginings, and to be alone for long together chafed and irritated him to a degree. His life was something more than practicality; it was vigor in an extreme sense. He must be doing; he must be going ahead. And it mattered very little to him whether he was using vigor of mind or body. Just now he was using the former to a purpose. Possibilities and scheming flashed through his head in such swift succession as to be enough to dazzle a man of lesser mental caliber.
The expressed object of his visit to Spawn City was only one of several purposes he had in hand. And though he turned up at the principal hotel at the psychological moment when he could drop into the big game of poker he had promised himself, and though at that game he helped himself, with all the calm amiability in the world, to several thousand dollars of the “rich guys’” money, the rest of his visit to the silver city was spent in moving about amongst the lower haunts where congregated the human jackals which hunt on the outskirts of such places.
And in these places he met many friends and acquaintances with whom he fraternized for the time being. And his sojourn cost him a good many dollars, dollars which he shed unstintingly, even without counting. Nor was he the man to part with his money in this casual manner without obtaining adequate return, and yet all he had to show as a result of his expedition was a word of information here and there, a suggestion or two which would scarcely have revealed to the outsider the interest which they held for him. Yet he seemed satisfied. He seemed very well satisfied indeed, and his reckless spirit warmed as he progressed in his peregrinations.