He found Jane on the veranda, leaning against an arch, looking off across the moonlit valley.
“Huh!” he grunted, sinking down in his chair. “I didn’t expect you to be out here, Jane.”
He hammered the bowl of his pipe against the arm of his chair.
“The meetin’ is over,” he said. “I reckon we’ll wait and let Blaze Nolan make his first move, the boys will watch him. He’ll find that Painted Valley don’t trust him no more than they would a lobo wolf.”
“I wonder if he knows there was a meeting?” she said softly.
“I doubt it.”
A period of silence, while he lighted his pipe. Then, “Dad, did you ever see that girl—that dance-hall girl—the one they called Della?”
“I dunno, Jane. She disappeared ahead of the trial, yuh know.”
“Do you know what she looked like, dad?”
“Kinda Spanish, they said. Tall girl, dark skinned and black hair. What do yuh want to know for?”