"What in hell do you mean to do, then?"
Roberts told him, in part. The deputy shook his head vehemently.
"Can't be done. First place, you can't get Wadley to do it. He won't lift a hand to stop this hangin'. Second place, he couldn't stop it if he wanted to. Folks in Tascosa ain't a bit gun-shy, an' right now they've got their necks bowed. An' this Dinsmore gang—they'll eat you alive if you get in their way."
"Mebbeso. You can't always be sure. I've got one card up my sleeve I haven't mentioned to you."
"If you want my opinion—"
The Ranger cut him off short. "I don't, Snark. Not right now. I'm too busy to listen to it. I want to know just one thing of you. Will you have the horses right where I want 'em when I want 'em?"
"You're the doc," acknowledged the deputy grudgingly. "They'll be there, but just the same I think it's a fool play. You can't get away with it."
Jack asked a question. "Where am I most likely to find Wadley?"
"At McGuffey's store. It's a block this-a-way and a block that-a-way." He indicated directions with his hand.
Wadley was not among those who sat on the porch of the general store known as McGuffey's Emporium. He had just gone to his sister's house to meet his daughter Ramona, of whose arrival he had received notice by a boy. Roberts followed him.