When Daisy Ellington heard of the plan she went straight to Yeager.
"What's this I hear about you committing suicide?" she demanded.
"News to me, compadre," smiled the puncher.
"You're not really going down there to shove your head into that den of wolves, are you?" Without waiting for an answer she pushed on to a prediction. "Because if you do, they'll surely snap it off."
"Wish you'd change your brand of prophecy, niña. You see, this is the only head I've got. I'm some partial to it."
"Then you had better keep away from that old Pasquale and Chad Harrison. Don't be foolish, Steve." She caught the lapels of his coat and shook him fondly. "If you don't know when you're well off, your friends do. We're not going to let you go."
"Threewit and Farrar," he reminded her.
"They'll have to take their chance. Besides, Pasquale isn't going to hurt them. There wouldn't be any sense in it. So there's no use us getting panicky."
"I don't reckon I'm exactly panicky, Daisy. But it won't do to forget that Pasquale is one bad hombre. Harrison is another, and he's got it in for the boys. We can't lie down and quit on them, can we? I notice they didn't do that with me."
"What good will it do for you to go and get trapped too? It's different with you. They've got it in for you down there. It's just foolhardiness for you to go back," she told him sharply.