"What did he say?" Sam seemed an emotionless little robot as his thick lenses caught the light from a lamp.
"He's going to be at the council meeting tomorrow night."
"I don't think so," Sam said.
"Why not? It's best to have him dealing with the council."
"He has to go. It's been decided."
"Why? Is he so fierce? Mr. Madrid took his gun."
"Mr. Jay wasn't impressed," Sam said. "He said Vickers has hired himself a he-coon." Sam sat down beside the brandy bottle and poured himself a stiff drink.
"Sam," Persia said, "I wish I owned this town as everyone thinks I do. I'd cash in and get out. Ben Vickers would pay a pretty price for it."
"Get out anyhow, Persia."
"No!" she said emphatically. "Not till I can take a lot of money with me."