"Sam, I want to know."
"They're going to put him in the hospital."
"I won't have that!" Persia sat up straight. "I ... I'll see Mr. Jay first thing in the morning!"
Sam sipped his drink. "Persia, I never wanted to marry, but now—"
"Sam, please!" She spoke harshly, sharply. Then she smiled and said softly, "Please."
Sam sighed, drained his glass, and looked speculatively at the bottle. "Forget about seeing Mr. Jay in the morning. It will happen tonight. It's probably happening right now."
Persia found herself on her feet, hurrying to the door. There she stopped, frowning thoughtfully.
"There's nothing anybody can do," Sam said from the parlor.
Then she went back to the sofa and sat down. Sam spoke tonelessly.
"Madrid took his gun; now some money fighter is going to put him in the hospital. It will be a joke around town, Mr. Jay said, all that happening to the big troublebuster the first night he gets in town. It won't be too bad, I guess, Persia. Maybe it's all over by now. Put it out of your mind."