"Something strange if not wrong. No man in this community is beyond us, Russ, or above suspicion. You've a great opportunity. I needn't say use your eyes and ears as never before."
"I hope Sampson turns out to be on the square," I replied. "He might be a lax mayor, too good-natured to uphold law in a wild country. And his Southern pride would fire at interference. I don't like him, but for his daughter's sake I hope we're wrong."
Steele's eyes, deep and gleaming in the moonlight, searched my face.
"Son, sure you're not in love with her—you'll not fall in love with her?"
"No. I am positive. Why?"
"Because in either case I'd likely have need of a new man in your place," he said.
"Steele, you know something about Sampson—something more!" I exclaimed swiftly.
"No more than you. When I meet him face to face I may know more. Russ, when a fellow has been years at this game he has a sixth sense. Mine seldom fails me. I never yet faced the criminal who didn't somehow betray fear—not so much fear of me, but fear of himself—his life, his deeds. That's conscience, or if not, just realization of fate."
Had that been the thing I imagined I had seen in Sampson's face?
"I'm sorry Diane Sampson came out here," I said impulsively.