Lite never indulged in liquid celebrations, and Jean knew it.
Lite reached into his pocket with the hand that was free, and drew forth a telegram envelope.

He released her hand while he drew out the message, but he did not hand it to her immediately.

"I wired Rossman from Los Angeles," he informed her, "and told him what was up, and asked him to put me up to date on that end of the line.

So he did.

I got this back there at that last town." He laid his hand over hers again, and looked down at her sidelong.
"Ever since the trouble," he began abruptly, but still in that quiet, matter-of-fact way, "I've been playing a lone hand and kinda holding back and waiting for something to drop.