But to be massacred in bed, knifed, in the dark, shot in the back, ambushed in any manner--not one of these miserable ends must be the last record of Vaughn Steele.
He promised me in a way that made me wonder if he would ever sleep again or turn his back on anyone--made me wonder too, at the menace in his voice.

Steele seemed likely to be torn two ways, and already there was a hint of future desperation.
It was agreed that I make cautious advances to Hoden and Morton, and when I could satisfy myself of their trustworthiness reveal my identity to them.

Through this I was to cultivate Zimmer, and then other ranchers whom we should decide could be let into the secret.
It was not only imperative that we learn through them clues by which we might eventually fix guilt on the rustler gang, but also just as imperative that we develop a band of deputies to help us when the fight began.
Steele, now that he was back in Linrock, would have the center of the stage, with all eyes upon him.

We agreed, moreover, that the bolder the front now the better the chance of ultimate success.

The more nerve he showed the less danger of being ambushed, the less peril in facing vicious men.
But we needed a jail.