He would have his vengeance.
The scheme took form without conscious effort on his part and
embraced two things--the death of the gambler and a meeting with
McNamara. Of the former, he had no more doubt than that the sun
rising there would sink in the west. So well confirmed was this
belief that the details did not engage his thought; but on the
result of the other encounter he speculated with some interest.
From the first McNamara had been a riddle to him, and mystery
breeds curiosity. His blind, instinctive hatred of the man had
assumed the proportions of a mania; but as to what the outcome
would be when they met face to face, fate alone could tell.
Anyway, McNamara should never have Helen--Roy believed his mission
covered that point as well as her deliverance from the Bronco Kid.
When he had finished--he would pay the price. If he had the luck
to escape, he would go back to his hills and his solitude; if he
did not, his future would be in the hands of his enemies.
He entered the silent streets unobserved, for the mists were heavy
and low. Smoke columns arose vertically in the still air. The rain
had ceased, having beaten down the waves which rumbled against the
beach, filling the streets with their subdued thunder. A ship,
anchored in the offing, had run in from the lee of Sledge Island
with the first lull, while midway to the shore a tender was rising
and falling, its oars flashing like the silvered feelers of a sea
insect crawling upon the surface of the ocean.
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