Under the palm of his right hand lay his automatic.
Then Quade spoke.

There must have been more in his face than was spoken in his words, for Culver Rann took the cigar from between his lips, and a light that was deadly serious slowly filled his eyes.
"Rann, we'll talk business!" Quade's voice was harsh, deep, and quivering.
"I want this woman.

I may be a fool, but I'm going to have her.

I might get her alone, but we've always done things together--an' so I made you that proposition.

It ain't a hard job.