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Page 405

| "Oh well," he whispered to himself. "Anyhow, the drongo didn't even tell me his name." |

| The stranger wheeled the man in the wheelchair out of the pub, took him to a horse and buggy, and lifted the wheelchair into it, placing it where normally there would be a seat for the driver. Locking the wheelchair in place and handing the reins to the crippled man, the stranger stepped back from the buggy, resting his hands on his holstered revolvers. |

| "Now I have absolute proof that Bianca bore a child," the crippled man said, in his sunken eyes a strange sort of light. "That's all I need to know to make my next move." |

| "Are you sure you want to follow Crispin to Ashton York's sheep station alone?" the stranger asked, concern showing in his eyes. "What if he doesn't leave tonight? He's so drunk he may not even be able to get into the saddle." |

| "He'll go tonight," the crippled man growled. "He checked out of the hotel this afternoon." |

| "I want to at least follow close behind you in case you need me," the stranger said. "You've never traveled that far alone since your accident." |

| "It's about time then, don't you think?" the crippled man snarled. "Now that I know that I've got a grandson I sure as hell don't plan to spend the rest of my life in bed thinkin' about the days when I wasn't a cripple." |

| "You ought to kill the son of a bitch that's responsible for your condition," the stranger said, his eyes narrowing. |

| "I'm not out for vengeance," the crippled man said. "I'm just looking for something to put mean- |

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