Samson Kane was hiding. The night had been peaceful. Even Eldon, Grady, and Ralston heard nothing—saw nothing. Lark awoke with hope that perhaps the outlaw had turned coward—decided it was not worth his time to lay in wait for Slater and revenge. Yet that morning at breakfast, Slater assured everyone that Samson Kane would come—he would not give up. The cowboys were to stay near the house, and the children were to stay inside unless a trip to the outhouse was necessary. Even then, one of the men had to go with them. Lark and Katherine were not to venture out without Slater, Tom, or one of the cowboys to escort them either. “Samson Kane ain’t too good with a pistol or a rifle,” Slater explained. “If he’s at a distance, he most likely won’t get a good shot off. His weapon of choice is a knife.” “That’s what Daddy told me,” Johnny said, nodding as he finished his eggs. A cold shiver of fear traveled up Lark’s spine, for she’d remembered Johnny’s description from the day before—that Samson Kane gutted his victims.
