He had first thought a great deal about Scipio. He felt that the time had come when his fate must be closely inquired into. The blundering efforts of Sunny Oak were so hopelessly inadequate in the care of the children, that only the return of their father could save them from some dire domestic catastrophe. Sunny apparently meant well by them. But Bill hated well-meaning people who disguised their incompetence under the excellence of their intentions. Besides, in this case it was so useless. These two children were a nuisance, he admitted, but they must not be allowed to suffer through Sunny's incompetence. No, their father must be found. Then there was his mare, Gipsy; and when he thought of her he went hot with an alarm which no threat to himself could have inspired. This turn of thought brought James into his focus. That personage was rarely far from it, and he needed very little prompting to bring the outlaw into the full glare of his mental limelight. He hated James. He had seen him rarely, and spoken to him perhaps only a dozen times, when he first appeared on Suffering Creek. But he hated him as though he were his most bitter personal enemy. He had no reason to offer for this hatred, beyond the outlaw's known depredations and the constant threat of his presence in the district. At least no reason he would have admitted publicly. But then Wild Bill was not a man to bother with reasons much at any time. And it was the venomous hatred of the man which now drove him to a decision of the first importance. And such was his satisfaction in the interest of his decision, that, for the time being, at least, poker was robbed of its charm, faro had become a game of no consequence whatever, and gambling generally, with all its subtleties as he understood them, was no longer worth while. He had decided upon a game with a higher stake than any United States currency could afford. It was a game of life and death. James, "Lord" James, as he contemptuously declared, must go. There was no room for him in the same district as Wild Bill of Abilene. It would be useless to seek the method by which this decision was reached. In a man such as Bill the subtleties of his motives were far too involved and deeply hidden. The only possible chance of estimating the truth would be to question his associates as to their opinion. And even then such opinions would be biased by personal understanding of the man, and so would be of but small account.