The penultimate day of action places the Easterner with his new local braintrust (now including "the Loner," whose allegiances seem to have shifted), juggling telegraphs and ledgers and last-ditch ideas, trying to conjure the basis for the last stand set to occur tomorrow, if at all.
The local business interests that aligned with the Eastern financial interests earlier, when the situation seemed simpler -- K.L. Gates, the Irwin gang, Cohen -- can only watch, anxiously, as their prospective fortunes teeter. Even old man Morgan, who always has the angles in his favor (with an extra angle in reserve), is tense.
The mayor, no longer welcome at the Easterner's conference rooms, simmers his resentment alone (well, maybe with a saloon gal or two).
As the afternoon progresses, calculation turns to cursing. Cursing the missteps and misplaced allegiances. Daming those do-gooders who had inexplicably organized and developed a spine. Cursing the suddenly needed time that can't be had. Cursing the unlikely confluence of circumstances that had turned a sure thing -- a damned profitable one -- into a trainwreck. Cursing, as nightfall approaches, a sense that destiny will be anticlimactic, with the best traveling gunslingers money can buy reduced to packing popguns.
The foreshadowing is nearly one-sided, and nearly complete, but both sides remain nervous. The great fortunes at stake recede from focus as the story line pans, as always, to studies in human character.
Infinonytune: Once Upon A Time In The West, Dire Straits (part 2)