_I'm goin' to kill you, Buster Jack!_" "My God!" whispered the other, understanding fully at last.
"Here's where you pay for your dirty work.

The time comes to every man.
You've a choice, not to live--for you'll never get away from Hell-Bent Wade--but to rise above yourself at last." "But what for?
Why do you want to kill me?
I never harmed you." "Columbine is my daughter!" replied the hunter.
"Ah!" breathed Belllounds.
"She loves Wils Moore, who's as white a man as you are black." Across the pallid, convulsed face of Belllounds spread a slow, dull crimson.
"Aha, Buster Jack! I struck home there," flashed Wade, his voice rising.
"That gives your eyes the ugly look....

I hate them lyin', bulgin' eyes of yours.

An' when my time comes to shoot I'm goin' to put them both out." "By Heaven! Wade, you'll have to kill me if you ever expect that club-foot Moore to get Collie!" "He'll get her," replied Wade, triumphantly.

"Collie's with him now.