The released horse shied again and moved away.

Buster Jack raised himself upon his elbow, pale with rage and alarm.

Wade kicked him, not with any particular violence.
"Get up!" he ordered.
The kick had brought out the rage in Belllounds at the expense of the amaze and alarm.
"Did you kick _me ?_" he shouted.
"Buster, I was only handin' you a bunch of flowers--some columbines, as your taste runs," replied Wade, contemptuously.
"I'll--I'll--" returned Buster Jack, wildly, bursting for expression.
His hand went to his gun.
"Go ahead, Buster.

Throw your gun on me.

That'll save maybe a hell of a lot of talk." It was then Jack Belllounds's face turned livid.