Lassiter had sent all those last thunderin' shots through his body.

Thet was Lassiter's way.
"An' Lassiter spoke, en' if I ever forgit his words I'll never forgit the sound of his voice.
"'Proselyter, I reckon you'd better call quick on thet God who reveals Hisself to you on earth, because He won't be visitin' the place you're goin' to!" "An' then I seen Dyer look at his big, hangin' hands thet wasn't big enough fer the last work he set them to.

An' he looked up at Lassiter.
An' then he stared horrible at somethin' thet wasn't Lassiter, nor anyone there, nor the room, nor the branches of purple sage peepin' into the winder.

Whatever he seen, it was with the look of a man who discovers somethin' too late.

Thet's a terrible look!...