The afternoon sun
made queer shadows of them and their mounts. Billy Dime rode bent
forward. His face was white and beaded with sweat. Overland, on Long's
pony, was supported by Miguel and Brand Williams. Pars Long had
disappeared in the shadows of the range.
Billy Dime's eyes grew strangely bright. He laughed, gazing at the
foreman's back. "The whole damn fuss was wrong, _wrong_, I tell you! We
had no _business_ shootin' up that town."
"But it was considerable pleasure," said Bud Light. "You're off your
bean, Billy. I guess you forget what they did to Collie."
Billy Dime leered. The fever from his wound was working through his
blood. "Don't pertend to me, Bud Light, that you come on this little
pasear on account of _Collie_. It was _her_ eyes that said to go. You
know that. She never said words, but her _eyes_ said to go--and to kill!
Do you get that? That's what a woman can do to a man, without sayin' a
word. And what did Collie ever do for me? Look at that arm. _Look_ at
it! What did Collie ever do for me to get shot up this way?" And Billy
Dime began to weep. "I killed two of 'em--two of 'em. I saw 'em drop. I
was drawin' fine--_fine_, I tell you, and I couldn't miss."
Bud Light rode forward to Williams.
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