At that instant he was hideous.
"Crazy, am I?" he yelled. "Mebbe not d--n crazy! I kin tell you're gone on
Lucy Bostil! I seen you with her out there in the rocks the mornin' of the
race. I seen what you did to her. An' I'm a-goin' to tell it! . . . An' I'm
a-goin' to ketch Lucy Bostil an' strip her naked, an' when I git through with
her I'll tie her on a hoss an' fire the grass! By Gawd! I am!" Livid and wild,
he breathed hard as he got up, facing Slone malignantly.
"Crazy or not, here goes!" muttered Slone, grimly; and, leaping up, with one
blow he knocked Creech half out of the door, and then kicked him the rest of
the way. "Go on and have a fit!" cried Slone. "I'm liable to kill you if you
don't have one!"
Creech got up and ran down the path, turning twice on the way. Then he
disappeared among the trees.
Slone sat down. "Lost my temper again!" he said. "This has been a day. Guess
I'd better cool off right now an' stay here. . . . That poor devil! Maybe he's
not so crazy. But he's wilder than an Indian.
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