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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other Tales"


"I've had enough of it," he said, "and I'm givin' ye now--this
night--yer last chance. Quit this hotel and that woman, and go
back to Gilead and marry Polly. Don't do it and I'll kill ye, ez
sure ez you sit there gapin' in that chair. If I can't get ye to
fight me like a man,--and I'll spit in yer face or put some insult
onto you afore that woman, afore everybody, ez would make a bigger
skunk nor you turn,--I'll hunt ye down and kill ye in your tracks."
There was a querulous murmur of interruption in Lacy's voice, but
whether of defiance or appeal I could not distinguish. Captain
Jim's voice again rose, dogged and distinct.
"Ef YOU kill me it's all the same, and I don't say that I won't
thank ye. This yer world is too crowded for yer and me, Lacy
Bassett. I've believed in ye, trusted in ye, lied for ye, and
fought for ye. From the time I took ye up--a feller-passenger to
'Fresco--believin' there wor the makin's of a man in ye, to now,
you fooled me,--fooled me afore the Eureka boys; fooled me afore
Gilead; fooled me afore HER; fooled me afore God! It's got to end
here. Ye've got to take the curse of that foolishness off o' me!
You've got to do one single thing that's like the man I took ye
for, or you've got to die. Times waz when I'd have wished it for
your account--that's gone, Lacy Bassett! You've got to do it for
ME. You've got to do it so I don't see 'd--d fool' writ in the
eyes of every man ez looks at me.


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