"It's my business. I don't want you to see. You don't want to see,
then you won't know, and you won't need to lie. You said that the man
that killed Clint ought to die. He's going to die, but it's none o' your
business. I want to be alone. In a minute he'll be where I kin git him
--plumb. You go, Sinnet-right off. It's my business."
There was a strange, desperate look in Sinnet's face; it was as hard as
stone, but his eyes had a light of battle in them.
"It's my business right enough, Buck," he said, "and you're not going to
kill Greevy. That girl of his has lost her lover, your boy. It's broke
her heart almost, and there's no use making her an orphan too. She can't
stand it. She's had enough. You leave her father alone--you hear me,
let up!" He stepped between Buckmaster and the ledge of rock from which
the mountaineer was to take aim.
There was a terrible look in Buckmaster's face. He raised his single-
barrelled rifle, as though he would shoot Sinnet; but, at the moment, he
remembered that a shot would warn Greevy, and that he might not have time
to reload. He laid his rifle against a tree swiftly.
"Git away from here," he said, with a strange rattle in his throat.
"Git away quick; he'll be down past here in a minute.
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