Sinnet was speaking. He went and stooped over him. "Em'ly threw me over
for Clint," the voice said huskily, "and I followed to have it out with
Clint. So did Greevy, but Greevy was drunk. I saw them meet. I was
hid. I saw that Clint would kill Greevy, and I fired. I was off my
head--I'd never cared for any woman before, and Greevy was her father.
Clint was off his head too. He had called me names that day--a cardsharp,
and a liar, and a thief, and a skunk, he called me, and I hated him just
then. Greevy fired twice wide. He didn't know but what he killed Clint,
but he didn't. I did. So I tried to stop you, Buck--"
Life was going fast, and speech failed him; but he opened his eyes again
and whispered, "I didn't want to die, Buck. I am only thirty-five, and
it's too soon; but it had to be. Don't look that way, Buck. You got the
man that killed him--plumb. But Em'ly didn't play fair with me--made a
fool of me, the only time in my life I ever cared for a woman. You leave
Greevy alone, Buck, and tell Em'ly for me I wouldn't let you kill her
father."
"You--Sinnet--you, you done it! Why, he'd have fought for you. You--
done it--to him--to Clint!" Now that the blood-feud had been satisfied,
a great change came over the mountaineer.
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