Tuesday, April 10, 2012
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For one time, at least, in the heart of the supernumerary
there rose the killing instinct. For one moment he joined
the force of combatants -- orally.
"What are you waiting for, Sam?" I said in a whisper.
"Let him have it now!"
Sam gave a melancholy sigh.
"You don't understand; but he does," he said. "He
knows. Mr. Tenderfoot, there's a rule out here among
white men in the Nation that you can't shoot a man when
he's with a woman. I never knew it to be broke yet.
You can't do it. You've got to get him in a gang of men
or by himself. That's why. He knows it, too. We
all know. So, that's Mr. Ben Tatum! One of the
'pretty men'! I'll cut him out of the herd before they
leave the hotel, and regulate his account!"
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