"You damned beasts! You dirty damned beasts."
Lydia, bruised and shaken, clung to him breathlessly, then cried, "Go ahead, Billy!"
He glanced down at her and saw a streak of blood on her forehead. His face worked and he began to sob and curse like a madman.
"They've hurt you, the hellhounds! I'll kill somebody for this."
Kicking, striking with his free arm, oaths rolling from his lips, he burst through the crowd and rushed Lydia to the free space about the flagpole where Charlie Jackson stood coolly watching the proceedings.
Billy shook his fist under the Indian's nose.
"Get down there and call the pack off or I'll brain you."
Jackson shrugged his shoulders, calmly. "Let 'em have their fun. It's their last blowout. I hope they do kill Levine and Marshall."
Lydia pulled herself free of Billy. Her voice was trembling, but she had not lost her head.
"Call them off, Charlie. It'll just mean trouble in the end for all of you if you don't."