“Now, you murderous brute!” he said, when Perkins reappeared. “Come down to the barn where no girl can interfere.” He turned towards the barn.
“Hold on!” said Perkins, breathing heavily. “Not to-night. I want to say something. She's waiting to see me go upstairs.”
Cameron came back.
“What have you got to say, you cur?” he asked in a voice filled with a cold and deliberate contempt.
“Don't you call no names,” replied Perkins. “It ain't no use.” His voice was low, trembling, but gravely earnest. “Say, I might have killed you to-night.” His breath was still coming in quick short gasps.
“You tried your best, you dog!” said Cameron.
“Don't you call no names,” panted Perkins again. “I might—a—killed yeh. I'm mighty—glad—I didn't.” He spoke like a man who had had a great deliverance. “But don't yeh,” here his teeth snapped like a dog's, “don't yeh ever go foolin' with that girl again. Don't yeh—ever—do it. I seen yeh huggin' her in there and I tell yeh—I tell yeh—,” his breath began to come in sobs, “I won't stand it—I'll kill yeh, sure as God's in heaven.”
“Are you mad?” said Cameron, scanning narrowly the white distorted face.
“Mad? Yes, I guess so—I dunno—but don't yeh do it, that's all. She's mine! Mine! D'yeh hear?”
He stepped forward and thrust his snarling face into Cameron's.