The menace suddenly left the voice, unconsciously giving place to a note of tenderness and of vague self-fear.
“I love that girl better ’n you er life er anything 314 else, Bud; I tell ye this square to yer face. I can’t stand it. I followed ye last night clean home from the party––an’ I had a knife. I jest couldn’t help it. Every time I know nex’ time it’ll happen. I don’t ask ye to give her up, Bud, but to settle it with me now, fair an’ open, ’fore I do something I can’t help.”
He strode swiftly to and fro across the room as he spoke, his skin-shod feet tapping muffled upon the bare floor, like the pads of an animal. The fur of his leggings, rubbing together as he walked, generated static sparks which snapped audibly. He halted presently by the fireplace, and looked down at the man lying there.
“It’s ’tween us, Bud,” he said, passion quivering in his voice.
Minutes passed before Bud Ellis spoke, then he shifted his head, quickly, and for the first time squarely met Clayton’s eyes.
“You say it’s between you and me,” he initiated slowly: “how do you propose to settle it?”
The other man hesitated, then his face grew red.
“Ye make it hard for me, Bud, ’s though I 315 was a boy talkin’ to ye big here; but it’s true, as I told ye: I ain’t myself when I see ye settin’ close to ’Liz’beth, er dancin’ with your arm touchin’ hern. I ain’t no coward, Bud; an’ I can’t give her up––to you ner nobody else.
“I hate it. We’ve always been like brothers afore, an’ it ’pears kinder dreamy ’n foolish ’n unnatural us settin’ here talkin’ ’bout it; but there ain’t no other way I can see. I give ye yer choice, Bud: I’ll fight ye fair any way y’ want.”
Ellis’s attitude remained unchanged: one big hand supported his chin while he gazed silently into the fire. Clayton stood contemplating him a moment, then sat down.