McDermott wiped his moist face and tipped his empty glass to his lips, and swallowed hard. His light-blue eyes held a glint.
“Gineral,” he went on, “yez know Neale. How big he is! Wot nerve he’s got! There niver wor a mon his equal on the U. P. ‘ceptin’ Casey.... But me, nor any wan, nor yez, either, ever seen Neale loike he wuz thin. He niver hesitated an inch, but wint roight fer Durade. Any dom’ fool, even a crazy greaser, would hev seen his finish in Neale. Durade changed quick from hot to cold. An’ he shot Neale.
“Neale laughed. Funny ringin’ sort of laugh, full of thot same joy Durade hed sung out to Lee. Hate an’ love of blood it wor. Yez would hev thought Neale felt wonderful happy to sthop a bullet.
“Thin his hand shot out an’ grabbed Durade.... He jerked him off his feet an’ swung him round. The little derringer flew, an’ Sandy McDermott wuz the mon who picked it up. It’ll be Neale’s whin I see him.... Durade jabbered fer help. But no wan come. Thot big trapper Slingerland stood there with two guns, an’ shure he looked bad. Neale slung Durade around, spillin’ some fellars who didn’t dodge quick, an’ thin he jerked him up backwards.
“An’ Durade come up with a long knife in the one hand he had free.
“Neale yelled, ‘Lee, take the gurl out!’
“I seen thin she hed fainted in Lee’s arms. He lifted her—moved away—an’ thin I seen no more of thim.
“Durade made wild an’ wicked lunges at Neale, only to be jerked off his balance. I heerd the bones crack in the arm Neale held. The greaser screamed. Sudden he wuz turned agin, an’ swung backwards so thot Neale grabbed the other arm—the wan wot held the knife. It wuz a child in the grasp of a giant. Neale shure looked beautiful, I niver wished so much in me loife fer Casey as thin. He would hev enjoyed thot foight, fer he bragged of his friendship fer Neale. An’—”
“Go on, man, end your story!” ordered the general, breathlessly.
“Wal, b’gorra, there wuz more crackin’ of bones, an’ sich screams as I niver heerd from a mon. Tumble, blood-curdlin’!... Neale held both Durade’s hands an’ wuz squeezin’ thot knife-handle so the greaser couldn’t let go.