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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"

I hate to do it, but--I guess it's the only way left."
For the first time in their acquaintance David saw Dick lose control
of himself. His face was convulsed by an expression so violent that
the Virginian drew back in alarm.
"David, I hate the sight o' that man. I'd go to hell to-morrow if I
thought I could have a place where I could look on and see him burn
forever. I never see him now without wanting to stamp that face of his
to jelly. It's growing on me, too. Oh, to kick that white, putty face
until there was nothing left of it! I'd give--" But David had grasped
his arm, to shake him out of his frenzy, speaking to him all the
while. He grew calm as abruptly as he had gone to the other extreme.
His brow was moist, but the old, quizzical smile beamed beneath it.
"I'm going on like a crazy man, ain't I? Well, forget it, kid. I'm off
my nut, I guess. Get back to business. You got to fix it up with her
to see Brad." He paused and eyed David's face narrowly. "Say, are you
still worryin' about what I said about trampin' on his face?"
David had cause afterward to recall the ugly sensation that this
extraordinary burst of rage created in his mind.


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