"That's a great thing to do," he cried, dazed, and stubbing his foot on a
stone stumbled to his knees.
The two others fell on Leff. Susan saw the gun ground into the dust
under their trampling feet and Leff go down on top of it. Daddy John's
tent pole battered at him, and Courant on him, a writhing body, grappled
and wrung at his throat. The doctor came running from the trees, the
hammer in his hand, and Susan grabbed at the descending pole, screaming:
"You're killing him. Father, stop them. They'll murder him."
The sight of his Missy clinging to the pole brought the old man to his
senses, but it took David and the doctor to drag Courant away. For a
moment they were a knot of struggling bodies, from which oaths and
sobbing breaths broke. Upright he shook them off and backed toward the
bank, leaving them looking at him, all expectant. He growled a few
broken words, his face white under the tan, the whole man shaken by a
passion so transforming that they forgot the supine figure and stood
alert, ready to spring upon him. He made a movement of his head toward
Leff.
"Why didn't you let me kill him?" he said huskily.
Pages:
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326