Never before had Rawley seen Young Jess in a rage. A surly, ignorant fellow he knew him to be, and not too intelligent. A dangerous fellow, Rawley believed him; quite capable of killing any man who thwarted him or roused his fury. But Rawley did not move or attempt to placate him. He had learned that some natures must blow up a great storm before they can yield. He hoped that this was the case with Young Jess.
The old vulture craned his neck forward, his eyes piercingly malevolent.
“Think I’ve waited fifty year fer that gold, t’ be robbed of it now? They ain’t no gov’ment on earth can step in an’ take what’s mine! I’ll blow ’em to hell first! I’ll—”
As once before, when he thought his gold was threatened, Old Jess ran the full gamut of anathema. Nevada fled from the sound of his cracked
