On the quiet, what do you reckon you're going to do to the greaser ?" Jack shifted his glance to Dade's face, tense with anxiety while he waited.

He looked out over the slope dotted thickly with people, laughed briefly and mirthlessly, and then looked full at Bill.
"I reckon I'm going to kill him," he said very quietly.
Big Bill stared.

"Say! I'm glad I ain't the greaser," he said dryly, answering a certain something in Jack's eyes and around his lips.

Bill had heard men threaten death, before now; but he did not think of this as a threat.

To him it seemed a sentence of death.
"Jack, you'll be sorry for it," warned Dade under his breath.