I fairly trembled in eagerness to grapple with Kirby, hand to hand, and crush him helpless to the earth.

I heard his voice, hateful and snarling, as he cursed Rale for his slowness, and the hot blood boiled in my veins, when he jerked the girl upright in the saddle.
"Thar," said the saloon keeper, at last, testing his strap.

"I reckon she can't fall off nohow, even if she don't sit up worth a damn.

Go ahead now, Moffett." Both the men stepped aside, and I led my horse forward.

The movement brought me more into the open, and face to face with Kirby.