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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Accursed be the gold amassed by your family to disturb our peace! Accursed! Accursed!" "May they hang you, heretic!" cried a relative of Albino's. Unable to restrain himself, he caught up a stone and threw it at the youth. This example was quickly followed, and a rain of dirt and stones fell on the wretched young man.
There had to be a near two hundred of them, and he knew, according to the rigorous selection he commanded, not having been clipped in the fall, that the shining mohair draping the sides of the least of them, as fine as any human new-born baby's hair and finer, as white as any human albino's thatch and whiter, was longer than the twelve-inch staple, and that the mohair of the best of them would dye any color into twenty-inch switches for women's heads and sell at prices unreasonable and profound.
A sudden perception of impending indignities stung Denton. "You leave 'im alone, Jim," said the swart man suddenly over the blood-stained rag. "He ain't done nothing to you." The albino's grin vanished. He stopped. He looked from one to the other. It seemed to Denton that the swart man demanded the privilege of his destruction. The albino would have been better.
A pair of eyes that gazed back at him drew his own and he found himself looking at Bentley, the man who repped with the Three Bar for Slade. The albino's suspicions were as fluid and easily roused as those of a beast of prey in a dangerous neighborhood.
I've been seeing it dimly for days, but its success depended a good deal on Mrs. Bal. Now, her being afraid of me makes it easier. I can't lie here idle, with all this going on yet I can't let him see me as I am. My eyes look hideous. They're pink, like an albino's. Otherwise I wouldn't listen to the oculist. But I must do something.
It would break a small outfit to hire enough hands to cover his range and check him up and he'd buy part of those. The albino's men are petty-larceny bandits compared with Slade." Deane turned to the girl. "Billie, why don't you get out of a game where everything is crooked a game of who can steal the most and every man for himself?" he asked.
I've run across their trails up here before." They rode out on to a spur and looked down on the low country. Slade and the ranger were going on, the others returning to the Three Bar. Harris pointed to the country spread out below them. "That's the Breaks," he told Deane. "I'll point out the albino's stronghold." "While they're looking I want to talk to you," Slade said to Billie.
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