He could feel it coming now, the dry mouth, the sick, empty feeling in the belly. This time it would be for keeps. One of them would die. Charlie Gant was like a mad dog that would bite and tar at anything in his lust to destroy. Take a brave man every time, Zeb thought - I'd fear a brave man less than a coward. The coward has no scruples.
(from How the West Was Won, by Louis L'Amour)
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