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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

He placed the stones some yards apart. He left
the rabbit lying upon the bench where the steps began. Then he
addressed a keen-sighted, remembering gaze to the rim-wall above.
It was serrated, and between two spears of rock, directly in line
with his position, showed a zigzag crack that at night would let
through the gleam of sky. This settled, he put on his belt and
boots and prepared to descend. Some consideration was necessary
to decide whether or not to leave his rifle there. On the return,
carrying the girl and a pack, it would be added encumbrance; and
after debating the matter he left the rifle leaning against the
bench. As he went straight down the slope he halted every few
rods to look up at his mark on the rim. It changed, but he fixed
each change in his memory. When he reached the first cedar-tree,
he tied his scarf upon a dead branch, and then hurried toward
camp, having no more concern about finding his trail upon the
return trip.
Darkness soon emboldened and lent him greater speed. It occurred
to him, as he glided into the grassy glade near camp and head the
whinny of a horse, that he had forgotten Wrangle. The big sorrel
could not be gotten into Surprise Valley. He would have to be
left here.
Venters determined at once to lead the other horses out through
the thicket and turn them loose. The farther they wandered from
this canyon the better it would suit him.


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