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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

Mind, I won't show myself unless he falls foul of
somebody an' needs me. I want to see if this place where he's
goin' is safe for him. He says nobody can track him there. I
never seen the place yet I couldn't track a man to. Now, Jane,
you stay indoors while I'm gone, an' keep close watch on Fay.
Will you?"
"Yes! Oh yes!"
"An' another thing, Jane," he continued, then paused for
long--"another thing--if you ain't here when I come back--if
you're gone--don't fear, I'll trail you--I'll find you out."
"My dear Lassiter, where could I be gone--as you put it?" asked
Jane, in curious surprise.
"I reckon you might be somewhere. Mebbe tied in an old barn--or
corralled in some gulch--or chained in a cave! Milly Erne
was--till she give in! Mebbe that's news to you....Well, if
you're gone I'll hunt for you."
"No, Lassiter," she replied, sadly and low. "If I'm gone just
forget the unhappy woman whose blinded selfish deceit you repaid
with kindness and love."
She heard a deep, muttering curse, under his breath, and then the
silvery tinkling of his spurs as he moved away.
Jane entered upon the duties of that day with a settled, gloomy
calm. Disaster hung in the dark clouds, in the shade, in the
humid west wind. Blake, when he reported, appeared without his
usual cheer; and Jerd wore a harassed look of a worn and worried
man. And when Judkins put in appearance, riding a lame horse, and
dismounted with the cramp of a rider, his dust-covered figure and
his darkly grim, almost dazed expression told Jane of dire
calamity.


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