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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

I didn't have time
to stop. I'm wonderin' how you ever found this place. It's sure
interestin'."
During the preparation and eating of dinner Lassiter listened
mostly, as was his wont, and occasionally he spoke in his quaint
and dry way. Venters noted, however, that the rider showed an
increasing interest in Bess. He asked her no questions, and only
directed his attention to her while she was occupied and had no
opportunity to observe his scrutiny. It seemed to Venters that
Lassiter grew more and more absorbed in his study of Bess, and
that he lost his coolness in some strange, softening sympathy.
Then, quite abruptly, he arose and announced the necessity for
his early departure. He said good-by to Bess in a voice gentle
and somewhat broken, and turned hurriedly away. Venters
accompanied him, and they had traversed the terrace, climbed the
weathered slope, and passed under the stone bridge before either
spoke again.
Then Lassiter put a great hand on Venters's shoulder and wheeled
him to meet a smoldering fire of gray eyes.
"Lassiter, I couldn't tell Jane! I couldn't," burst out Venters,
reading his friend's mind. "I tried. But I couldn't. She wouldn't
understand, and she has troubles enough. And I love the girl!"
"Venters, I reckon this beats me. I've seen some queer things in
my time, too. This girl--who is she?"
"I don't know."
"Don't know! What is she, then?"
"I don't know that, either.


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