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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"


"Are you--all--all right?" she asked, tremulously.
"I reckon."
"Lassiter, I'll ride away with you. Hide me till danger is
past--till we are forgotten--then take me where you will. Your
people shall be my people, and your God my God!"
He kissed her hand with the quaint grace and courtesy that came
to him in rare moments.
"Black Star an' Night are ready," he said, simply.
His quiet mention of the black racers spurred Jane to action.
Hurrying to her room, she changed to her rider's suit, packed her
jewelry, and the gold that was left, and all the woman's apparel
for which there was space in the saddle-bags, and then returned
to the hall. Black Star stamped his iron-shod hoofs and tossed
his beautiful head, and eyed her with knowing eyes.
"Judkins, I give Bells to you," said Jane. "I hope you will
always keep him and be good to him."
Judkins mumbled thanks that he could not speak fluently, and his
eyes flashed.
Lassiter strapped Jane's saddle-bags upon Black Star, and led the
racers out into the court.
"Judkins, you ride with Jane out into the sage. If you see any
riders comin' shout quick twice. An', Jane, don't look back! I'll
catch up soon. We'll get to the break into the Pass before
midnight, an' then wait until mornin' to go down."
Black Star bent his graceful neck and bowed his noble head, and
his broad shoulders yielded as he knelt for Jane to mount.


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