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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

We can meet
out here at nights to talk and plan.
"You're to take sides with those who're against me. I'll furnish you
with the money. You'd better appear to be a winning gambler, even if
you're not. How's this plan strike you?"
"Great--except for one thing," I replied. "I hate to lie to Miss
Sampson. She's true blue, Steele."
"Son, you haven't got soft on her?"
"Not a bit. Maybe I'm soft on the little cousin. But I just like Miss
Sampson--think she's fine--could look up to her. And I hate to be
different from what she thinks."
"I understand, Russ," he replied in his deep voice that had such quality
to influence a man. "It's no decent job. You'll be ashamed before her.
So would I. But here's our work, the hardest ever cut out for Rangers.
Think what depends upon it. And--"
"There's something wrong with Miss Sampson's father," I interrupted.
"Something strange if not wrong. No man in this community is beyond us,
Russ, or above suspicion. You've a great opportunity. I needn't say use
your eyes and ears as never before."
"I hope Sampson turns out to be on the square," I replied. "He might be
a lax mayor, too good-natured to uphold law in a wild country. And his
Southern pride would fire at interference.


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