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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

"
"This explains her appeal to Steele. Oh, it'll kill her! You don't know
how proud, how good Diane is. Oh, it'll kill her!"
"Sally, she's no baby. She's got sand, that girl--"
The sound of soft steps somewhere near distracted my attention, reminded
me of my peril, and now, what counted more with me, made clear the
probability of being discovered in Sally's room. "I'll have to get out
of here," I whispered.
"Wait," she replied, detaining me. "Didn't you say they were hunting for
you?"
"They sure are," I returned grimly.
"Oh! Then you mustn't go. They might shoot you before you got away.
Stay. If we hear them you can hide under my bed. I'll turn out the
light. I'll meet them at the door. You can trust me. Stay, Russ. Wait
till all quiets down, if we have to wait till morning. Then you can slip
out."
"Sally, I oughtn't to stay. I don't want to--I won't," I replied
perplexed and stubborn.
"But you must. It's the only safe way. They won't come here."
"Suppose they should? It's an even chance Sampson'll search every room
and corner in this old house. If they found me here I couldn't start a
fight. You might be hurt. Then--the fact of my being here--" I did not
finish what I meant, but instead made a step toward the door.


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