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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

But she never dreams her
father is a rustler chief. When she finds that out--" Sally broke off
and I finished the sentence in thought.
"Listen, Sally," I said, suddenly. "I've an idea that Steele's house
will be attacked by the gang to-night, and destroyed, same as the jail
was this afternoon. These rustlers are crazy. They'll expect to kill him
while he's there. But he won't be there. If you and Diane hear shooting
and yelling to-night don't be frightened. Steele and I will be safe."
"Oh, I hope so. Russ, I must hurry back. But, first, can't you arrange a
meeting between Diane and Steele? It's her wish. She begged me to. She
must see him."
"I'll try," I promised, knowing that promise would be hard to keep.
"We could ride out from the ranch somewhere. You remember we used to
rest on the high ridge where there was a shady place--such a beautiful
outlook? It was there I--I--"
"My dear, you needn't bring up painful memories. I remember where."
Sally laughed softly. She could laugh in the face of the gloomiest
prospects. "Well, to-morrow morning, or the next, or any morning soon,
you tie your red scarf on the dead branch of that high mesquite. I'll
look every morning with the glass.


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