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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

An old stone house.
Great mossy oaks. A lake and river. There are bear, deer, panther, wild
boars in the breaks. You can hunt. And ride! I've horses, Russ, such
horses! They could run these scrubby broncos off their legs. Will you
come?"
"Come! Sally, I rather think I will. But, dearest, after I'm well again
I must work," I said earnestly. "I've got to have a job."
"You're indeed a poor cowboy out of a job! Remember your deceit. Oh,
Russ! Well, you'll have work, never fear."
"Sally, is this old home of yours near the one Diane speaks of so much?"
I asked.
"Indeed it is. But hers has been kept under cultivation and in repair,
while mine has run down. That will be our work, to build it up. So it's
settled then?"
"Almost. There are certain--er--formalities--needful in a compact of
this kind." She looked inquiringly at me, with a soft flush. "Well, if
you are so dense, try to bring back that Sally Langdon who used to
torment me. How you broke your promises! How you leaned from your
saddle! Kiss me, Sally!"
Later, as we drew close to Uvalde, Sally and I sat in one seat, after
the manner of Diane and Vaughn, and we looked out over the west where
the sun was setting behind dim and distant mountains.


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