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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Heritage of the Desert"


To Hare the time had been as a moment; he was amazed to find the sun had
gone down behind Coconina. If August Naab had left the oasis at dawn he
must now be near the divide, unless he had been delayed by a wind-storm
at the strip of sand. Hare longed to see the roan charger come up over
the crest; he longed to see a file of Navajos, plumes waving, dark
mustangs gleaming in the red light, sweep down the stony ridge toward the
cedars. "If they come," he whispered, "I'll kill Holderness and Snap and
any man who tries to open that cabin door."
So he waited in tense watchfulness, his gaze alternating between the wavy
line of the divide and the camp glade. Out in the valley it was still
daylight, but under the cliff twilight had fallen. All day Hare had
strained his ears to hear the talk of the rustlers, and it now occurred
to him that if he climbed down through the split in the cliff to the
bench where Dave and George had always hidden to watch the spring he
would be just above the camp. This descent involved risk, but since it
would enable him to see the cabin door when darkness set in, he decided
to venture.


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