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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Heritage of the Desert"


I was married onct. Not any more for mine! A pal I had used to say thet
whiskey riled him, thet rattlesnake pisen het up his blood some, but it
took a woman to make him plumb bad. D--n if it ain't so. When there's a
woman around there's somethin' allus comin' off."
But the strain, instead of relaxing, became portentous. Holderness
suddenly showed he was ill at ease; he appeared to be expecting arrivals
from the direction of Seeping Springs. Snap Naab leaned against the side
of the door, his narrow gaze cunningly studying the rustlers before him.
More than any other he had caught a foreshadowing. Like the desert-hawk
he could see afar. Suddenly he pressed back against the door, half
opening it while he faced the men.
"Stop!" commanded Holderness. The change in his voice was as if it had
come from another man. "You don't go in there!"
"I'm going to take the girl and ride to White Sage," replied Naab, in
slow deliberation.
"Bah! You say that only for the excuse to get into the cabin with her.
You tried it last night and I blocked you. Shut the door, Naab, or
something'll happen."
"There's more going to happen than ever you think of, Holderness.


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