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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Desert Gold"


Send me a line whenever any one comes in from F. R., and inclose
Mercedes's letter in yours. Take care of her, Dick, and may the
future hold in store for you some of the sweetness I know now!
Faithfully yours,
Thorne.

Dick reread the letter, then folded it and placed it under his pillow.
"Never cared for pretty girls, huh?" he soliloquized. "George, I
never saw any till I struck Southern Arizona! Guess I'd better make
up for lost time."
While he was eating his supper, with appetite rapidly returning
to normal, Ladd and Jim came in, bowing their tall heads to enter
the door. Their friendly advances were singularly welcome to
Gale, but he was still backward. He allowed himself to show that
he was glad to see them, and he listened. Jim Lash had heard from
Belding the result of the mauling given to Rojas by Dick. And Jim
talked about what a grand thing that was. Ladd had a good deal
to say about Belding's horses. It took no keen judge of human
nature to see that horses constituted Ladd's ruling passion.
"I've had wimmen go back on me, but never no hoss!" declared
Ladd, and manifestly that was a controlling truth with him.
"Shore it's a cinch Beldin' is agoin' to lose some of them hosses,"
he said. "You can search me if I don't think there'll be more
doin' on the border here than along the Rio Grande. We're just
the same as on Greaser soil. Mebbe we don't stand no such chance
of bein' shot up as we would across the line.


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