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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Desert Gold"

His
head shot up with the old, wild, spirited sweep. Gale leveled his
glass at the patch of mesquites. He saw the raiders running to an
open place, pointing, gesticulating. The glass brought them so
close that he saw the dark faces. Suddenly they broke and fled
back among the trees. Then he got only white and dark gleams
of moving bodies. Evidently that moment was one of boots, guns,
and saddles for the raiders.
Lowering the glass, Gale saw that Blanco Sol had started
forward again. His gait was now a canter, and he had covered
another quarter of a mile before horses and raiders appeared
upon the outskirts of the mesquites. Then Blanco Sol stopped.
His shrill, ringing whistle came distinctly to Gale's ears.
The raiders were mounted on dark horses, and they stood abreast
in a motionless line. Gale chuckled as he appreciated what
a puzzle the situation presented for them. A lone horseman in the
middle of the valley did not perhaps seem so menacing himself
as the possibilities his presence suggested.
Then Gale saw a raider gallop swiftly from the group toward the
farther outlet of the valley. This might have been owing to
characteristic cowardice; but it was more likely a move of the
raiders to make sure of retreat. Undoubtedly Ladd saw this
galloping horseman. A few waiting moments ensued. The galloping
horseman reached the slope, began to climb. With naked eyes Gale
saw a puff of white smoke spring out of the rocks.


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