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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"

He became livid, and his face was distorted
with rage.
"It's bad enough to have these renegades plotting and working
against our religion; to have them sow discontent, spread lies, make
the Indians think we have axes to grind, to plant the only obstacle
in our path--all this is bad; but to doom an innocent white woman to
worse than death! What can I call it!"
"What can we do?" asked Jim.
"Do? That's the worst of it. We can do nothing, nothing. We dare not
move."
"Is there no hope of getting Kate back?"
"Hope? None. That villain is surrounded by his savages. He'll lie
low now for a while. I've heard of such deeds many a time, but it
never before came so close home. Kate Wells was a pure, loving
Christian woman. She'll live an hour, a day, a week, perhaps, in
that snake's clutches, and then she'll die. Thank God!"
"Wetzel has gone on Girty's trail. I know that from his manner when
he left us," said Edwards.
"Wetzel may avenge her, but he can never save her. It's too late.
Hello---"
The exclamation was called forth by the appearance of Young, who
entered with a rifle in his hands.
"George, where are you going with that gun?" asked Edwards, grasping
his friend by the arm.
"I'm going after her," answered George wildly. He tottered as he
spoke, but wrenched himself free from Dave.


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