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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Yep," Drazk continued. "Him an' me has seen some times. Whew! Things I couldn't tell you about, at all." "Well, aren't you going to?" Drazk glanced at her curiously. This girl showed signs of leading him out of his depth. But it was a very delightful sensation to feel one's self being led out of his depth by such a girl.
The foothill rancher makes hay by horse power, and almost without the aid of a pitch-fork. Even as Drazk watched he saw a load skidded up; saw its apparent momentary poise in air; saw the well-trained horses stop and turn and start back to the meadow with their sweep. And up the valley Transley's outfit was at a standstill. Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary.
Day by day the girl turned the situation over in her mind. Her life had been swept into strange and unexpected channels, and the experience puzzled her. Since the episode with Drazk she had lost some of her native recklessness; she was more disposed to weigh the result of her actions, and she approached the future not without some misgivings.
Beat it," and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in his face. Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not above a surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed nothing. He followed a path out by a little gate.
"Then I'll change his style of architecture the first time I run into him," said Y.D. savagely. "Zen is too young to think of such a thing, anyway." "She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as Drazk or his type is concerned," Transley returned. "But suppose Y.D., to be quite frank, suppose I suggested " "Transley, you work quick," said Y.D. "I admit I like a quick worker.
Here and there the white ribs of a steer's skeleton peered through the brush; once or twice an overpowering stench gave notice of a carcass not wholly decomposed. It was not a pleasant environment, but in an hour Drazk was out again on the brow of the brown hills, where the sunshine flooded about and a fresh breeze beat up against his face.
An' as for comin' down to meet me, what's the odds, so long as we've met?" He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When Zen's horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. "Will you let go?" the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, but in a white passion. "Will you let go of that bridle, or shall I make you?" He looked her full in the face.
The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far up the sky when Transley's outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George Drazk had opened the gate and waited beside it. "Y.D. wants you an' Linder to eat with him at the house," he said as Transley halted beside him. "The rest of us eat in the bunk-house."
The Landson gang were working farther down the valley, and the stack itself covered approach from the river. Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. The breeze was now coming down the valley. Transley's men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were speeded up to recover lost time.
It was logical, and would be accepted readily by those who knew Drazk. She would not trust herself in further conversation, so she slipped away as soon as she could and spent the day riding down by the river. The afternoon wore on, and as the day was warm she dismounted by a ford and sat down upon a flat rock close to the water.
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