Library / Literature & Fiction

Riders of the Purple Sage

by Zane Grey

Pages
about 377
Category
Literature & Fiction
Language
English
Reading time
6.9 h at 250 wpm
Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 3.8 h at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

Venters appeared too deeply moved to speak the gratitude his face expressed. And Jane turned upon the rescuer and gripped his hands. Her smiles and tears seemingly dazed him. Presently as something like calmness returned, she went to Lassiter’s weary horse.

“I will water him myself,” she said, and she led the horse to a trough under a huge old cottonwood. With nimble fingers she loosened the bridle and removed the bit. The horse snorted and bent his head. The trough was of solid stone, hollowed out, moss-covered and green and wet and cool, and the clear brown water that fed it spouted and splashed from a wooden pipe.

“Some men once roped an’ tied him, an’ then held white-iron close to his eyes.”

“To take revenge on a horse! Lassiter, the men of my creed are unnaturally cruel. To my everlasting sorrow I confess it. They have been driven, hated, scourged till their hearts have hardened. But we women hope and pray for the time when our men will soften.”

“Oh, it will!... Lassiter, do you think Mormon women wicked? Has your hand been against them, too?”

“No. I believe Mormon women are the best and noblest, the most long-sufferin’, and the blindest, unhappiest women on earth.”

“Ah!” She gave him a grave, thoughtful look. “Then you will break bread with me?”

Lassiter had no ready response, and he uneasily shifted his weight from one leg to another, and turned his sombrero round and round in his hands. “Ma’am,” he began, presently, “I reckon your kindness of heart makes you overlook things. Perhaps I ain’t well known hereabouts, but back up North there’s Mormons who’d rest uneasy in their graves at the idea of me sittin’ to table with you.”

“Mebbe you have a brother or relative who might drop in an’ be offended, an’ I wouldn’t want to—”

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