[The Sagebrusher by Emerson Hough]@TWC D-Link book
The Sagebrusher

CHAPTER XII
14/24

He reached down silently to the stout spruce stick, charred at one end, that stood between him and the stove.

Grasping it he advanced on tiptoe, silent as a cat, toward the woman.

He was convinced that her sight was poor, almost convinced that she did not see at all, because she made no move when he stopped, the stick drawn back.

With a swift sweep he struck the barrel of the revolver a blow so forceful that it was cast quite across the room.

He sprang upon it at once.
Mary Warren cried out, drew back as far as she could.


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