[The Last of the Plainsmen by Zane Grey]@TWC D-Link book
The Last of the Plainsmen

CHAPTER 6
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A wash from ten to fifteen feet wide, and as deep, ran through the canyon in a somewhat meandering course.

At the corner which consumed so much of his attention, the dry ditch ran along the cliff wall about fifty feet out; between it and the wall was good level ground, on the other side huge rocks and shale made it hummocky, practically impassable for a horse.

It was plain the mustangs, on their way up, would choose the inside of the wash; and here in the middle of the passage, just round the jutting corner, Jones tied our horses to good, strong bushes.

His next act was significant.

He threw out his lasso and, dragging every crook out of it, carefully recoiled it, and hung it loose over the pommel of his saddle.
"The White Mustang may be yours before dark," he said with the smile that came so seldom.


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