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RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
when he brought back the blacks. Son, was Wrangle the best hoss?"
"No, Lassiter," replied Venters. For this lie he had his reward in Jane's quick smile.
"Well, well, my hoss-sense ain't always right. An' here I'm talkin' a lot, wastin' time. It ain't so easy to find an' lose a pretty niece all in one hour! Elizabeth—good-by!"
"Oh, Uncle Jim! . . . Good-by!"
"Elizabeth Erne, be happy! Good-by," said Jane.
"Good-by—oh—good-by!"
In lithe, supple action Bess swung up to Black Star's saddle.
"Jane Withersteen! . . . Good-by!" called Venters, hoarsely.
"Bern—Bess—riders of the purple sage—good-by!"
