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Riders of the Purple Sage
Zane Grey

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RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE 

ZANE GREY 

CHAPTER I.  LASSITER 

A sharp clip-crop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and
clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over
the sage. 

Jane Withersteen gazed down the wide purple slope with dreamy and
troubled eyes.  A rider had just left her and it was his message
that held her thoughtful and almost sad, awaiting the churchmen
who were coming to resent and attack her right to befriend a
Gentile. 

She wondered if the unrest and strife that had lately come to the
little village of Cottonwoods was to involve her.  And then she
sighed, remembering that her father had founded this remotest

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