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Wright, Harold Bell, 1872-1944

"The Shepherd of the Hills"

" She finished with a half sob.
It was almost too much. The man swung around in his saddle, and
the horses, apparently of their own accord, stopped. Without a
word, the big fellow stretched forth his arms, and the girl, as if
swept by a force beyond her control, felt herself swaying toward
him.
The spell was broken by the trampling of horses and the sound of
loud voices. For a moment they held their places, motionless, as
if rudely awakened from a dream. The sound was coming nearer. Then
Young Matt spoke, "It's Wash Gibbs and his crowd from the still.
Ride into the brush quick."
There was no time for flight. In the bright moonlight, they would
have been easily recognized, and a wild chase would have followed.
Leaving the road, they forced their horses into a thick clump of
bushes, where they dismounted, to hold the animals by their heads.
Scarcely had they gained this position when the first of the crowd
reached the spot where they had been a moment before. Wash Gibbs
was easily distinguished by his gigantic form, and with him were
ten others, riding two and two, several of whom were known to
Young Matt as the most lawless characters in the country. All were
fired by drink and were laughing and talking, with now and then a
burst of song, or a vulgar jest.


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