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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The U. P. Trail"

There's no law but gold and guns out here ... But--if
you speak of me to any one may your God have mercy on you!"
The blaze of him betrayed the Spaniard. He meant more than dishonor,
torture, and death. The evil in him was rampant. The love that had
been the only good in an abnormal and disordered mind had turned to
hate.
Allie knew him. He was the first person who had ever dominated her
through sheer force of will. Unless she abided by his command her
fate would be worse than if she had stayed captive among the Sioux.
This man was not an American. His years among men of later mold had
not changed the Old World cruelty of his nature. She recognized the
fact in utter despair. She had not strength left to keep her eyes
open.
After a while Allie grew conscious that Durade had left her. She
felt like a creature that had been fascinated by a deadly snake and
then left to itself; in the mean time she could do nothing but wait.
Shudderingly, mournfully, she resigned herself to the feeling that
she must stay under Durade's control until a dominance stronger than
his should release her. Neale seemed suddenly to have retreated far
into the past, to have gone out of the realm of her consciousness.
And yet the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, would make
instantly that spirit of hers--his spirit--to leap like a tigress in
her defense.


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