|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Lone Star Ranger by Zane Grey: anything. They might draw all his fire and then capture him.
His horror of hanging was so great as to be all out of
proportion compared to his gun-fighter's instinct of
self-preservation.
A race began then, a dusty, crashing drive through gray
mesquite. Duane could scarcely see, he was so blinded by
stinging branches across his eyes. The hollow wind roared in
his ears. He lost his sense of the nearness of his pursuers.
But they must have been close. Did they shoot at him? He
imagined he heard shots. But that might have been the cracking
of dead snags. His left arm hung limp, almost useless; he
 The Lone Star Ranger |