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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: bullets. The riders faced Venters, some with red-belching guns.
He heard a sharper report, and just as Wrangle plunged again he
caught the whim of a leaden missile that would have hit him but
for Wrangle's sudden jump. A swift, hot wave, turning cold,
passed over Venters. Deliberately he picked out the one rider
with a carbine, and killed him. Wrangle snorted shrilly and
bolted into the sage. Venters let him run a few rods, then with
iron arm checked him.
Five riders, surely rustlers, were left. One leaped out of the
saddle to secure his fallen comrade's carbine. A shot from
Venters, which missed the man but sent the dust flying over him
Riders of the Purple Sage |
