Sunset Pass (1990) Read Online Free
Author: Zane Grey
An' he ships a good many beeves."
"Ships? Out of town?"
"I should smile. They have worked into a considerable business. I saw this opportunity years ago. But didn't have the capital."
Rock pondered over his friend's disclosures, and Thiry Preston's sad face returned to haunt him.
"Sol, what do you think about Ash Preston?" asked Rock.
"Well, son, I'm sure curious to ask you that same question," replied Winter. "How did this fellow strike you?"
"Like a hard fist, right in the eye," acknowledged Rock.
"Ahuh. Rock, the Prestons are all out of the ordinary. Take Thiry, for instance. How did she, strike you?"
Trueman placed a slow heavy hand on the region of his heart, as if words were useless.
"Well, I wouldn't give two bits for you if she hadn't. Son, I've a hunch your comin' back means a lot. Wal, to go on--these Prestons are a mighty strikin' outfit. An' Ash Preston stands out even among them. He's a great rider of the range in all pertainin' to that, hard game. He can drink more, fight harder, shoot quicker than any man in these parts. He's sure the meanest, coldest, nerviest, deadliest proposition you're likely to stack up against in your life. I just want to give you a hunch, seein' you went sweet on Thiry."
"Sweet on that girl! No! I've been sweet on a hundred girls. This is different, somethin' terrible. Ten thousand times sweet!"
"Trueman, your trail will sure be rough."
"Listen, old friend. There's only one thing that could stump me. Tell me. Do you know Thiry real well?"
"Yes, son, an' I can answer that question so plain in your eyes. Thiry is not in love with anybody. I know, because she told me herself, not so long ago."
"That'll--help," replied Rock, swallowing hard. "Now, Sol, I'll sneak off alone somewhere and try to find out what's the matter with me--and what to de about it."
Trueman sallied forth into the sunlight like a man possessed. He did not notice the heat while he was striding out of town, but, when he got to the cedars and mounted a slope to a lonely spot he was grateful for the cool shade. He threw aside coat and sombrero, and lay down on the fragrant mat of cedar needles. How good to be there!
Only one thing had stood in the way of a happy return to Wagontongue, and that had been possibility of a clash with Cass Seward, the sheriff. This now no longer perturbed him. It had been reckless, perhaps foolish, for him to come back, when he had known that the probabilities were that Cass would try to make him show yellow and clap him in jail, because of a shooting affray which Rock had not started. But it had been Rock's way to come, not knowing; and that hazard was past. Rock gladly welcomed the fact that he had a clean slate before him.
That grey-eyed girl, Thiry Preston! Here he did surrender. He had been struck through the heart. And all the fight there was seemed directed against himself--a wavering, lessening doubt that he could be as marvelously transformed as he thought. And then, one by one, in solemn procession, there passed before his memory's eye the other girls he had known, trifled with, liked, or loved. He watched them pass by, out of the shade, it seemed, into the past forever.
Thiry Preston had made them vanish, as if by magic. She was the girl. All his life he had been dreaming of her. To realize she actually lived!
At length Rock started to retrace his steps toward town. A young woman coming out of Dabb's large establishment, almost ran into him.
"True Rock.--aren't you going to speak to me?" she burst out.
He knew the voice, the face, too, the sparkling, astonished eyes.
"True--don't you know me? It's Amy."
"Why, Mrs. Dabb, this is a surprise!" he said, doffing his sombrero. "I'm sure glad to see you."
"Mrs. Dabb? Not Amy?" she replied with captivating smile and look Rock found strangely familiar.
"Someone told me you were married to my old boss, John Dabb," said Rock easily. "You sure look fine. And prosperous, too."
She did not like his slow, cool
"Ships? Out of town?"
"I should smile. They have worked into a considerable business. I saw this opportunity years ago. But didn't have the capital."
Rock pondered over his friend's disclosures, and Thiry Preston's sad face returned to haunt him.
"Sol, what do you think about Ash Preston?" asked Rock.
"Well, son, I'm sure curious to ask you that same question," replied Winter. "How did this fellow strike you?"
"Like a hard fist, right in the eye," acknowledged Rock.
"Ahuh. Rock, the Prestons are all out of the ordinary. Take Thiry, for instance. How did she, strike you?"
Trueman placed a slow heavy hand on the region of his heart, as if words were useless.
"Well, I wouldn't give two bits for you if she hadn't. Son, I've a hunch your comin' back means a lot. Wal, to go on--these Prestons are a mighty strikin' outfit. An' Ash Preston stands out even among them. He's a great rider of the range in all pertainin' to that, hard game. He can drink more, fight harder, shoot quicker than any man in these parts. He's sure the meanest, coldest, nerviest, deadliest proposition you're likely to stack up against in your life. I just want to give you a hunch, seein' you went sweet on Thiry."
"Sweet on that girl! No! I've been sweet on a hundred girls. This is different, somethin' terrible. Ten thousand times sweet!"
"Trueman, your trail will sure be rough."
"Listen, old friend. There's only one thing that could stump me. Tell me. Do you know Thiry real well?"
"Yes, son, an' I can answer that question so plain in your eyes. Thiry is not in love with anybody. I know, because she told me herself, not so long ago."
"That'll--help," replied Rock, swallowing hard. "Now, Sol, I'll sneak off alone somewhere and try to find out what's the matter with me--and what to de about it."
Trueman sallied forth into the sunlight like a man possessed. He did not notice the heat while he was striding out of town, but, when he got to the cedars and mounted a slope to a lonely spot he was grateful for the cool shade. He threw aside coat and sombrero, and lay down on the fragrant mat of cedar needles. How good to be there!
Only one thing had stood in the way of a happy return to Wagontongue, and that had been possibility of a clash with Cass Seward, the sheriff. This now no longer perturbed him. It had been reckless, perhaps foolish, for him to come back, when he had known that the probabilities were that Cass would try to make him show yellow and clap him in jail, because of a shooting affray which Rock had not started. But it had been Rock's way to come, not knowing; and that hazard was past. Rock gladly welcomed the fact that he had a clean slate before him.
That grey-eyed girl, Thiry Preston! Here he did surrender. He had been struck through the heart. And all the fight there was seemed directed against himself--a wavering, lessening doubt that he could be as marvelously transformed as he thought. And then, one by one, in solemn procession, there passed before his memory's eye the other girls he had known, trifled with, liked, or loved. He watched them pass by, out of the shade, it seemed, into the past forever.
Thiry Preston had made them vanish, as if by magic. She was the girl. All his life he had been dreaming of her. To realize she actually lived!
At length Rock started to retrace his steps toward town. A young woman coming out of Dabb's large establishment, almost ran into him.
"True Rock.--aren't you going to speak to me?" she burst out.
He knew the voice, the face, too, the sparkling, astonished eyes.
"True--don't you know me? It's Amy."
"Why, Mrs. Dabb, this is a surprise!" he said, doffing his sombrero. "I'm sure glad to see you."
"Mrs. Dabb? Not Amy?" she replied with captivating smile and look Rock found strangely familiar.
"Someone told me you were married to my old boss, John Dabb," said Rock easily. "You sure look fine. And prosperous, too."
She did not like his slow, cool
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