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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

The girl's face was
very grave, and now and again she watched me walking or trotting
alongside at such speed as I could muster. My clothing was covered with
blood from my wound.
I looked always for some little rivulet which I knew must lead us to the
Platte, but we struck no running water until late that evening, and then
could not be sure that we had found an actual water course. There were
some pools of water standing in a coulee, at whose head grew a clump of
wild plum trees and other straggly growth. At least here was water and
some sort of shelter. I dared go no farther.
Over in the west I saw rising a low, black bank of clouds. A film was
coming across the sky. Any way I looked I could see no break, no
landmark, no trend of the land which could offer any sort of guidance.
I wished myself all places in the world but there, and reproached myself
bitterly that through my clumsiness I had brought the girl into such a
situation.
"Miss Meriwether," I said to her finally, putting my hand on the pommel
of her saddle as we halted, "it's no use. We might as well admit it; we
are lost."


CHAPTER XXV
CLEAVING ONLY UNTO HER.

She made no great outcry.


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