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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Starr, of the Desert"

It's hot everywhere to-day, but this is a little
better than out in the sun."
Starr took the glasses down from his eyes and let them dangle by their
cord while he walked over the nose of the ridge to where she was
waiting for him.
Half-way there, a streak of fire seemed to sear his arm near his
shoulder. Starr knew the feeling well enough. He staggered and went
down headlong in a clump of greasewood, and at the same instant the
report of a rifle came clearly from the high pinnacle at the head of
Sunlight Basin.
Helen May came running, her face white with horror, for she had seen
Starr fall just as the sound of the shot came to tell her why. She did
not cry out, but she rushed to where he lay half concealed in the bushes.
When she came near him, she stopped short. For Starr was lying on his
stomach with his head up and elbows in the sand, steadying the glasses to
his eyes that he might search that pinnacle.
"W-what made you fall down like that?" Helen May cried exasperatedly.
"I--I thought you were shot!"
"I am, to a certain extent," Starr told her unconcernedly.


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