Riders of the Purple Sage (Dover Thrift Editions)

Riders of the Purple Sage (Dover Thrift Editions)

Zane Grey

Language: English

Pages: 256

ISBN: 0486424561

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Initially published in 1912 and the first of Zane Grey's many bestsellers, this stirring tale of adventure in the high country established the prototype for western novels of the twentieth century. The plot's focus is a proud young heroine who's determined to defend her Utah ranch. She stands alone against the villains who rustle and stampede her cattle — until a stranger rides into the territory. Notorious as the scourge of Mormon transgressors, the stranger stays on to assist in the inevitable showdown, and romance blooms amid the canyons and cottonwoods. A classic of American frontier fiction, Riders of the Purple Sage teems with color, authenticity, and thrills.
















remember. You did know my name when you spoke first. Well, tell me where you heard it and from whom?” “At the little village—Glaze, I think it’s called—some fifty miles or more west of here. An’ I heard it from a Gentile, a rider who said you’d know where to tell me to find—” “What?” she demanded, imperiously, as Lassiter broke off. “Milly Erne’s grave,” he answered low, and the words came with a wrench. Venters wheeled in his chair to regard Lassiter in amazement, and Jane slowly raised

girl lost so long ago!” “It might be, Jane. Let us ride on. If he wants to see us again he’ll come.” So they mounted and rode out to the cattle trail and began to climb. From the height of the ridge, where they had started down, Venters looked back. He did not see Lassiter, but his glance, drawn irresistibly farther out on the gradual slope, caught sight of a moving cloud of dust. “Hello, a rider!” “Yes, I see,” said Jane. “That fellow’s riding hard. Jane, there’s something wrong.” “Oh yes,

produces a moment of transport in which Grey is carried out of himself to the point where there is no difference between him and the world around. Such moments distill the essence of Grey’s life and work. It doesn’t matter whether the transport occurs while he is reading Frank in the Mountains or writing about Frank in the mountains, or being Frank in the mountains. What matters is, he has been transported. Here is another example of what I mean. Grey’s biographer Frank Gruber opens his life of

her presence gave. As she went on down the street, past the stores with their rude platform entrances, and the saloons, where tired horses stood with bridles dragging, she was again assured of what was the bread and wine of life to her—that she was loved. Dirty boys playing in the ditch, clerks, teamsters, riders, loungers on the corners, ranchers on dusty horses, little girls running errands, and women hurrying to the stores all looked up at her coming with glad eyes. Jane’s various calls and

Whitie reassured him. The horses had wandered away. Under the clump of silver spruces a denser mantle of darkness, yet not so thick that Venter’s night-practiced eyes could not catch the white oval of a still face. He bent over it with a slight suspension of breath that was both caution lest he frighten her and chill uncertainty of feeling lest he find her dead. But she slept, and he arose to renewed activity. He packed his saddle-bags. The dogs were hungry, they whined about him and nosed his

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