[Frontier Stories by Bret Harte]@TWC D-Link book
Frontier Stories

CHAPTER I
9/15

As he went on, the wood became lighter and lighter; branches, and presently leaves, were painted against the vivid blue of the sky.

He knew he must be near the summit, stopped, felt for his revolver, and then lightly put the few remaining branches aside.
The full glare of the noonday sun at first blinded him.

When he could see more clearly, he found himself on the open western slope of the mountain, which in the Coast Range was seldom wooded.

The spiced thicket stretched between him and the summit, and again between him and the stage road that plunges from the terrace, like forked lightning into the valley below.

He could command all the approaches without being seen.


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