The Desert of Wheat
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Pushing Around the Weathervane Jesus
The Desert of WheatZane Grey “Me too, though I ain’t no youngster,” he replied. “Reckon you’d better go in now, Miss Lenore….Don’t you worry none or lose any sleep.” Lenore bade the cowboy good-night and went to the sitting-room. Her mother sat preoccupied, with sad and thoughtful face. Rose was writing many pages to Jim. Continue reading