[Illustration] RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE By Zane Grey CONTENTS CHAPTER I. LASSITER CHAPTER II. COTTONWOODS CHAPTER III. AMBER SPRING CHAPTER IV. DECEPTION PASS CHAPTER V. THE MASKED RIDER CHAPTER VI. THE MILL-WHEEL OF STEERS CHAPTER VII. THE DAUGHTER OF WITHERSTEEN CHAPTER VIII. SURPRISE VALLEY CHAPTER IX. SILVER SPRUCE AND ASPENS CHAPTER X. LOVE CHAPTER XI. FAITH AND UNFAITH CHAPTER XII. THE INVISIBLE HAND CHAPTER XIII. SOLITUDE AND STORM CHAPTER XIV. WEST WIND CHAPTER XV. SHADOWS ON THE SAGE-SLOPE CHAPTER XVI. GOLD CHAPTER XVII. WRANGLE’S RACE RUN CHAPTER XVIII. OLDRING’S KNELL CHAPTER XIX. FAY CHAPTER XX. LASSITER’S WAY CHAPTER XXI. BLACK STAR AND NIGHT CHAPTER XXII. RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE CHAPTER XXIII. THE FALL OF BALANCING ROCK ILLUSTRATIONS “He has brought you far to-day?” Like a flash the blue barrel of his rifle gleamed level and he shot once—twice. “Oh, he’s only a boy!... What! Can he be Oldring’s Masked Rider?” “What on earth is that?” He did not pause until he gained the narrow divide “Bess, I’ll not go again” It was Jane’s gaze riveted upon the rider that made Bishop Dyer turn. Venters and Bess finished their simple meal—then faced the open terrace, to watch and await the approaching storm. just as Wrangle plunged again he caught the whizz of a leaden missile and Venters shot him through the heart “Don’t—look—back!” When he and Bess rode up out of the hollow the sun was low. CHAPTER I. LASSITER A sharp clip-clop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage. Jane Withersteen gazed down the wide purple slope with dreamy and troubled eyes. A rider had just left her and it was his message that held her thoughtful and almost sad, awaiting the churchmen who were coming to resent and attack her right to befriend a Gentile. She wondered if the unrest and strife that had lately come to the little village of Cottonwoods was to involve her. And then she sighed, remembering that her father had founded this remotest border settlement of southern Utah and that he had left it to her. She owned all the ground and many of the cottages. Withersteen House was hers, and the great ranch, with its thousands of cattle, and the swiftest horses of the sage. To her belonged Amber Spring, the water which gave verdure and beauty to the village and made living possible on that wild purple upland waste. She could not escape being involved by whatever befell Cottonwoods. That year, 1871, had marked a change which had been gradually coming in the lives of the peace-loving Mormons of the border. Glaze—Stone Bridge—Sterling, villages to the north, had risen against the invasion of Gentile settlers and the forays of rustlers. There had been opposition to the one and fighting with the other. And now Cottonwoods had begun to wake and bestir itself and grown hard.