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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: drifted over the noon, allowing only a pale, wan light to shine down on the
valley. Time dragged on and the clouds grew thicker and denser until the moon
and the stars were totally obscured. Still no sign or sound of the savages.
"What was that?" suddenly whispered Col. Zane.
"It was a low whistle from Sam. We'd better go up," said Jonathan.
They went up the stairs to the second floor from which they ascended to the
loft by means of a ladder. The loft was as black as pitch. In that Egyptian
darkness it was no use to look for anything, so they crawled on their hands
and knees over the piles of hides and leather which lay on the floor When they
reached the small window they made out the form of the negro.
"What is it, Sam?" whispered Jonathan.
 Betty Zane |