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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey: smoke and the fumes of rum. Through the haze he made out a crowd of men
at a rude bar. Abe went to the door and called out: "Hey, Snap, your dad
wants you. Holderness, here's August Naab."
A man staggered up the few steps leading to the store and swayed in. His
long face had a hawkish cast, and it was gray, not with age, but with the
sage-gray of the desert. His eyes were of the same hue, cold yet burning
with little fiery flecks in their depths. He appeared short of stature
because of a curvature of the spine, but straightened up he would have
been tall. He wore a blue flannel shirt, and blue overalls; round his
lean hips was a belt holding two Colt's revolvers, their heavy, dark
butts projecting outward, and he had on high boots with long, cruel
The Heritage of the Desert |
