We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
GREY S SUSPICIONS ARE AROUSED
hoarsely. "He always hated him — he '11 fix it ! Heavens above ! she shant have him, I say ! ' '
And, paralyzed by hate, she did not guess that she was setting a pitfall for her own feet.
The next evening was a still, lucid one of sharp shadows and silver moon. Belle, hurrying to her tryst, watched the slender shadow-self flitting by her side, and marveled with divine blushes to remember that henceforth there would walk beside the silent image a tall man-shadow thru all their dear days.
Behind, almost as noiseless as a shadow, flitted another slim womanform, like a hound nosing its prey, and ignorant as Belle that she, too, was followed.
Pedro was a little late. He crashed thru the underbrush recklessly, and into — a crouching, spying form. The man turned, a mass of hate and grief, upon him, with an inarticulate snarl.
"You — you dirty scoundrel "
Surprised and displeased, Pedro promptly knocked him down. As he fell, George Grey laughed viciously:
"Go on. You're late; she's there already, and Craven has a gun."
46
Crash ! the bushes snapped and snarled under startled feet. The man crouched over his rifle in the arbor at the hilltop lifted the gun-barrel. The moon's rays flashed along the steel in cold, blue fire. But the figure that flung itself from the blurred shadows was unexpectedly small and light.
"Stop — dont shoot! You're murdering an innocent man ! ' '
Jane Grey flung herself like a wild hunted thing upon Craven, grappling for the gun. Her lips were bitten thru with the effort, and long shudders shook her as they might a sleepwalker suddenly awakened on the edge of a precipice.
"What you buttin' in here for?" the man snarled, shaking her like a rat. "I'm not doing this for you; it's your husband's job "
"Yes, and he'll finish it himself!" George Grey said grimly. His bruised face was ghastly in the white, merciless light. "You'd make love to my wife, would you, you greaser blackguard "
The words trailed out into a gasp as he saw Craven 's face clearly. Muttering his defeat, the overseer flung