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Page 253

| Chapter Twenty |

| The river had risen. Holding his rifle up in the air away from the suction of the current, Ashton moved waist-high through the water on his horse. When he finally reached the bank, he nudged his horse's sides with his knees, urging it up the slippery, muddy bank to level, drier ground. |

| Crispin following his lead, Ashton snapped his reins and urged his horse into a gallop through tall, waving grasses, his hand still clutching his rifle. Suddenly several horsemen appeared ahead, riding at neck-breaking speed toward Ashton and Crispin, Stanford Sidwell at the lead. |

| "Looks as though we're goin' to meet trouble head on," Crispin shouted at Ashton. "What say we take a stand, Ashton, and show them we can't be intimidated by them?" |

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