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Cowboy Dave; Or, The Round-up at Rolling River
Frank V. Webster
2004
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What was coming seemed to be a thunderous cloud of dust, from the midst of which came strange, shrill sounds, punc-tuated with sharp cries, that did not appear to be altogether human. The dust-cloud grew thicker, the thunder sounded louder, and the yells were shriller. From one of a group of dull, red buildings a sun-bronzed man stepped forth. He shaded his eyes with a brown, powerful hand, gazed for an instant toward the approaching cloud of animated and vociferous dust.
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