Explore "The Spirit of the Border" by Zane Grey on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Jim, come out here," called Edwards at the window of Mr. Wells' cabin.
The young man arose from the breakfast table, and when outside found Edwards standing by the door with an Indian brave. He was a Wyandot lightly built, lithe and wiry, easily recognizable as an Indian runner. When Jim appeared the man handed him a small packet. He unwound a few folds of some oily skin to find a square piece of birch bark, upon which were scratched the following words: