Explore "Perch of the Devil" by Gertrude Atherton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gregory had worn a clean suit of overalls into the mine. He was now spattered from head to foot, including his face and hands, but he swung along beside Ora with an unconsciousness of his disreputable appearance that was quite superb. All the miners of the three camps' off shift were gathered about the saloon. As Gregory appeared the greater number of these men cheered wildly, but the "dark men," who stood apart, maintained an ominous silence.
"Aren't you afraid they'll take a shot at you some night? " asked Ora. "How they must hate you!"