In Search of an Unknown Race — page 175: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

VAN. 163 saints forgive me if I’m wrong, but I mistrust the smooth-faced young furriner wid a devil hid back in his eye o ‘“Trus’ me for dat,” grimly returned the negro be- tween his strong white teeth. Then, catching Ninada from Manola’s arms, he strode with her rapidly toward the pier where the steamer lay in waiting. In a state of merciful unconsciousness, the girl was taken on board and carefully laid on the canvas cot in Captain McGrath’s little stateroom, which he had placed at the disposal of the two females. Flores, pale as death, cast a last glance backward at the spot where Father Felix, on his knees beside the outstretched form, was saying prayers for the repose of the dead. Then he ran down to the pier and sprang on board. The fasts were cast off, and the boat, swinging out into the swift current, began her voyage. Ascending to the wheel-house, Flores told Captain McGrath that his companion had been killed with a poisoned arrow, probably by a wandering Indian, who had robbed the body and fled. Flores—so he said— had made all arrangements with the priest for the young man’s burial, and, under the circumstances, they could have done no good by remaining. It was imper- atively necessary that they should reach Para as soon as possible. ‘‘Had the puir laddie much siller aboot him?” was the characteristic query of the canny Scotchman. ‘Only a few dollars, I believe,” was the careless reply. Then, after accounting for the unusual presence of two females so far from the confines of civilization, GomMmichbooks (G(0) im