Rocky Mountain Sam — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. 121 ‘‘Ay; a dozen to one.” “I don’t say that, pard. Yer see——” Big Horn, contrary to his want, was evidently ripening for a long yarn, and as the breakfast was over, the professor made bold to interrupt him. ‘‘We must make another ascent at once,” said he. ‘You fellows can stay here all day—and I reckon you’ll have all you can do in turning a portion of this plain into a burying- ground,” he added, looking around upon the ghastly | mementoes of the fight, which littered and heaped the ground ineyvery. direction; but we must contmue the prose- cution of our search, and bring the Prairie Blossom into camp, if possible.” Lieutenant Dutton’s eyes gleaned. “But are not you and Sam and Fayaway also worn out?” he asked, repressing the smile of selfish pleasure which the mention of his sweetheart’s name had given him. “Not quite; and if we are we can have ample time to rest cur limbs in the car. Worn out? Excuse me, sir, but pale and tired as you look yourself, you can. know little of ex- treme fatigue. Why, in the summer of 1810, when I was crossirg the icy barriers of the great Antarctic Ocean, you’d have thought sf ‘“All aboard!” roared Sam, springing to his feet, and making a bee-line for the balloon.. ‘‘Come, Fayaway! Come, professor! you know yer said yourself there was no time to spare.” The professor was a little huffy at having his unlucky story nipped in the bud, but he had grown somewhat used to it by this time, and followed his companions as they sprang into their car. But before they had tripped anchor, . Big Horn again strode toward them, and again patted the Indian maiden patronizingly under the chin, while she hung her pretty head in silence. | ‘‘Leetle gal,” said he, gently, ‘‘d’ye remember my sayin’ aforetime as how you was a leetle brick?” “Yes; Fayaway much remember the white chief’s words.” : : ‘‘Wall, you are a brick!” repeated Big Horn, emphati- cally; ‘fan’ not only that, but you air a fust-class, up-an’-up, gold-beveled, silver brick! Who says she ain’t no brick?” he exclaimed, raising his voice, and wheeling around with a defiant glare at the rest. Comicboo €o EEE ee ee ae