Rocky Mountain Sam — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. 7 detriment to our hero, had not one of the chiefs seized him by the arm, and, pointing away to:the northward, said, in broken English: ““Great Medicine Man—he come—lookee—Firefoot!”’ All eyes were turned in the direction indicated, whence a single horseman was seen careering toward them on a pow- erful horse. | ‘‘Never mind, my beauty, I'll be even with you yet, or my name ain't Rube Tenyck!” growled the renegade. A scornful laugh was the only reply. “‘Go, and paint your cheeks a little bluer,” cried Sam. “It'll help to hide that mark Big Horn left on you in the scrimmage of the Crown Mountain last autumn.” ‘he rider, who now spurred in swiftly among them and vaulted lightly to the ground, made no pretense of disguis- ing his Caucasian race so far as complexion was concerned, though his garb was less a hunter’s dress than that of an Indian warrior of distinction. He was large and finely formed, possessing a countenance which would have been noble and prepossessing but for a mixture of cunning in the firmly set lips and roving lawlessness in the fierce black eyes, which served to render it ignoble and mean. A single glance took in the meaning of the whole situa- tion, and he waved the horde aside and advanced toward the intrepid captive, who eyed him with cool effrontery. “So, Rocky Mountain Sam, we've got you tethered at last,” said the chief. «They wouldn’t have me, though, if they hadn’t caught me asleep over there on the mountain,” said Sam, with a laugh. ‘‘I was dead-beat—almost rubbed out from a fight I had with a grizzly, and’so had to take a bit of Nature’s patent hair restorer, you know. But I want to be let out of this now, and that quick!” | ‘You carry it out bravely for so young a cock; havea care.” ‘‘Look you, Robert Scarlet—ah! start if you will, but I ~ know your real name, if no one else does; and I may guess the secret of your disguising yourself thus, far from the luxurious surroundings among which you were reared—look you! bid those Blackfeet villains of yours to release me at once, or it will go hard with you!” Firefoot—who had started strangely at being addressed by the name of ‘‘Scarlet”—looked inquiringly at the youth, Gomichboo (elo)