Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

Taking French Leave. 153 his liberty might be abridged; but, greatly to his satisfaction, this did not occur. Hope grew stronger in his heart. At least he would be given a chance. If the effort turned out a dismal failure, he could always feel that he had done his best. The minutes dragged. Really, never in all his life had a space of sixty seconds seemed so long to him. Would the village never grow quiet? It appeared that the youngsters were in an un- usually frolicsome mood, as though especially desir- ous of exasperating him, while the braves sat around the various fires, smoking and recounting past valor- ous deeds, as if sleep had no charms for them. Cuthbert grew uneasy. In another hour or so the moon would be peep- ing up, and he knew his difficulties in quitting the village must be doubled under such circumstances. Jealously he watched them disappear, one by one, until finally only a few remained to fix the fires for the night, when the encampment would be left to the hosts of canines that roamed about, snarling at each other and occasionally using their sharp teeth to advantage, as if to prove their wolf blood. It was time. Cuthbert’s heart beat somewhat faster than usual as he arose to his feet, sauntered over to a spot where the shadows lay heavily, and then threw him- self again on the ground, as if to sleep, though his watchful eyes were fully alive to all that was going on around. There was nothing to indicate that he had been observed, and presently he made another move, this time slinking out of the village on the side where the corral was located. | The horse first, then his traps, the gun and food, for without Buckskin these things counted naught. cComiclooks C©