Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 243: what you’re looking at

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

The Raid on the Bad Lands. 231 their mounts; for the animals could secure enough food, and there was only a remote chance of their being discovered by some stroller from the village. There was now no necessity for their remaining in the open to accept a wetting when the rain came; even such toughened characters as cowboys, if given a choice, prefer a dry jacket. “Cave. Ha, good!” whispered the Indian, pat- ting his dusky body. Me ’member. Me take you. Not far. Wait there—to-morrow night we come ’gain. Then—ugh!” “Well, then,” cried Karl, joyfully, “if this cave’s around, by all means i But already the Indian was leading the way to the underground retreat, and Karl had his work cut out to follow his long-legged companion. It was already sprinkling, with a promise of a more serious downfall shortly, so that the tramp to the cave was lively enough. Karl had spent many a night in shack and dugout, so that this prospect was not of a nature to give him the least concern—indeed, too many times had he lain with only a blanket as protection against a pelting rain, so that shelter of any sort was a bo- nanza in his eyes. At last the young brave drew Karl into what seemed a crack or fissure in the rocky wall. It was none too soon, as the big drops had in- creased, and now came down with a merry tune that pleased Karl better because he could laugh at its fu- tile efforts to reach them. Little Buckshot had stooped down. “Hole small—have to crawl, Karl—but we find um big lodge, you see.” And Karl kept after him, quite satisfied that in meeting the Indian he had struck the best bit of luck imaginable. Sure enough, the crooked passage did grow cComiclooks C©