Old Shadow Shot — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

— What if the ranger should lose his life among the outlaws? Then, indeed, would he be friendless in the forest, and certain to fall into the unfeeling hands of Captain Rough. The thought made him shudder. It sent a thrill of terror to his heart. = _ “ Shadow-Shot could make the captain tell why he brought me into these woods. If he falls to-night what shall I do?” A moment’s pause, and the hidden boy said, firmly : | “What shall Ido? Why, Ill make him tell myself! That's what I'll do!” Thirty minutes on leaden wings. passed over the head of Nightingale Nat. The silence that followed Shadow-Shot’s departure seemed to be the calm before the storm. When there came to the tree the sound of a footstep in the forest, Nat started joy- fully, and ejaculated the cognomen of his protector. Pit-a-pat went the feet of the unseen, until the youthful eyes caught sight of a figure moying among the trees. “Here I am!” At the sound of the boy’s voice the person stopped, and an ejaculation of _ success saluted Nat’s ears. It was a harsh voice, so different from Shadow-Shot’s, that he shrank from the aperture white as ashes. He had betrayed his presence to a foe! As he hugged the wall of the tree furthest from the opening, the boy fondly hoped that he had not revealed his exact whereabouts to the man in the forest. But, alas! straight to the tree, as 1f guided by the boy’s own hand, came the treacherous footsteps. Nightingale Nat held his breath, and kept his eyes fixed upon a star which glittered far beyond the boughs of the tree. All at once a heavy pall seemed to blot the planet from his sight. The man without was at the opening. “Qh, I’ve found you!” he said, throwing a voice full of the fiendishness of outlawry into the tree. Nightingale Nat did not reply; but his heart seemed to cease throbbing in his breast. ~The man without was Zimri Paddock, one of Captain Rough’s men, and a person who hated the boy of the train. Tt will be recollected that this man de- livered Captain Rough’s orders which put an end to Nat’s song just before the charge of the forest demons. What! fall into the hands of such a man as Zimri Paddock, whose every instinct was of the most brutish kind—a man who would not hesitate to take human life for gain or ~~ revenge! - UNDECEIVED, 7 “You sang us into a pretty mess, didn’t you?” said Paddock, coarsely ; “we was get- tin’ along peacefully. Confiscate your bird- throat! Tm goin’ to slit it, and let all the music out for ever!” That awful threat, accompanied by the tigerish glare of the two eyes that regarded him, made Nightingale Nat resolye not to fall into the yillain’s hands. He could not raise his rifle to his shoulder; the hollow in which he was en- scenced would not admit of this; but he could thrust the muzzle towards the aper- ture and fire. This he did! A loud ery followed the report, and when the smoke cleared away Nat saw the far-off Star again. Zimri Paddock was gone, and the boy hoped that the bullet had crashed through his brain! But this triumph was of short duration. A wild cry, joined to a savage oath, startled the boy, and the hole became dark again, The next moment he felt himself grasped rudely by the shoulder, from which the hand almost instantly shot to his throat. “Not dead yet, my Nightingale!” hissed Paddock. “I’m bleedin’ like a stuck deer, but Vl finish you afore I go.” The white-faced boy resisted with all his strength ; but the hand of a maddened giant was at his throat, and he was dragged from the tree. “Thought\you hed killed Zim Paddock, eh?” laughed the brute. “Oh, my leeile one, as that old chap called you, I'll let the music out o your heart! Jl cut your plumage, my nightingale!” — | The boy had ceased to offer resistance, for the vice-like grip of the scoundrel’s hand was fast depriving him of sensibility. CHAPTER IV. UNDECEIVED. W°* have seen with what regret Cap- y/ tain Dave permitted Rafe Arm- strong to desert the outlaw band, while—on its march to attack the train, lumbering slowly through the woods. On any other occasion he would have added another crime to the list already long, for he would have rid himself of the querulous man with the pistol or the knife. But at the place where desertion took -place, neither of those agents of death would do; the former would make a loud report, and a death-cry might follow a blow from the latter. . Therefore he did the next best thing that So(EO) LX = ‘GoM (| 0)(e)(@) : cae oe - S