The Argosy, Volume XXIV — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Gabriel’s Appointment. 13 Settler! as we are the whole garrison, we must visit our outposts. It will be sharp practice if they disturb us the first night; but we won’t make it easier for them than we can help.” The dog leaped up joyfully : and he took the liveliest interest in the manner in which Martin made the round of the outer fastenings, securing each with some contrivance of his own, so as to render it impossible to enter the premises, except by climbing walls or forcing fences. Having performed the same office to the doors and shutters of the house, he lighted a candle, and went through every room, satisfying himself that there was no living creature within the. walls but Settler and himself; and that anyone trying to enter would not find it an easy matter under the circumstances. How it had been entered formerly was another question. The furniture, according to agreement, had been left in the house. Mr. Bruce was to have the use of it for a year, and then take it, if he pleased, at a valuation; but all looked as rooms will look that are not inhabited—dreary, cold, uninviting—all but the dining-room, where his attentive charwoman had laid the cloth for his supper, and the kitchen, where it was keeping hot before the fire. In both of these the elements of comfort were to be found; but Martin was not yet ready to cultivate them. The doctor’s sad story ran in his mind, and so did the solution of the problem which had occurred to him when he heard it first—that there must have been some secret passage by which the entrance had been made the result of which was so cruel. His tool-chest was in the hall, ready for action; and, exchanging his gun for a hammer, he went about the passages, testing every doubtful spot, and keenly listening for anything like a hollow sound— but to no purpose. The enigma was not to be guessed so easily, and he abandoned the attempt for the present, proceeding with Settler into the kitchen, to fetch the supper; which they discussed together, to their mutual satisfaction. Over his evening pipe, the hunter revolved his plans for the next day, and then opened one of the volumes with which David Forrest had half filled his portmanteau ; being just as indifferent to the question as to whether any attempt to shake his nerves would be made that night, as Settler was to the contents of his book. A couple of hours passed ; and Settler, who had given up all idea of any more fun before bedtime, had enjoyed a luxurious nap after his good supper—dreaming of happy hunting-grounds, where birds and rabbits almost asked to be caught—when the dog suddenly became aware, in some mysterious fashion, that all was not right. He lifted his nose from his feathery paws, pricked up his ears, and looked at his master. The book was open on the table, but the reader had sunk back asleep. Settler rose slowly, smelt, and listened—couldn’t tell what to make of it, but was sure there was something. He poked his nose into Martin’s hand. The hunter was roused in a moment. comicbooks.com