ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1860 · page 66 of 108

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 13 — page 66: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 13 — page 66: Pulp Fiction, 1860

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1860. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

» 68 CEDAR SWAMI; OR, WILD NAT’S BRIGADE which ty abduct Catherine, was not doubte¢é—the conversation between Fagan and “ Harry” had set him on the trail; and the point now was to find out of what house they had been speaking. He did not anticipate much difficulty in doing that; and when once he lit upon the spot, Vale thought* it would. go hard with him if he could not, by hook or crook, | manage to discover if Catherine was there hidden, and to rescue her from the clutches of the ruffians who had abducted her. The hours passed slowly, until it came to ten o'clock, John — was earnestly considering about the best means of leaving his corner, crossing the"Foom, and making his exit from the Oppo- site door without running against any one who might chance to take advantage of his seeming simplicity to annoy him, Though in a good humor, the crowd seemed to be well prim- ed with liquor, and it would take but little to involve the Whole roomful in a general row. After half rising to his feet, he sank back again into his seat. Words of altercation at.” tracted his attention, A big, rough-looking man was saying something in an angry tone to some one concealed from the eyes of Vale by the crowd. Curiosity impelled the young man to take his stand upon a bench in order that he might get a glimpse of the man who was being berated. What was his surprise to recognize the cat-like countenance of Timothy Turner. That worthy did not seem in the least troubled by the invectives hurled against him, but waited quietly until the large man had concluded. Then raising his hand and making a peculiar sign with his forefinger, he remarked : ‘i “ Keep cool, Bob Wynstay. If I shoved against your sore arm, you ought to be thankful I don’t tell how it go, hurt.” The sign which the tory made seemed to have a remarkably sedative effect upon the big man, and he only answered : “What the do you run against a fellow that Way for ? Aren’t-it bad enough to have a broken arm, without having it punched by every one that chooses to elbow me about 9” “A man with a broken arm ought to keep out of 2 crowd, and then-he wouldn't get it hurt,” responded Turner. The crowd made way for him—he seemed to be well known to those around him—and Turner passed on, casting a quick glance around him, For an instant his eye rested on John ~ comiclooks.conn