Beadle's Dime Novels No. 139: The Border Foes — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

“But I am done with you. Git out of my way !” _ Trotter attempted to push the young man from his path, Wut Wilson seized him with a grip of iron, threw him on the 4 ground, then roughly raised him to a sitting posture, and seat- ed himself in front of him. “ Are you going to stay there now, or shall I tie you ?” ask- ed Wilson, with a threatening look. “’Pears like you have broke every bone in my body,” grum- bled Trotter. “If you attempt to get away, I will break your legs, so that you can’t move.” “What do you want, stranger? Hurry up with it, now do, please,” humbly implored Trotter. “T want to tell you a little story.” “ But I don’t want to hear any story.” “You must listen to it. Perhaps it will make you feet better. You don’t appear to be in good humor, this morn- ing.” “ Tell it quick, then.” “T will tell it quick enough to please you. Once ona time —-not many years ago—a young man came to this country to settle. He was a good-hearted and well-meaning young man, who had seen a great deal of the rongh side of the world. He had lived bard, worked hard, and fought hard, but at last he was going to settle down and enjoy life in peace — and quiet. He had the one thing, above all others, that will give a man happiness in this world—a young and lovely wife. She was very beautiful, but it wasn’t her beauty that he valued most; it was her goodness; for she was like an angel sent down to live a while on earth. “Only a little while. The poor fellow’s happiness was not _ suffered to last. He was obliged to go away from his home, and he left his wife there, with a negro man and woman. _ While he was absent, a party of Indians attacked his house © at night, and burned it to the ground, after they had cruelly | igeroesed all who were within it. When he retorned, he _ found nothing but smoking ruins and dead bodies.” “That was a hard case, but I don’t see why you want Yo = me about it,” muttered Trotter.