Beadle's Dime Novels No. 142: The Sagamore of Saco — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

THE INNKZEPER. 43° of fiery liquid, which sometimes brought more wretched Indians about the place than was agreeable or pleasant. he platform, when the bridge was crossed, circled round the house on the side of the pool, which it towered over by some thirty feet—a steep and rocky des- eent of great difficulty, and which never would have been attempted in the fuce of a resolate enemhy. It was, however, here that water was drawn up by a bucket, which Lung over the part where the pool was shallow, and showed the gold- en sand at the bottom bright and sparkling. On the evening of the day be- fore Amy Moss fell into the hands of the ruthless gang of Shawnees . itis that we introduce this place to the notice of our readers. It was a pleasant evening, and the pe of sunset fell with deep low on the mossy walls of the nn, and illumined the face of a fame oon oe one ee mien upon the plain below. She was about nineteen—a tall, hand- some girl, of rather bold and de- mig cided mien, as if accustomed to rude life and the companionship of rough men, especiglily those who frequent inns and grow bois- terous, maudlin, or ferocious over the demon drink, which, let a man’s prejudices be what they may, is an awful master to get “iad ecu si t, Sparking eyes and white teeth, which she was rather fond wee = sag ; and she wore a bodice a Swiss gir and short woollen petticoats, red stoc ; the whole neat and jaunty fascinating—a little wel, in fact, of a Dutch picture. er eter will better appear from our narrative than from any description. “Father,” said she, suddenly, in a cold vo as of one who bexore, b ** Who on airth is it?” replied « thick voice from within. ‘Well, I don’t know; I think it’s Ezram Cook, the peddler-mer- chant.”’ ‘* My!” said the other, comi out and shading his eyes with hia hands, to catch the figure of the a: is eye fell first on the deep foliage of the forest, which could be seen mellowing away into the far distance, golden and sparkling beneath the setting sun; then it came down to where the trunks and roots of the trees were leftin deep shade; and then it settled upon the figure of & man moving along steadily on a horse with a small pack. ‘* Well, it is Ezram Cook, I do declayre; he’s been up selling and collecting in his money, I expect. Martha! thar’s one with a mighty good craw coming to supper. So you're a-looking out for him, are you? ,He won't come here to- ht. was said in a half-sneering, half-anxious tone, as if the speaker hardly knew how the tener ht take it. He was short, thick-set, and powerful in make, but ae in him was un- gainly. He wore a dog-skin ca close over his low forehead, whic formed a perfect pent-house over little round gray goggle eyes, that were forever moving restlessly about, as if afraid each instant of Indians, or constables, or some- thing terrible—he could hardly, perhaps, say what. He wore a thick beard over chin, face and upper lip, so that little could be detected of expression, save where his thin li closed over his pro- jecting teeth, e a savage and brutal ners Ho strike all olders. He er eat loose blanket coat, owsers,and h heavy eontending with >»; and his name n. He had once Scowl Hall, years ut, -dvicctcd in a Weil, : commilclooolks.conn i.