Beadle's Dime Novels No. 153: Mohawk Nat — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

“> e A HOME THRUST. 47 our side. You couldn’t have named one I knew better. for a murderin’ skunk.” “Sacre!” sputtered Le Renard. .“ Do you dare to speak in that mannertome?”” i, “ Wa'al, old man,” said Nat, expectorating freely before he spoke, “ what’s the use of lyin’? I tell you the people cry out agin’ ye through all York. An’ why shouldn’t they? A man with your gifts, goin’ contrary to em as you do, don’t desarve that any man should speals well of him. You was brought up in a Christian land, they say. I don’t allow it, mind, ‘cause, in my opinion, men ain’t Christians that act in the way you do. Christians! Any thing but that; acussed half-an’-half: a mixture of the blood of the red, painted hea- then of the woods an’ the hot blood of the French, Oh,I know the blood you sprung from, Mister Fox.” An unnatural paleness showed itself about the thin lips of the Frenchman. His eyes fairly blazed. He made a sudden bound and grasped the scout by the throat. But Nat never flinched, and stood looking his enemy coolly in the face. He knew well that, upon this point, the Frenchman was peculi- arly sensitive and that any mention of the fact would arouse his anger. He was in truth of mixed blood. Many of the partisans who did the cruel work of the French on the border during this war, owed, it is assumed by Frencly historians, their ferocity to this fact. Any thing to relieve the French nation from the execrable reputation which attaches to the deeds of choke your life out ?” : : “T don’t mind, if you kin do it,” replied Nat. “Ima pris’ner. But don’t let that stop you. It’s asmall thing when you git used to it, to take the life of a man that kain’t help himself. Its no more than I mout expect.” “ You deserve to die.” « All on us desarve that, more or Jess,” replied the imper- turbable ranger. “I hope you don’t think I kin die.until my time comes; an’ when it does, I think I'll be as ready to meet my fate as you, I won't show the white feather, I promise ou.” " a. 34-, 23 cts : ‘The hand of Le Renard dropped from the throat of the comniclooks.Gonn