ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1870 · page 14 of 98

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 14: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 14: Pulp Fiction, 1870

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1870. 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.

ater Se THE WHITE HERMIT. “Rayther hasty, I allow. Waal, ain’t we a-goin’ to eat nothin’ to-day ?” “Eat! Do you want to eat again? Where does all your food go ?” “That’s an open question. I'm hungry ag’in. I seem to be hungry all the time. Jest wait a bit.” 5 . CHAPTER II. FOUR TO ONE. Hunery Bri took tip his haversack, which, luckily for him, had been lying on the grouné during his controversy with | the captain, and unclasping the buckle drew out an immense piece of bacon and a piece of corn bread, of corresponding size. Then, sitting upon a log, with the bread in one hand and the bacon in the other, he began to eat in a manner which spoké well for his gastronomic powers, but would have carried deso- -_ Jation into the soul of the man who was forced to feed lim. _ _The captain looked on with a smile, and Bill watched him - ina half apologetic way as he took a large, semicircular bite out of the bacon, with his head very much on one side. 4 Our captain looked on in silent admiration, until repletion took place, and Hungry Bill, hungry no more for the present, buckled ap his haversack and slung it over his shoulder. The eiptain picked up his rifle, slipped a buck-skin sheath over the Jick to keep it dry, and signaled to his companion to lead i» wy, which he did at the long lope peculiar to the Indian ¢ {to the white man who passes his life in the woods. . The }) lug than was moody, for he was thinking of the lady he tet met, and-her strange place of residence. Their coursz ! jel them beside the lake, hidden at times from their view by - somé. projecting headland, and again shining like silver through the leaves. A strange sound disturbed the stillness _ vil at once, and Bill Epps paused, holding up his hand as a . # signal to his companion. What was the scund? A tinkle 2 of steel and a hurried tramp of feet in a little glen a few icomicbooks: com) = al + a ey