Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

THE WHITE HERMIT. ; already i in the boat, and saw that his border friend was strug- gling in the grasp of two stalwart Indians. In this time ot . Soa Bill showed the natural heroism of his nature. His foot was on the gunwale, when he was seized, and putting forth all his strength, he gave the boat a vigorous shove, which sent it a dozen feet from the shore. Just then the moon struggled from behind a cloud and shed a mellow light upon the scene. Bill, pinioned by both arms, yet struggled fiercely, and the - Captain turned back to his aid. “ Keep off there!’ he shouted. “ Wha-at? Do you want to be taken, and leave the lettle gal alone? Let the old man take care of himself. “You came to my aid. Shall I leave you in peril ?” shout- ed Austen, __ “ You durned brute, kan’t you help me more with your hands free than you can with ’em tied? Let up, you painted rep- _ tyle! What do you want to choke a man fur? Sheer off, _ ¢aptin. You kan’t help me now, but jest trust the old man. _ He ain’t liable to stay long with his hands tied.” “He gives good counsel in his singleness of heart,” said “Marstowe. “ Push off a little, or we may get a flight of ar- _Tows.” They pushed off a few rods from the shore, and lay there, _ while a confused struggle and trampling on the sand told that —s &: Nad ™ ' ga ‘sb 3 ie 7 ‘ ben ¥ : ‘ | yee -. a My oa - <4 To “. gry cries were heard, and at last the whole party went down in a confused mass, from the midst of which, to their great delight, a single man arose and struggled free from the rest, and ran up the beach at full speed. In some way or other’ ‘the guide had managed to throw off the hands which held him, and was off like the wind. A wild chorus of savage erie sounded, and the Indians trooped off up the sand, fol- _ lowing close upon the track of the flying guide, who ran like a deer. Indeed, it was well known all along the border that "Hungry Bill had beaten the best runners of the Onondaga and _ Mohawk nations, including the. noted Fleetwing, in a race for oe, a cup at Oswego. The men in pursuit were good ranners#o0, -_ one of them fully equal to Bill, and this man, holding his >. atchet ready for a blow, was within six feet of him, straining eve ry nerve to get within striking distance. Grasping his coms P ihe . _ on 2¢°F . s. ‘ ye : a —— — Pp — ee nae Re Re ee ee ee oe kad nt a end _ the active guide was giving them a great deal of trouble. An-- - Regnuebeoks- com, to