Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

Sedan have been very kind to us, and we shall never forget lad a ES “Darn my buttons ef the gal ain’t tuk the old man at his : word. Look here, you don’t think so hard of me as that, do you? You don’t believe the old man would leave you in trouble? It ain’t his gait. Il quit you as soon as I git you Ber all safe, though, for a-lying about the old man. Come along, = you. I want you to go and help me git my canoe.” What do you want with it?” 2a -- “Some of those pesky natyves will be coming over hyar in - it some of these nights, and I don’t keer to be shot from be- eobind a bush, I don’t. Now whar’s that boat, miss ?” a _ She sprung away to get it, and soon appeared upon the shore, pening from some unknown hiding-place where the boat lay. ee? The two went down, and though she pleaded hard to go with ae them, they would not allow it. ___. “We-may have to go to places where bullets fly like “hail.” = said Austen, “and I would not risk one hair of your head for untold wealth.” ‘. a 2 _ Perdita blushed deeply and turned away, and it was after a Se that the masked chief found her asleep beneath the tree, dreaming of the gallant young captain. Bill was in a bad re _ humor, and when in that mood, did not care much into what ; he ran, but sat in the stern of the boat, glowering at -—Ausien, and thinking over the grievance of the Dutch girl, _. Katrine Vanderdonk. a) “ See here, Capt’in Larry,” he said, “do I know any Dutch | girl in Dorrup ?” | Sa should I know ?” “Didn’t you tell that little gal I did ?” “That was poetic license. They say poets can embellish | the truth, and I am a poet.” “Is ‘poic’ the English of ‘ big liar” capt’in ?” said Bill, in- Ae ~ ocently “Cause if it is, you are the biggest poic in the : D world. You be, by gravy, and I don’t keer who knows it.” ‘ edt care, Bill, we are getting close in to the shore,” ae “You ou be— the darnedest poic in the wild waste of the uni- fod arth. Stiddy ; like ez not we'll git a dozen balls through seer 9 Jand, thonghT think most of them Injins ‘ate a now.” si > sy ~~ es ay ee COMMICOO XS Oi)