Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

and consequent exhaustion. As night came on and the wind 3 = oe to lull, the guide began to show signs of uneasiness. _ He had fits of nervousness, and was continually going out to _ Jook at the sky and see that the Indians were not yet upon their. Aen way to assail them. Knowing something of the determined character of the masked chief, he was certain that he bad not been idle during these three days, and had by this time formed ‘some means to reach the island. And he was right. During the first day of the storm the masked chief had Jain concealed under an overhanging rock, safe from the fall- ing branches and wliere the flames could not reach him, <« cursing the unlucky fortune which had brought the storm at gach an inopportune moment.- The man was ill at ease, for = he had seen the girl sink down when he aimed the rifle at — _ Austen, and knew that he had hit her. Was she dead? Had = we his hand the guilt of that innocent blood? He sliuddered and Sree ‘ked impatiently at the mask which covered his face. in lying there be was joined by the halfbreed mentioned “as 23 ee Hungry Bill as being with him. This man’s character ; urnished little which was interesting. . He was simply a ; pod-thirsty, mercenary wretch, a good tool in the hands of 4 Ze unscrupulous man, but nothing more, and we have given eS mo prominence in the story. His name was Louis Ger- a ie among the French, and lie was called “ La Loup” by the : ey sees = This sinister companion took a seat under the rock, a litile | f = way from the mask, looking at him in a covert way. . er “Haye you given up the chase, mon ami?” he said, “i Fe a= ly. a, the devil with you, Gerard! Do you come here to © a over me, to make sport of my misfortunes? Life of my ody, man, you will not be well received among the St. Regis you return, and tell them that we have not even * telbegt back a single scalp.” ay “Iam not the leader,” said the half-breed, quietly. “ Bah, y in so many words that you have given up 63 task, and ’ Bs wep oe Sag ea =e fil! you know that I have not given tip, de Sal eS : opal nat ctee Reccernss medi pete be the MN — ae