Beadle's Dime Novels No. 226: The Mustang-Hunters — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

ais ty ele eee or Tete pA eA _—_- 7 #2 o- aA = = PA ms . _ “ : - “ . = Wy a . * 20 - : > : - a THE MUSTANG-NUNTERS. .. them to keep out the Indians. Well did he remember. ihe long loop-holed wall, and the great gate, out of which he bad so lately passed in silence and dejection. “T wonder shall I ever see the hacienda again ? " he said. musingly. - “See it? In course yer will!” said Pete, stoutly. “ What's to prevent it ?” “We are going on a difficult and dangerous quest,” said Frank, sadly ; “ and we may never come back alive.” The poor fellow was desperately in love, and parting, for the first time, from the object of his affection. He felt very gloomy and despondent thereat. Old Pete perceived it, cnd laughed at his dlue fit. “ We'll come back safe enough, inside o’ six weeks, younker,” he said. “ Don't yer be gittin’ low-spirited a’ready. We ain't half started yet. One thing, we're out o’ them pesky settle- _ ments now, whar I never git without losin’ every red I've got.” _ “Ah! indeed?” said Frank, anxions to divert his thoughts from their gloomy turn. “Did you lose much this time, Pete ?” “ Much ?” echoed the hunter, with a grimace. “I was clean- ed out reg’lar, only last night, to Hamilton. I’m allers jist sich _adurned fool, when I git money, that I strike for the settle- ments to hey a spree. Only 1 month agol gota thousand dollars, good hard money, paid dogn ter me at Galveston by _ that ’ere Britisher as I was tellin’ yer on. He war a real gen- ” tleman, he war. So [ starts for Austin City ona bu’st, and I tell yous bu'st Tve hed. At last I’ lost a’most all my money at that ’ere durned monié, and I started for the prairies. I got ter Hamilton yesterday, and thar I got drunk, as usual, durn my karkidge | ! When I hain’t got likker I'm the cvtest - feller goin’, but tat fixes me. I must needs go ter playin’ poker with a lot of gamblers from Houston, and the end o _ the night found me dead broke. Nary red. That ’ere little _ uss of a Gilmore won the most of if, and he always plays fair, so I couldn't complain. And so this mornin’ I starts om na hunt, and who should I meet but you.” Caen “ Pete, tell me,” said Frank,“ who is this Little Gilmore that eee mentioned before? Yon ry that he was t ee y \é