Beadle's Dime Novels No. 305: The Girl Scout — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

14 THE GIRL TRAILER. man is known by the kumpeny he keeps. lLookee hyar, Buck Bracer; the next time I meet ye I’m going to wear out a fathem of strong lariat on yer back. Now don’t finger yer knife but dror it like a man.” Buck Bracer dropped his hand and looked savagely at the speaker but did not utter a word. “ May I ask your name, sir?” said Foix, turning suddenly upon Jess Turner’s companion, who had not spoken but stood smiling while Jess insulted Buck Bracer. “ Certainly ; my name is Wallace Burton.” “ Wallace Burton, ¢h? Mine is Gaston Foix, and we shall have an acconnt to settle some day.” “ Any day you like; now, if convenient to you.” “No; let us put it off for a while, if you have no objec- tions. Jess Turner can tell you that 1 am not a coward, and when I promise fairly to meet you he knows that I will keep my word. One thing more, I have not forgotten or forgiven the fall you give me at Hunt's.” “Oh, go long!” said Jess Turner. “ You'd better leave the boy alone fur I tell ye he’s chain lightning pizened with brimstun.” “T am not afraid of him,” replied Foix. ‘“ Come on, Bracer, unless you want to stare at the man you dare not meet for an hour or two more.” The two men went on through the opening, and Jess Tur- ner stole after them until satisfied that they did not mean to return. Then he came back thoughtfully to the fire. “T will own that I am puzzled that you should attempt to quarrel with these men now, Jess,” said the young man. “T’ve got a reason,” responded Old Jess, grimly, “and the time ain’t fur off when IT’!l hev to wipe out that vision of Sin that calls hisself Buck Bracer. For why? Didn't he insult my little gal t’other day ’cos thar was no one nigh to help her? But, durn his hide, she hed a pistol, and the way she made him dig for high timber was just a sin.” “Your girl! I did not know you had a family.” “ Ain’t I? Ef I don’t show you the likeliest gal in Min- nesota, then I don’t know a rifle from a toothpick. She’s my gal, she is, and no darter ever loved a humbly old cuss more’n she duz ine, You needua’t ask me no questions ’bout connielaoolks.comnn