Beadle's Dime Novels No. 305: The Girl Scout — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

28 THE GIRL TRAILER. The lookers-on, rough bordermen for the most part, who had gathered eagerly at the chance of a fight, shook their heads solemnly. To them it seemed almost a crime to refuse to fight a duel, and they began to lose confidence in Wallace Burton. . “ My friends,” he cried, turning to them, “I see by your faces that you do not like it that I refuse to fight. My father, as brave a man as ever trod the earth, was killed in a duel, aud I promised my mother on her death-bed never to fight a duel or take the life of any man except in fair combat, to save my own life or that of another, For this reason I can not accept a challenge to fight.” “No insult will move you, then?” cried Gaston Foix. “ Draw your weapon and fight, or I will shoot you like a dog,” de had drawn his revolver and leveled it at the breast of Wallace Burton, who folded his arms and looked him steadi- ly in the eye without moving a muscle of his firm young face. Half a dozen weapons were drawn instantly, while Wallace, without speasing, seemed to defy his enemy to fire. There are few men who can look into the eye of an. undaunted man and fire at him, and Gaston Foix trembled and stood irresolute. At this moment a stalwart trapper known as Big Ben, stepped before the leveled pistol, holding one equally ready in his hand. “T ain't got no conscientious scrooples on the subjec’ of fightin’,” he said, quietly. “ Begin shootin’! This young. man has given a fair excuse, and ef you want satisfaction take it out like a man with natur’s weepons. You're as big as he is.” “ Who told you to interfere, Ben Slawson ?” cried Gaston, “ This is not your Aghi: “IT make it mine,” Was the ‘answer, “T Benjamin Slaw. son, trapper, fur-lunter, etcetera, meander in with my shooter: in my fist. Begin shootin’, ef yer ewits ter.” “T have no fight with sere Ben. “So I parceive,” replied Ben, with a grin; “ thar ain’t menny wanderin’ varmints on this pieceful sod that bankers arter me. But Gassy, my boy, I'd like a leetle skrimmage with you, ef it ar convenient, [’d ruther fight than not COMICOOKS.COMs