Beadle's Dime Novels No. 305: The Girl Scout — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

12 THE GIRL TRAILER. sailed by the woodman’s ax. The three men set to work and in-an hour or two had built a very creditable bush shanty, something which would do very well until they were able to put up a better. This done, and leaving the Indian in the hut, Gaston Foix and Bracer started for the litle set- flement, not more than five miles distant. Passing through the woods they came to a little circular opening, in the midst of which a fire was blizing and two hunters had made a camp. “ Hold on,” said Gaston Foix, drawing a deep execration through his set teeth. “TIl be cussed if that is not the young man who threw me.” “And there is old Jessie Turner, too,” said Bracer. “TI don’t keer to meet him jest now ’cause he hurt my feelings the last we met.” * How ?” “He called me a durned thief !” “Did he carry the enormity so far as to prove it?” said Gaston, quietly. ‘“ Come, old fellow; you know well that your Character is not much above par in this section.” “Tl git even with old Jess Turner, yet,” growled Bracer. “No better time than the present, for I am aching to get a shot at that fellow with him, and I'll leave Jess to you.” “T ain't heeled just now,” said Bracer. “If I was I’d mount him like the besum of destruction. I'd rip his intrails out, so to speak.” “You are little better than a coward, my good friend,” said Gaston. “I wish I had brought Wolf with me and then I should bave a backer. Come on.” He strode out inte the opening, and the two men at the fire looked up and grasped their rifles. They did not re- linquish them when they saw the ill-omened pair, but rose quickly, each with his finger on the trigger. | ‘Keep yer seat—keep yer seat,” said Braueer, who did not like these hostile Gemonstrations. “ We ain’t on the fight, Jess.” “T orter lam ye in the jaw!” replied the hunter he called Jess. “Vd-orter knock ye all full of little holes, you son of a skunk.” COMMENOOKS. Com