Beadle's Dime Novels No. 310: Foghorn Phil — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

34 FOGHORN PHIL. would doubtless provoke a shower of calumny down upon his head, and so, for the time being, he dismissed the matter from his mind, deciding at once upon another course of action. — The three scouts at once returned with the wounded cap’ tain to the flat-boat, and every thing within the power of thé crew was done to alleviate the man’s suffering. And none were more devoted in their assiduities than was Colone! Aylesworth, who had by this time so far recovered from his shock us to be enabled to be on his feet. When the captain did begin to revive, his recovery wad quite rapid, and to the happy surprise of all, he was soon on his feet, directing the movements ofthe party, and discussing the subject of the late narrow eseape of himself and the col onel. The statement of his position, and that of the Indiau in the thicket, at the time of being wounded, accorded ex- actly with the supposition of Foghorn Phil. He had en- sconced himself in the thicket to await the coming of the boat fo get aboard, unaware of there being a savage in the bushes _ within ten feet of him, until the wily foe had fired the almost fatal shot at the colonel. Then, before he could fully recover from his consternation, came the rattling volley from the flat- buat, and he was stritken down by the bullets of his friends. The captain’s story was listened to in breathless silence, and when he had concluded, a shout of joy went up from the lips of the crew. Then the two wounded men were Congratu-— lated upon their miraculous escapes, when the joke turned on Foghorn Phil and Jake Du Busk, for having permitted the “dead ” Indian to escape with his hair and the captain’s rifle. — The scouts, however, took the matter coolly, and so, for a while, all dangers were forgotten. At length the boat swept around an abrupt bend in the river, and the little island for which they were aiming, ap- peared in sight but a few rods in advance. This island, as Foghorn Phil had stated, was but a day old. The mad, swift waters, rushing around the bend of the river above, had car- ried the current in against the bank below; and this bank, all at once having yielded to the strong force rushing against it, had been dug away and eaten into, as it were, by the wa- ter, which, in a single day, broke across the base of a little \ commicbooks.con