Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

18 HURRICANE BILL. aloft, with a loud laugh. His competitors were rapidly com- ing up, though evidently not a little surprised at the ease with which Tornado had distanced their pettanimals. They were destined to wonder still more, ere long. ~ Mastang Sam dashed round the bush, then sped swiftly at right-angles with his original course. The Mexicans turned to cut bim off, plying both spur and quirt, and some of them uttered shouts of triumph as they neared the black stallion. But Tornado wheeled in his tracks as though upon a pivot and with a dozen mighty bounds passed behind the surprised riders, and headed toward the goal. Now only two _ horse- men were before Mustang, each heading diagonally toward him. One was Don Blas; the other was Hurricane Bill. Mustang Sam did not change his course, though even the spectators could see that the others must intercept him One breathless‘smoment—then came a dull tud—a cloud of dust —a wild laugh as the figure of the Mad Rider and his mateb- less steed rose above it, cleaving the air like a swallow on the wing. py Hurricane Bill and Don Blas liud come into collision, and the smaller animal was overthrown, while Tornado, lifted by the strong hand of bis rider, lightly cleared the | struggling mass. And side by side the comrades galloped back to the stand, where Mustang silently presented the unharmed fow}] to Isidora. As she accepted the trophy, the cock lifted its crest and crowed loudly. . Don Blas Cavello, his gay attire sadly soiled; though he himself had escaped the awkward tumble unharmed, was al- most speechless with rage and martification, though he man- aged to arliculate sundry hearty curses upon the trick dlurri- cane Bill had played him. But even his own partisans laughed him down on this point, for, in ed gallo all ruses and stratagems are considered legitimate. : . “You don’t seem to like my style, stranger,” said Hurri- cane Bill, quietly, but witb a steely glitter in his blue eye that could not be mistaken. ‘“ Now I ain’t much on the talk —I'd ruther act, a durned sight—but I will say this much, You seem to think you’re some pumpkins—mebbe you be. Im only Hurricane Bill, from the Cherokee Nation—a teenty bit o a young greenhorn. But I like to give a man a sight comiclbooks.con