Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

20 HURRICANE BILL. condition of his revolvers. Satisfied that they were in their usual good order, he listened, with what grace he could sum- mon, to nneteaa Sam’s long-winded peroration. “ What d’ y’ want to try fust ?” that worthy detanded: a8 he rejoined Hurricane Bill. “ Splits or tossups, 1 don’t keer which ; then we kin try it, on hossback,” was the brief reply. Without more ado, the borderers walked up to the corral, and Mustang Sam stood with his back against the huge square post upon one side of the gate. Drawing a long-bladed bowie-knife, he. held it firmly with the haft resting upon his head, the keen edge in front. After a critical glance, Hurri- cane Bill drew his revolver, cocked it and strode swiftly away. At the twentieth pace, he abruptly wheeled and his _ arm arose, clasping the dark-tubed weapon. A pause scarce long enough for the wondering Mexicans | to draw a single breath—then came the clear, ringing report. Without lowering his hand, Hurricane Bill recocked the weapon and fired again and again until the six-chambered cylinder was empty. Then, as though he had no further in- terest in the matter, he began dextrously but carefully recharg- ing his revolver. | ‘Gentlemen /” cried Mustang Sam, for the moment forget- ling his Spanish, »s he lowered the bowie-knife. “ Hyar you've got the great American pinny- pinny-poppy-show whar kin be see’d the high-cock-alorum, Senor Don Ballet Splitter, logether with the wild and untamed and onequaled ring- tailed bedbug, which is me!” ) Though not understanding much of the hunter's rigmarole, the Mexicans crowded around the-post, and then broke into excited exclaumations of wonder and awe. The revolver bul- Jets had been fairly split in half against the edge of tbe bowie- knife, and the portions could now be seen, just imbedded in the wood sufficiently to keep them from falling to the ground. “Don’t act the monkey, Mustang,” snapped Hurricane, im- patiently. .“ They're lookin’ at ye, man!’ As Sam turned, he cuught the bright glance of Isidora’s eyes, and it was laughable to note how quickly he subsided from the vaunting position he bad taken. Glancing along the sandy level, he hastily picked up accuple of small ubjects, comicbooks.conm