Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

22 HURRICANE BILL. “Senor,” he said, politely, “I fear your sombrero is no longer waterproof, but if a couple of onzas—” The Mexican eagerly grasped the mutilated hat, and gloated over the three round holes, declating that *he would not part with it for a hundred ounces—that he would pre- serve it forever, as a memento of the king shot of the world. “ He can shoot,” coolly replied Mustang, “ though this.was not a fair test,’ My arm trembled—I injured it while riding that bull—or yeu would have found only one hole for the three bullets.” “ Kinder easy, Mustang,’ muttered Hurricane Bill. “ But, gentiemen,” continued the scout, unbeeding his part- ner’s remonstrance, “ there is still one test that ig worth see- ing-—only it requires steadier nerves than I can boast of — the only time I tried it, I trembled a little, and a3 a natural consequence I went down with a lead pill through my body, It’s this,” and as he spoke, Mustang plucked a small, round bladed stiletto from his bosom, placing the haft against bis breast, the point cutward. “ You hold this toy, thus; he fires at it, and hits the point so exactly that the bullet is threaded upon the blade and is stopped by the guard, here. Now if there is any gentleman present who would like to as- sist my friend in performing this marvelous feat, all he—” “Marvelous indeed !” exclaimed a voice. “Did you accept, senor?’ quickly uttered Mustang, turning toward Don Blas. “'Thanks—no! I’vé not yet confessed,” quietly replicd the Mexican, showing his white teeth. | “Ah! you are afraid you. might tremble, too—well, I think it quite likely you would I? : “ Do you mean, senor, to—” “[ mean whatever you. please—can* you comprehend that?” coolly retorted Mustang Sam, bending forward. “Senor Don Blas Cavello,” sharply interposed Don Munez, his dark eye glittering. “ You forget yourself. These gen- tlemen are my guests, and as such you must regard and treat them, unless you wish to make me an enemy.” The black Mexican turned abruptly and called to one of his men, who promptly galloped out upon the plain, after snatching up a long lance from the stacked arms beside the comicbooks.conm