Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

46 HURRICANE BILL cheek, And Hurricane Bill—thoughtful fellow !—rode on in advance, whistling carelessly, rarely glancing back, and when- ever he did turn his eyes in that direction, to assure himeelf that none of the Apaches were returning for revenge, Tor- nado and his double burden might as well have been in the moon for all that the tall plainsman saw. There is no getting around it, reader, Mustang Sam had “ fallén in love ”"—over head and ears—with- Isidora Munez, though he had never laid eyes upon ber, never even suspect- ed the existence of such a person, before that morning. Until then he had scoffed at the idea of any true plainsman tying himself down to a dull, humdrum life with any wo- man—as for bim, be would die as he had lived, free as air. And he meant it, too—at the time. ° But the first bright glance from Isidora’s large, lustrous eyes, sO plainly telling what she thought of the handsome, dashing cavalier of whom so many and marvelous tales had been told by such of the “ neighbors’ who had been in arms against the “ heretic invaders,” sent the hot blood coursing through his veins in a new and delightfully-embarrassing manner. And then the touch of her little hand—so soft, so caressing, almost; that drove the nail to the head— and the tragic scenes that followed, in which he had pre- served her from a captivity worse than death, clenched it firmly. Mustang Sam knew that he-was “ corraled ” at last —and he struck while the iron was bot,too. Just as he had entered into the sports of the Mexicans, just as he had plunged into the heat of the fighting, just so did the plains- man “make love.” Even while fleeing before the Apucbes, . when he felt that death was almost inevitable—that their moments of life were numbered—he had bent his head and_ pressed lis lips to hers, muttering that they could at least | die together—that such an ending would be far preferable than to live on without her. And now, on the back trail that led to her friends, Mustang Sam repeated these words. And Isidora? She answered him very simply. She raised ber head and pressed her ripe, jaicy lips to his. At that moment Mustang S»m was in the seventh heaven. Rather quick work, you say, reader? Admitted. In our cold clime, Mustang Sam would have been deemed “ impu- . , comicbooks.conn