Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

42 HURRICANE BILL. “ We owe you our lives—I and my child!” “Thar—don’t say no more. I wasn’t workin’ fer nothin’. I reckon you'll hev to pay me a big price fer what I’ve did, when we git through all right,” interrupted Hurricane, “Tm ricli—I will give you half of all I am worth—” ‘“T wasn’t speakin’ of money, old man—but thar. Let it drop fer now, Jump up abind me. We'll hev to ride right peert to ketch up wi’ Mustang, I reckon.” “Not much you won’l, pard,” called out a cheery voice from directly in front. “I heard you burnin’ powder, an’f wanted a band in. The lady byar beggéd me not to leave her father, so back I comes—jest in time to be too late.” “Twas a fool trick, pard—you'd orter be a long weys from hyar by now,” reproachfully said Bill. “The varmints is whipped. What difference?” Now we kin take our ease. Even s’posin’ them varmints do try to fol- ler us; a bloodhound couldn’t sca’cely keep a trail over these rocks, An’ by day we'll be fur enough abead o’ them.” “T ain’t so sure. They’ve got thar ebenezer up powerful, Y il try hard to git equa, They know the Jay o’ the pice d better’n we do, an’ fust thing we know mebbe we'll run kersplunt into a ambush.” — “No danger, pard; ’cause why. They ain’t agoin’ to fol- ler the trail we take. They’d see a devil or a spook in every rock an’ bush. They wouldn’t foller us ef we was out in plain sight. You fergit the How Land, Hurricane,” chuckled Mustang Sam. “You're right, pard—as you al’ays air—I did fergit it. I reckon we've got the drop on ’em dis time! But,” and Hur- ricane hesitated. ‘“ But bow’ll they like it ?” ° : “ My friends,” said Don Munez, “we are wholly in your hands. Take whatever course you think best, and we will be content. We passed through the Evil Land once un- harmed; why should we fear to do it again?” | No ior’ was said. The party rode steadily forward, and long before the sun tinged the eastern sky with gold, they were threading the mazes of the far-famed Mai Pais, comicbooks.com