Beadle's Dime Novels No. 35: East and West — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

20 ‘THE BEAUTY OF WILLARD’S MILL. “Nun to be afeard of. Jist keep along this track till yer cum to the main road agin, and yer'll be all right.” “Thank you; here is something for your trouble, and I think you will be a fine man one of these days.” “oTwan'’t no trouble,” answered Ike, pocketing the silver with boyish eagerness; then, nodding his tow-head hastily and bashfully, he set his slinn bare feet into a run toward home. “ Eureka!” cried our traveler, five minutes later, as she emerged into tHe traveled road, and was doubly assured of being at last right by seeing two wagons loaded with lumber coming from the direction she was taking. “ There is some- thing from Willard’s Mill—some of the raw materia? out of which squatters make cabins, and one of the Willards coins gold. Do your prettiest, now, Rosy, for I don’t want to hear any smart speeches from those wagoners.” The drivers of the heavily-loaded wagons were quiet men enough, and politely turned their teams a little out of the road as the dashing rider sped past them.at a full gallop. If Constance felt sure they looked after her, she did not turn ber head for confirmation, but kept on at so rapid a pace that she could soon descry what she took ‘to be her uncle's mill. And now her thoughts began to take shape concerning the relatives she was secking. What were her cousins like ?— brought up in this interminable prairie, with such people as the woman she had just parted from as their only neighbors, very likely. How did they live? She strained her eyes to make out the house, and her heart failed when she could only see the log-hut already familiar to the reader. Could it be possible they lived in that ?—oh, no! doubtless that was the stable, and the house was further off. Yet there was no dwelling to be seen for a mile beyond, and the prairie could not conceal any thing taller than its own forest of grass. She began to regret having sought these friends, and to doubt if habits so different as theirs could make pleasant the associa- tion. In the mean time, what had become of Fletcher Harris ? He, too, was to have his adventure. Mounting his horse, and riding on briskly after his fair predecessor, expecting every instant to come in sight of her, and wondering why she did commiclooks.corn