Beadle's Dime Novels No. 37: Godbold, the Spy — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

: 20 @{DEON GODBOLD. bekase she hobbled and w’ined and pretended to be very old, and s-nt me off. I see’d the wretch try to get my gun, and that uct o’ honor to leave the rifle saved your life; but I knowed by your cloth that you’d be true to your word. You hhadn’t gone ten steps in the ’ood afore I had my gun, nor ten more afore I was jist behind you. Then the old woman cuughed. You thought she was bad; but she wanted her pals to hear her, and in course she didn’t get better till she heard their signal. I see’d youslip off your horse. I thought r that you were gettin’ kinder suspicious, but you warn’t. [ — see’d a feller slip behind your horse. He thought you were on him, and leveled a bludgeon at your head. I would ha’ felled him for this, but your roan did it better. ‘When ‘mur- der’ was cried, his pals all thought ’twas you, and runned to finish you, and the guide was one o’ the party. In the dark I dealt two on ’em stunnin’ blows on their heads, and would ha’ served the others the same but they were suspicious ang got away. I then got round to you, when you heard the . second cry. That was when the fellers got better, and then they started after you, and in course, as I see you here, they couldn’t catch you.” “But I have had a yet narrower escape,” said Horace ; “ but perhaps you are more capable of explaining that than I am.” “Well, well,” said the stranger, “I guess I'll tell you that. Arter you’d mounted your hoss and left me, I repented—as you do now that you ever sent me off,” said he, significantly. “I thought I'd exposed you to too much danger. So, as [ knowed the crankling ways of the path, and how it might lead you right in them villains’ faces, I follered you at 9 shorter cut. I see’d the rascals, and I heard you a comin’ on. I heard them agree to shoot you as you passed the corner; but you reined in.» I took up the running. They took me for a hoss—fired whilst I had slipped into the bush, I had groaned like a dying man and moaned like a hoss= ewe have to pretend to be all animals in the forest—I whispered in your ear to ride for your life, and jist as them scoundrels ce Er eet tns vee and their prey was gone, and what will t Pees to-morrow when they see no blood.” Horace was deeply affected “ab the disinterested services CORE OO KSaCOKn %