Beadle's Dime Novels No. 38: The Wrong Man — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

RCHEMING FOR REVENGE. “19 ernamenting his staff, as he tradged whistling along toward the distant village, which lay in the opposite direction. The hunter, in the mean while, had reached the summit of © the bluff, when, crossing a road that wound along its brow, — he plunged into the wood on the opposite side, and strode for- ward at a rapid pace. The mellow notes of the brilliant red- bird were heard in the top branches of the forest, and flocks of mocking-birds, disturbed by the rustling of the leaves be- neath his feet, displayed their blue plumage in the sunbeams as they flitted screaming from tree to tree. These sights and sounds, however, were not heeded by the irritated hunter Low mutterings partly betrayed the workings of his mind, as he hurried along with that peculiar trotting gait which marks ag well the white inhabitant as the native Indian of our forests. _ His countenance wore a mixed expression of anger and dissat- isfaction, as if he blamed himself for the course he had pur- sued. “ Curses on that Yankee,” he muttered, clinching his fists and gnashing his teeth as he spoke. “ That isn’t the first time he has crossed my path, but it’s the last time.” He walked rapidly some distance in silence, but soon broke out again : “T was an outrageous fool to shéw my madness afore that Dudley. Fm afraid it will look bad for me and Hugh, when we come to settle up that litle business we have on and, Let me think a thinute.” - He leaned up against a tree as he spoke, and for some time seemed occupied in deep thought. That his meditation was not pleasant, was manifest from the deep scowl that remained upon his countenance, However, after he had stood thus many minutes, a different expression lit up his face—an expres- sion of exulting triumph, as though he had decided upon some scheme that should insure a balm for his wounded feelings. “I can Jet that peddler pass for the present,” said he, speak- ing more coolly now that the heat of his passion had passed. “T have more important matters on hand and can’t afford to stop for trifles. What the mischief is that?’ asked the hunter with an expression of curiosity, stretching his neck and porting at seme chject-achort. diatamenraatape: The more he looked the more he seemed puzzled. Eomichbooks.com