Beadle's Dime Novels No. 38: The Wrong Man — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

SURMISES AND CONJECTURES 77 “soirees ” to attend, nor “the last new novel” to read, were already snug in their beds. The news, however, spiead 1apidiy fom one to another, and in an incredibly short. time tere was perhaps not a man, woman or child in the town who had not heard the story, and aided in swelling the nusnber of con- jectures which the circumstance gave rise to. The bar-room of the tavern, to which the body haa been conveyed, presented a singular group, drawn together by a common impulse of curiosity. For some moments no voice broke the silence, every mind being impressed witn those yague yet powerful sensations of awe which the sight of death —especially sudden and violent death—never fasts to occasion. As they gazed on the pale, cold, distorted fave of Overton, whom most of the assemblage had seen within a few days in the pride of health and strength, the suddenness of the catas- trophe by which he had been cut off created « general feeling of commiseration among the spectators. In some minds this feeling almost assumed the higher character of respect for the individual—a sentiment never entertained for him during life. Strange and variable is the mind of man! The most of those who now looked on the body of the lawless hunter had prob- ably anticipated some such termination to his cageer, and had thought, perhaps, that they should scarcely be sorry if their anticipations were realized. But the event produced different fee’ings. Murmurs of regret for his fate soon swelled into denunciations against his murderer. They who at first only ventured half-whispered surmises, gathering confidence from each other, soon grew loud in their tone, and bandied con- jectures back and forth, with a freedom of speech, which, however much it might show regard for the dead, at least evinced but little respect for the characters of certain living. ir allusions and innuendoes were so broad that it was easy see which way the current of suspicion was setting. “Oh, no doubt of it,” said a lazy, fat-cheeked, beetle-browed man, in reply to something which a small, thin, sharp-nosed person, in a faded suit of black, had raised himself upon tip- toe to whisper in his ear—“no doubt of it at all, Mr. Ferule. Dodge, the peddler, met him in full chase, and hard on the heels of poor Ned; and that was only a few hours ago, just in the edge of the evening. No doubt of it in my mind.” comcbdooks.com