ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1865 · page 11 of 100

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 85: The Fugitives — page 11: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 85: The Fugitives — page 11: Pulp Fiction, 1865

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1865. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

A BETTER HALF. 13 Gersh’s” finger pressed the trigger, and the pistol-like crack of the piece, and the death-shriek of the sayage were almost simultaneous. “T jes’ yelped so as to make you turn your head, and giv’ me a chance to take you between the eyes,” he muttered, as he coolly proceeded to reload his gun. “It’s my private opinion you won’t hunt any more poor wounded soldiers, or tomahawk any women. That chap is clear of you at least.” He struck his horse into an easy canter, and bestowed only a contemptuous glance upon the human being that had just fallen by his hand. “ Would to heaven I could only serve you all in the same manner. Youre making widows by the dozen.” This incident occasioned the old man more anxiety than any thing that had occurred since his flight. It could not be doubted that the merciless hordes of Brandt were pressing eagerly upon the settlement, but he had not believed it possi- ble that any of them could have reached this point as soon as this. He himself had come from the battle-field almost as _ fast as his horse could carry him, but he was behind this» gavage. “Tt beats all natur ’? he muttered, ‘how that Indian tray- eled so far. This is a little too close to the old cabin to suit ine,” ‘ His face showed his perplexity, and once more he put his horse to a full gallop. A short distance ahead, he turned at an abrupt angle, and riding through a sort of bridle-path, came upon a small cabin, such as are frequently constructed by the early settlers in a country. A large, bony woman, with an expression of impatience on her countenance, stood in the door holding a small child. “ Where under the sun have you been all this time, Gersh ?” “In the battle, of course.” “ Little good you did, [ll warrant. ’Pears to me you must have fout a good time.” “We did, Jerusha, but we got licked almost right away—” “And as soon as you found yourself licked, why didn’t you start home? You allers was such a fool, that you didn’t know nothin’. I don't see what you let ’em lick you for, anyway. I'll warrant you I wouldn’t if ’'d been there.” conicloooks. com