Beadle's Dime Novels No. 85: The Fugitives — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

THR FRATRIOCIDE. 41 Reaching the top, he carefully peered over, but saw nothing of the Indian who had used him as a target. Reflecting that his absence might be temporary, he made all haste to leave. the spot, which in that event could not be otherwise than ex- Ceedingly dangerous. He saw figures running hither and yon, in all directions, and he durst not rise to his feet. On his hands and knees he crept over to the eastern side, where he took tefuge under a clump of bushes that hung directly over the stream. Safely ensconced in these, the Quaker looked furtively out. For some distance along the stream was similar growth, and he did not doubt that many and many a fugitive had taken refuge among them, Looking furtively out, he saw a soldier approaching, whpm he recognized as a former inhabitant of the Valley. He seemed to be searching for some one, and Franklin was meditating surrendering himself and claiming protection, when, to his surprise, the brother of the soldier came from the bushes scarcely a dozen feet away, and walked up to him and called him by name. “Ah! so you are here,” said the soldier, cocking his gun. “ Yes, brother John, and I surrender to you.” No, you don’t.” | “TI will be your slave all my lifetime; I will do any thing for you—” “ All very well,” said the soldier, raising his gun and shoot- ing dead his own brother.* : Several Indians who witnessed this unnatural crime, shook their heads in displeasure. “Too wicked | too wicked!” The inhuman fratricide, however, heeded not their remarks, but Passed steadily on in quest of more victims. Not until this moment did the heart of Stoddard Franklin turn sick at what he had seen. He had been shocked again and again, but he had now become somewhat accustomed to the carnival that was raging. Never in all his imaginings had *This dreadful crime was witnessed by several concealed fugitives, and John Pencil, the fratricide, at the close of the war, fled to anaet not daring to encounter any of his former friends or relatives. In Canada he was twice set upon by wolves, and twice rescued by Indians. The jatter began to believe, however, that the hand of God was in the matter. | He too wicked—too wicked; Great Spirit angry ; Indian no more help him. ortly after, another lot of wolves got upon his trail, and his days were me inlserably ended in the Canadian woods, 4 prey to the ravenous ma 8, - comicbooks.com