Pulp Fiction, 1865 · page 79 of 100
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 85: The Fugitives — page 79: what you’re looking at
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THE IRRMPRESSIBLE NEGRO. 81 “ Since we started,” said he, “I have been pondering upon this matter, and have come to the belief that the heathen are not fleeing—that they have encamped, and we may therefore look for their camp-fire.” “Precisely my *pinion—~and I was jes’ goin’ to obsarve it whem you obsarved it, and saved me the trouble,” said Pete, with a flourish. “What reason ares you for thinking thus ?” inquired the lieutenant. “What reason hath thee pe supposing! otherwise ? Why should they flee? After such an utter defeat of the whites in the Valley, need they fear pursuit? When-all, who have the chance, are running away, have they cause to aniea that any will seek a contest with them ?” These pointed and earnest inquiries hamaii all questions, Old Gershom and the lieutenant were convinced, although several questions arose in the mind of the latter. “Tt would be no: hardship for the Jndians themselves. to travel all night+then why should they show, enough con- sideration for their captives to halt upon their account ?” “Tf they took them away, they will take care of them— and give them rest when they need it?” 7 “ But, George, are they not mounted? Could, they not ride for hours !” “They could, but it would be tiresome and denoniwes in tle woods— “ Golly gracious! Tm killed !” eevee Pete, in terrified accents, All were startled, and paused to understand the nature of this new danger. He was heard spitting and muttering as uM he had suffered some severe injury. “ What's the matter?’ demanded the lieutenant, both in curiosity and with considerable anger. “Noffin’ now—all right—stepped out one side de path, and run a big limb under my chin—tought T’d sawed my neck off at fust, but b’leve I didn’t. N eedn’t wait any longer fur me.” “Tf the heathen be anywhere near, thou hast. probably warned them, and placed them on their guard against us,” said Stoddard Franklin, in his quiet, significant tone. comiclooks.com