Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 91: The Lost Cache — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

THE FAIR MARKSMAN. 83 outnumbered by their assailants, and in a few minutes Téte Bois came across the chasm, bearing the bleeding form of Mr. Brainard. Thus only Harry was left on the other side, and his situation was truly. perilous. “Come across, Harry!” shouted Myers. “ Ran over the bridge while you can! We will keep off the red devils.” After a hurried glance, which showed him his danger and his only chance for escape, Chenault turned from his antago- nists, and rushed to the bridge. The rifles of Myers, Jolin Brainard and Téte Bois, aided by those of Farrar and Green, | who had heard the firing, and had hastened to the scene of ac- tion, sent death among those who attempted to pursue him; “but he had hardly reached the middle of the bridge, when he was overtaken by a tall Indian, who scized him by the waist, as if with the intention of hurling him into the chasm. It fortunately happened that the young gentleman’s foot slipped, and he fell forward on his face, the savage falling up-- on him. Harry clutched a limb of the tree; his antagonist did the same, and then commenced a struggle, m which it was soon apparent that the tall red-skin would get the better of the white man, who was much exhausted by his exertions, and partially disabled by the w ound i im his left arm. . The re- maining Indians carefully kept out of the way of the dreaded rifles, and Harry’s friends could get no chance to fire, as his body was interposed between them. and his foe. The savage got an arm around the neck of the, white man, and commenced to choke him. It was evident that Chenault must soon give way, weakened as he was, under this anacon- da process, and it seemed impossible to assist him. Myers, who was nearly frantic, started to rush out from his cover to the assistance of his friend, and would surely have been shot from. the other side, if he had not been restrained by Ben Farrar. “ Hold on!” exclaimed the hunter. ‘“ You can’t help him by gittin’ yerself rubbed out. Tl put a bullet through that Injin, even if it has to go through Mr. Chenault. It’s an or- ful resk, but it’s the only thing fur to do!” The old trapper, with compressed lips and frowning brows, ° carefully sighted his rifle; but, before he could fire, the sharp report of a pistol was heard, and the savage, shot through the comicbooks.conn