Beadle's Dime Novels No. 95 — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

EPH INTRUDES. 4B shot further down the stream, and had brought as a- peace-of- fering to the cabin. “Thar’,” he said. . “I dew that when I go into a house whar’ thar’ are wimmin-folks, an’ no man round to keep ’em. You'll take that venison from me, my pretty miss, won’t you ?” “ Certainly, with mang thanks, and you shall have a meal from it as soon as it can be made ready,” replied Maggie. “That's what I was thinkin’ ov when I hresight down the buck. Thinks I, there’s. mother Wylde an’ her pretty darter live up by the Cohoos. Stands to reason, bein’ they are alone, they'll like a nice haunch of venison. And so I brought it.” He cast his eyes furtively about the cabin as he spoke, to note its occupants. These were the old woman and Jaques Chattillon. The latter was well knowito Eph, though that person had been careful to keep out of his way in the eamp of J&nson. Not that he feared to meet him, but he wished to be known to as few as possible in the French army, as* too great familiarity might lead to some awkward renconters, Having a prudent regard for his safety, he took care to know every one, without. being known himself. . Jaques looked at the hunter, as he seemed, from his dress, and at once came to the conclusion that nothing was to be feared from him. Indeed, the countenance of Eph expressed simple good-nature, and lack of brains. “ Good-day to yew, mother,” he said, addressing the old lady, who, knowing what he was, at once snapped at him viciously. : “And what brings you, Eph Peters, to the cabin of Ann Wylde ?” “ Dying to see ye, old mother.” “ You lie, Eph Peters. You are after no good, and I know it Haven's ‘I watched you? MHaven’t I,been on your track wien -you sneaked and crawled about the camps of the French ? This is a spy, Monsieur Jaques—an English spy !” “ You are a rare bird; mother,” ‘said Eph, putting his hands upon his knees and laughing loudly. “A rare bird, even for thése woods.” Jaques Chattillon rose and approached him. “Am I to understand, Madame Wylde, that you do not need this — 8 company ?” said he. = + COMMCIOOKS. COM