Beadle's Dime Novels No. 96: Little Moccasin — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

THE RENDEZYOUS. rat 81 were dead in love with, and that nothing was ever heard of them afterwards, But I beg your pardon; please go on with your story.” : “ Well, if you say so. It was a very dark night, and while - 80me were awdy after the stragglers, Peter went down to the Wharf, and while standing there and watching what seemed to be signal lights on the opposite shore, something approached him—a shadow—coming out from behind a pile of boards with- Out a sound or a whisper, and flung a paper at his feet and — instantly disappeared. There were only two or three lines i in- & female hand, saying, that no time was to ‘be lost, that mis- chief was brewing—and that-a friend with a sleigh was wait- ing at the cross-roads, where the particulars would be com- municated. Wrapping himself up in his fur robe and look- ing to his weapons, he hurried away to the place appointed, Where he found a stranger of uncommon size awaiting for him, With a pair of young horses harnessed to a wagon-box on run- ners. ‘“¢ Jump in! jump in! said the stranger, in 8 voice that Smith instantly recognized for that of his old friend the Ojibbe- way, and then shaking the -reins, and flourishing his large wagon-whip crack after crack, till it sounded like pistol-firing, he set off through the deep snow into the great black wilder ness, at a tearing pace. “ Nobody spoke till Peter, in ence his position, wtiched something in the bottom of the sleigh, which moved away of itself. “ ¢ Hulloo !’ said he, ‘what have we here ”? And he was just - going to give it a kick, when the driver said, with a sound something | between a grunt and a laugh, ‘ Better not.’ upposing it might be a dog—and your thoroughbred Indian dogs are not to be trifled with—he forbore; and af- ter a while, asked how far? . “* Better’n six miles, was thereply. And away sprung the high-spirited horses, with bound after bound, lifting the sleigh Over the snow, as if it were made of birch-bark, and plunging into the darkness beyond, ¢ as if they knew every inch of the Way. “ «Hush, now—hush—here um be; down, Pomp, down !’ said the driver, as they — turned and came whirling , COmIclHooks.com _,