Beadle's Dime Novels No. 96: Little Moccasin — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

MYSTERY. 65 are standing quite by themselves—and yet further off a gigan- * tic, thunder-blasted pine, the tallest in all that neighborhood. Steering straight for that, you come in sight of the ravine, and if you manage as I know you will, the very spot on which the mystery took place—a great pile of rocks and rubbish—you may get near enough to, for your purpose; after which, you will be governed by circumstances—only be upon your guard, there may be others watching you—or, at any rate, others whom you would not like to meet with alone and unprepared.” “It is hardly to be supposed that such a young creature would be alone— all, all alone ’—in such a ee or solitude as you haye described.” “Just my idea !” said: Gage, offering the other his hand, with a cordial grip. “ Success to ~you—good-by, I’m off to join the loggers.” On reaching the spot they were clearing of logs, the cattle at full spring, and Charley and Juba shouting whoop! whoop! hurrah ! and the dogs tumbling about in the snow, he found the Old Forester sitting apart from the others, with his head resting upon his hands, mute and motionless, and lost in a deep reverie. Gage went up to him, and favinil his hand upon his shoul- der, asked what was the trouble. The strange man looked up with a mournful expression, which went to the heart of Gage, whose chin quivered in sym- pathy ; but he did not immediately answer. That something weighed heavily on his mind, it was easy to see, but who could guess at the nature of such sorrow ?—a mixture of lone- liness and a sort of-sullen discontent could be perceived now and then, however, as Gage stood waiting for the answer, set- tling about his mouth and throwing a shadow over his large forehead and swarthy temples. At last he spoke in a low, muffled voice, which sounded as from afar, like the wind among the pines by the sea-shore. “JT must leave you,” said he—‘ my time is up; and the rest of my work must be done elsewhere.” “ But, my good friend, why leave us? And what are we to do without your help? There are large districts in this very neighborhood, which have been wholly overlooked by our lumbermen—perhaps on account of the fire. With this comicbooks.com