Beadle's Dime Novels No. 97: The Doomed Hunter — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

ee THE DOOMED HUNTER. fierceness, however, and when the door was shut and fastened upon the outside, seemed to fancy that the prisoner was se- cure, without any especial watchfulness upon his part. Sunset came, fading away into twilight, and that in turn into darkness. Still they remained undisturbed in the cabin. No supper had been brought to Ralph, but he was not es- pecially in need of it, and finally settled back upon the couch, not to sleep but to think and plot. He was far from relishing the idea of a night passed in this place, since there could hardly remain the shadow of a hope for him, should daylight come and find him within those walls. But, how to leave? No doubt that could be managed if he were freed from the presence of any looker-on, but there was the guard, a bloodthirsty Indian, who had been desig- nated expressly to watch him, and foil any attempt to escape. Beyond this the door was fastened upon the outside, and very likely the place might be guarded without, in addition to the sentinel within. Surely the prospect was dark enough, and any man less determined than Ralph Rilley would have succumbed to the force of circumstances brought against him. He, however, felt that life was worth a desperate effort, and while the In- dian supposed him to be asleep or thinking over his fate of the morrow, he was really meditating in what manner he should break the chain of influences. binding him beneath that fatal roof. ~ b Silently the hours passed, and midnight was near at hand, The sentry had drawn’ the block of wood beside the couch whereon his charge slept—as he supposed—and sat upon it, half dozing. The prisoner was fully aware of this, for although the darkness was nearly impenetrable, he exerted every sense to the utmost. Gradually, inch by inch, fraction | by fraction the reclining form was drawing nearer, noting every movement of the sentinel, and waiting for an oppor- tunity to spring upon him for a death-struggle. If the young man’s life was to end soon, it might as well be ina etraggle with the Indian before him as in any mpre hideous manner. One of the most difficult tricks imaginable is that of main- taining strict watch through the long hours of night, with nO E, not even the power of movers to keep the senses (COMIC OOO <SaColn