Deadwood Dick's Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

bo DEADWOOD DICK. tions, Then he returned to the grave, and selecting ten pennies from his pocket, he dropped them down the tube. Peering down, his astonishment was unbounded. The tomb was dark as Stygia! He could not see beyond a foot below the mouth of the orifice. t For a few moments he stood there, too much dum-— founded to move; then, satisfied that it would be safer for him not to be discovered in the neighborhood, he turned to retrace his steps toward Right Bower. As he did so his eye caught sight of a placard upon the cabin door. Here was another mystery! It had been posted there since he had tried the door a few minutes before. “Well, I'll be blamed if this ain’t enough to jar the nerves of an anchorite!” he muttered, grimly, his teeth going together with a click “I’m not at all superstitious, but it beats my time, I know.” With a hand resting upon the revolver in his belt, he strode toward the shanty-cabin—for it was built partly of logs and partly of boards. The poster was ordinary newspaper, and had been let- tered with a marking-brush to read as follows: “OBITUARY! “Sacred to the memory of Chet Rossitur, who lies Hy a That was all. > ..With a puzzled expression of countenance, St. Cecil took another good look around him, and then rotenged aad { commicloookks.comnn) |