The Wrong Man — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

14 THE WRONG MAN. “TI reckon that game got away from him.” “No, sir; dad fixed on a plan, and gothim. What do you spose his plan was?” ** Can't tell.” “A plan that I'd advise you to foller, Mr. Never-miss, che first chance you git. He bent the barrel of his rifle so it pointed around the rock and then fired, bringing down the brute sure, He found it rather dangerous however. The bullet went through the deer, and just grazed his own face. That's the way my father managed affairs, when he was out hunting. Don’t you think, my fine Mr. Never-miss,” asked the pe(dier ‘ with a quizzical air, “ that you might learn something of him?” “If you want to find fault with my shooting, Mr. Peddler, just take your place a hundred yards off there, or a hundred feet for that matter, and we'll soon settle who is the best shot.” Tie continued insinuations of the peddler had stirred up the feelings of the hunter, and he was now thoroughly indignant. While the loquacious Yankee was pcg in his characteris- tic story-telling, his curiosity had been sufficiently aroused to cause him to pay attention; but he now felt that he had been insulted. The peddler (unwittingly perhaps) had choven as the subject of his taunting remark that quality on which a back- woodsman most prides himself: ‘This was manifest by the an- gry ot upon his swarthy cheek. * Brag is a good dog, but hold-fast is better,” retorted the ped- dler, still whittling at the stick in his hand. “I wouldn’t mind accommodating you at all if I had the weapon at hand.” “ Just name the time, git Fea gyn, and I’m on hand,” said the hunter, getting more and more in a passion every moment. “You'll find, as I told you awhile ago, that I’m enough for you.” “ Judging from the sample I have just seen, I wouldn’t mind standing at a hundred yards, and giving you a chance if a body might turn an honest penny by it. would be a safe busi- n ess. “ A little more of that,” said the hunter, threateningly, “and you'll rue the day you met Ned Overton.” “ Pahaw, now, you don’t say so,” said the peddler, with a con- temptuous smile, as he approached him. “Go way, Yankee; I’m dangerous.” _ * As the buck, which just swim the river, can bear witness,” cried the peddler, and he indulged in another hearty laugh. | __* Look here, ES: said the irritated nunter, “ you're run- ¢ Fane *ginst a snag. If you wanta licking, say the word,and _. [m the chap can row a whole raft of Yankees up Saltriver, a yoursell off bee keep Ce or = body, jest tote Se L an ve me alone. It’s dangerous coming ns nenst the trail of a Kentuck ranger.” an ” - * aoe ~ ee Scomicbooks:com a. ae eS ok