Laura Brayton — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

LAURA BRAYTON. 171 ready which at a hundred yards, in the hands of a marksman, would produce death as surely as it was discharged. After seeing that it was capped and ready for use, and even ranging his eye along its barrel, taking for an object the portly form of a servant ‘ who was sweeping the marble steps in front of the mansion, he muttered: “She is ready andsoamI, Now let the kid show himself. I reckon that thousand is as good as mine, Mr. Sharp. Tl have one off the list of them that are bucking against you afore I wet my lips WIE, anything better than this.” And the ruffian drew a flask from his pocket and drank. “Bah!” said he, as he put the flask back in hig’ pocket. “That stuff they call brandy, but it is as, weak as dish-water. It takes turpentine gin to: warm a fellow up. Curse that dog! Ill have to | lf Is shoot him while the servants are about, it will stop — my chances, and if I don’t, he is on my track and get him out of the way, or shift my quarters. will scent me out.” The last remark was caused by the appearance of one of those large liver-colored, deep-chested dogs so much liked in Cuba and in the South, known as the blood-hound, a breed remarkable for sagacity, keenness of smell, and ferocity, where not trained very carefully to friendly contact with the human race. It had been circling around the grounds until it had reached the spot where Joe had entered them, and now, after scenting the track a moment, with nose down, it was slowly approaching his place of concealment. | As it came nearer and Joe saw its size, its savage (ele) m G KS oXoXe) com.