Leather-Clad Tales of Adventure and Romance, No. 38 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

IN THE SUNK LANDS. 65 and slunk back on the boat, dexterously avoiding a heavy kick he aimed at them. ‘Them air dogs hain’t got no manners tall,” said Mr. Dunlap, apologetically, as he stepped off the boat. ‘* You-uns have got a whoppin’ big load,” pointing to the four trunks on the wagon that we had repacked, leaving out the heavy guns and rifles. ‘‘Now that’s about as purty a weepon as ever | seed,” and he picked up Joe’s that leaned against the wheel. “ Y’all won’t mind if I try hit?” We realized by this time that it was useless to say anything about crossing the lake until Mr. Dunlap had satisfied himself concerning our business, and Joe nodded negatively. Two crows flying over the willows formed — the mark. With the crack of the rifle the last one suspended his exertions, poised nerveless, and then dropped lifeless, turn- ing over and over, out of sight. Mr. Dunlap was loud in his praise of the weapon, while we were no less so with the marksman. We formed a new opinion of Mr. Dunlap. - It was a gilt edge shot and no joking, > GOmicbdoo eS (E(0) mm »