Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 240: what you’re looking at

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

228 The Raid on the Bad Lands. Karl looked keenly at her for a minute, then he said: : “Don’t look overmuch like a prisoner, does she, Buckshot ?” “Me think she wise gal,” said the Indian. “What, for making the best of it? I guess you’re right. She’s not sitting there moping or crying, as most any girl might. Reckon, Buckshot, you’ve got the proper idea. She’s too much sense to waste time on that kind of thing.” “Berry wise gal,” repeated the Indian, solemnly. When Karl first discovered the little maiden she was busily engaged over a fire, cooking something for her uncle’s supper, and the dexterous manner in which she handled a frying pan over an open blaze was positive proof that she had done this same thing many times before when they two were nomads, drifting where fortune seemed to beckon. Karl felt easier. She was not injured, then, and the game could wait a while until reinforcements arrived. New courage took root in his heart. The male members of this socialistic community were of various stripes and patterns, from the cow- boy and miner, down to the dark-faced Mexican with his fiercely-pointed mustache, his gold-braid em- broidered velvet jacket, silver-button decorated trousers and broad sombrero. Fear of justice makes strange bedfellows, and among these rougher elements Karl discovered a couple of sleek-looking fellows, one of whom had a clerical and the other a legal aspect. The boys watched all that went on with intense interest. That they should be in such close touch with the settlement that had so long been the dread of the border, defying attack, and offering a ready refuge to every scoundrel fleeing from the reward of his conniclooolkks.conn