Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 259: what you’re looking at

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

The Stampede. 247 appeared to be moving about the settlement, and hope took an upward bound. Nearer she came, swinging the pail in the most careless manner possible. He yearned to step out and meet her, yet realized that such an action might ruin all, or, at least, lessen the chances of success. Once at the spring, Polly bent over as if to fill her bucket. The moon showed her figure and face plainly, as there was no covering overhead here. “Karl!” she said, softly—almost in a whisper. “I’m here,’ came the reply. “What shall I do next?’ anxiously. “Leave your bucket, and come in among the rocks. It’s time for the show to begin, I guess.” She was quick to obey; the prospect of leaving this camp of refugees and reprobates, to again take up her happy life at dear old Sunset Ranch was quite enough to thrill Polly to the very heart and hasten her footsteps. Karl caught her trembling hand in his sturdy grasp, as though he would by the mere contact in- spire her with new courage. “Don’t be afraid; everything’s going hunky-dory, and the goose hangs high. Now come with me, Polly, dear,” he whispered in her ear—the boy ele- ment cropping up, in spite of the fact that he had been showing such manly attributes in his work of late. She was only too delighted to obey, and Karl, still stooping low, led her in the direction where the animal captured from the corral by Little Buckshot was secured. As yet the stampede had not begun, for it was good policy to delay this last and finishing stroke until some restless movement in the camp made it necessary to act. comiclooks C©