Old Shadow Shot — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

6 - OLD SHADOW-SHOT?. overturned the waggons and added to the uproar.. “Down with the copper thieves!” yelled the fiends, who dashed through the dim light upon the train. The explorers immediately flew to arms. Nightingale Nat picked up the rifle which the brutal Captain Rough had shaken from his grasp, and sprang instantly to the side of his uncouth protector, whose eyes flashed with the light of forest battle. “Stan’ by me, leetle one!” cried Shadow- Shot, glancing at the boy. “ We're in fur it now, an’ I’m thinkin’ thet thar’ll be some toes turned up to the sky afore the stars go down!” A few shots which emptied several saddles answered the initial volley, and then the greater part of the train-men, seized by a sudden panic, fled ingloriously from the fray. After all, Captain Rough’s followers were, for the most part, quite unused to “dance with death,” and almost instinctively fled from it. Shadow-Shot saw the desertion and grated his teeth. “The skunks!” he hissed, derisively. “Little one, they'll leave us alone presently. No use fightin’ the wood-cats, an’ fur sech a scamp as yer captin. But wait! thar’s one feller what needs a leaden pill.” | The long rifle struck the speaker's shoulder, and the report that followed the action sent a white plunderer headlong from one of the waggons. It was a death-shot. “Look!” suddenly cried the boy, grasp- ing the ranger’s arm and pointing excitedly to the right. “ What does that mean? Cap- iain Rough and that outlaw are friends.” ‘“The—old Harry!” ejaculated Shadow- Shot, starting at the picture exhibited to his gaze, ‘“Sech scamps ought to be friends; but, [ll make one of ’em friendless. Yer rifle, boy.” “No, no!” said the boy, withholding the weapon for which the great bronzed hand of the ranger was eagerly reaching. “Don’t shoot Captain Rough now. He knows some- thing that he must tell one of these days!” “Suthin’ about you, leetle one? Well, he shall tell!” The speaker’s lips closed firmly behind the last word. “Phey’re lookin’ fur us—them two demons! It ar’ lucky, p’raps, thet we've escaped so long.” Believing that the flight of the train-men had left the train completely in their power, as indeed it had, the Vultures had fallen to plundering. With that insatiate greed which characterises brutes of their stamp, they were ransacking the waggons, caring for no- * ~ — thing save the few valuables which were thus offered to them. The darkness and the greed of the outlaws had providentially screened Shadow-Shot and the boy from observation. Well might the sight to which Nightingale Nat called Shadow-Shot’s attention cause that worthy to start. Captain Rough was shaking hands with Captain Dave, the outlaw! “Birds of a feather!” the ranger said, looking at the twain. “We'll clip their wings afore long, p’raps. Come with me, leetle one!” The boy was nothing loth. With Shadow-Shot he would be beyond the reach of Captain Rough’s brutality. He would find a protector in the person of the old ranger, and he did not hesitate to follow. » The two plunged into the forest. Side by side they pushed into the darkening depths, the boy holding trustingly to the hard hand of his protector, and keeping pace with his long and rapid strides. “Hyer we are!” said Shadow-Shot, as he came to a sudden halt. Nat looked wonderingly into his face. “I want you to stay hyer till I come back!” the ranger contanued. “The hole is big enough to hold your carkiss, I guess.” What hole? The boy saw before him the dark trunk of a great tree, and closer scrutiny revealed an aperture about four feet from the ground ; but it did not look large enough to admit his body. “Tt held me once!” the ranger said, noticing the youth’s incredulous look. © “Hyer! Tl lift you into the places Plenty of air, boy, and room at the bottom. Ill be back soon. Thar’s suthin’ I want to find out back yonder at the waggons. Thar’s new devilry afoot in these parts, an’ Shadow-Shot will have new enemies from this hour, I’m thinkin’.” Trusting with all the confidence of a person of his few years, Nightingale Nat allowed himself to be lifted bodily from the . ground, and soon found himself snugly en- sconced in the novel place of concealment. “No b’ars in these parts,” words that the ranger said to the boy, and then the sound of footsteps, which rapidly grew indistinct, saluted Nat’s ears. were the last. Shadow-Shot had departed, and he was — alone in the capacious hollow of a tree in the > wild woods of Wisconsin. The situation, so novel and startling to the boy, kept his senses on the alert. His ears clung with tenacity to the foot- _ steps of his new-found friend, and when they died away and were heard no more, he felt the peril of his situation, Comichooks (C(O)