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In the Days of Poor Richard by Irving Bacheller
page 22 of 392 (05%)

"The white man done as he were told. I spoke English an' mebbe them
two Injuns didn't understan' me. We'll never know. Ol' Red Snout
leaned over to pick up his gun, seein' as we'd fired ours. There was a
price on his head an' he'd made up his mind to fight. Jack grabbed
him. He were stout as a lion an' tore 'way from the boy an' started to
pullin' a long knife out o' his boot leg. Jack didn't give him time.
They had it hammer an' tongs. Red Snout were a reg'lar fightin' man.
He jest stuck that 'ere stump in the ground an' braced ag'in' it an'
kep' a-slashin' an' jabbin' with his club cane an' yellin' an' cussin'
like a fiend o' hell. He knocked the boy down an' I reckon he'd 'a'
mellered his head proper if he'd 'a' been spryer on his pins. But Jack
sprung up like he were made o' Injy rubber. The bulldog devil had
drawed his long knife. Jack were smart. He hopped behind a tree.
Buckeye, who hadn't no gun, was jumpin' fer cover. The peg-leg cuss
swore a blue streak an' flung the knife at him. It went cl'ar through
his body an' he fell on his face an' me standin' thar loadin' my gun.
I didn't know but he'd lick us all. But Jack had jumped on him 'fore
he got holt o' the knife ag'in.

"I thought sure he'd floor the boy an' me not quite loaded, but Jack
were as spry as a rat terrier. He dodged an' rushed in an' grabbed
holt o' the club an' fetched the cuss a whack in the paunch with his
bare fist, an' ol' Red Snout went down like a steer under the ax.

"'Look out! there's 'nother man comin',' the young womern hollered.

"She needn't 'a' tuk the trouble 'cause afore she spoke I were lookin'
at him through the sight o' my ol' Marier which I'd managed to git it
loaded ag'in. He were runnin' towards me. He tuk jest one more step,
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