Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Still Hunt; Or, The Robber of the Range онлайн

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“Bonnie Belle are squar’ all round.”

Suddenly, as she made the rounds of the tables, she came face to face with a man who had just entered the Devil’s Den. He was dressed in miner’s garb, and was a commanding-looking man, with a handsome, full-bearded face and wearing his hair long.

His look was that of a man reared in refinement, and his manners, as he spoke to various of those whom he passed, were courtly and gentle.

“Ah, Deadshot Dean, I am glad to see you. Do you play to-night?” and Bonnie Belle held forth her hand, which the man grasped warmly, while he doffed his hat as he replied:

“No, Bonnie Belle, I merely looked in for a moment. Is it too late to get some supper at the Frying Pan?”

“No, I will go over at once and order it,” and she passed on, leaving the saloon by the rear door by which she had entered, and which led along a stockade lane at the base of the mountain range to her own quarters.

The man addressed as Deadshot Dean quietly made the tour of the room, and it was evident from the greetings bestowed upon him and the attention he attracted that he was no ordinary personage.