Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 76: what you’re looking at

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eee y -_~_-_~-~_- > 88 a a protracted the fight any longer he must certainly be taken. He backed his horse. tris 4 “ This will settle it,’ he growled, with an oath, He drew a pistol from his holster and levelled it at Jack. 8 : Hal Hetherington, who was now riding up, aimed at the robber’s hand, and fired. The bullet struck Turpin’s pistol, which went off in the air. fsck ric! “You have escaped for this time, my kinchin,” erowled the robber, shaking his fist at our hero, ‘‘ but we shall meet again.” : So saying, he turned his horse. ‘Now catch me who can!” laughed the high- wayman, waving his hat to his pursuers. “ Hark- away, Bess.” > And the rascal galloped with the speed of the wind. An involuntary cry of admiration burst from the lips of the spectators as the beautiful black courser bounded away with such grace and power, darting like a shaft through the briary underwood. “ After him, lads!" cried Roving Jack, * and if you can but get within pistol range shoot the mis- creant dead.” “Tally-ho !” yelled the farmers, as if they were hunting a fox. Away they rattled. Our hero, whose horse was almost equal to Turpin’s, forged ahead, \followed at some distance by Hal Hetherington and the rest. The whole party scrambled recklessly through the wood. They reached the high road, and leaped their horses down the bank. Here an exciting chase commenced. Dick Turpin, who was wondrously proud of his jockey-ship, and, moreover, a most daring villain, actually walked his mare at a slow, graceful, ambling pace, and looking backwards, called upon his pursuers to mend their speed, and laughing and _ jeering at them for laggards, But he had well-nigh found cause to repent of his rashness, Our fiery youug hero was in no mood for fool’s play ; he came rushing along like the wind, and when but a few lengths behind the highwayman blazed away at him with his pistol, knocking off his hat and grazing his forehead. Turpin swore most awfully. For an instant he seemed to be inclined to turn about and attack our hero. However, he changed his mind, and urged Black Bess to the top of her speed. Away she flew like lightning. Roving Jack spurred and whipped his white arab, and the two horses ran neck and neck in a dead heat, The ride had rather the character of a race than a chase—the black and white steeds straining every nerve to outstrip each other, : At length, with all his exertions, our hero's horse gradually fell off, and now hung feebly at the black mare’s side. Soon the bonnie Black Bess was ahead by many a length, and the arab, apparently exhausted, was losing ground at every pace. “Stop thief ! a highwayman |!” roared the pursuers, seeing a cart in the road. ** Knock down the villain ! ’Tis Dick Turpin !” “ Harkaway !” laughed the highwayman, waving his hat, as, with a light bound, his beautiful steed leaped over the cart. ‘ Adieu, gentlemen ; Borry I can’t wait for you ; but my time's precious, and you so slow—ha, ha, ha !” | ‘> — ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. LL OT i CHAPTER XXXV. EDGEWORTH BESS ENDBAVOURS TO PREVENT JACK SHEPPARD FROM JOINING ROVING JACK’S BAND, Mr. Joe BLAKE, alias Blueskin, had a house in Fetter Lane, which he rented of one Field, of whom mention has been made in previous chapters, It was an old store-house adjoining a stable, and was used by Blueskin and his partners as a “‘ lumber ken,” or a receptacle for plunder. Thither, one chill evening, when the watch had just commenced lighting up the dim oil and cotton lamps that tempered the gloom of the ill-paved, dirty streets of old London, that a pretty girl, flashily dressed in wide-hooped petticoats and furbelows and close wrapped in a hooded mantle, came lightly tripping. Shestopped at the door, and cast a rapid, anxious glance at the dark house. No light appeared at any of the windows, and the girl listened tremblingly for some moments ere she could summon resolution to knock at the door. Though she tapped but gently her summons elicited a deep roaring bay of a dog and the clank-. ing of a heavy chain in the passage. Then she could hear-the muttered blasphemies of a surly voice, and a scramble and bash as if the noisy watch-dog had been rewarded for his vigi- lance by being kicked across the passage. The girl stepped backwards in some trepidation. A little trap door just above her head was pushed open, and a dark, scowling face appeared, with a hand which grasped something long and gleaming that showed in the darkness very much like a pistol. “Who the devil are you, and what do ye want?” growled a voice. “‘ Oh, it’s all right, Blueskin,” returned the girl, in a whisper, “it’s only I. Come down, I want to speak to you.” ‘““ What, Edgeworth Bess?” cried the ruffian, in accents less surly than those in which he had put his former question. ‘‘Stop a bit, my dimber mort, Pll let you in directly.” The trap-door was closed and bolted. Edgeworth Bess waited for some time im- patiently. Then a footstep was heard in the echoing passage. THE SEELETON CREW. HIP, HURRAH! BOYS, HURRAH!! HURRAH!!! THREE CHEERS FOR WILDFIRE NED! READ! READ!! READ!!! This great sensation Work of the day, how young WILDFIRE NED, ON SEA AND LAND, TRACKED THE SKELETON CREW OF PIRATES! EXTRACT :— ““ My footsteps shall follow you, Phillip Redgill, for ever!” sighed a voice, in sepulchral tones. “Phillip Redgill!”’ gasped the money-searching murderer, “that is my realname. Oh, God! itis the voice of the mur- dered man, And yet he is here, lifeless, and legless. Hark! hat footsteps are those I hear? Who could have limbed him us ?”” While Bolton, or Phillip Redgill, as the spirit voice now rightly called him, stood trembling thus, the ghostly voice said loudly again— : Beware, Phillip Redgill! my footsteps shall follow you for ever !"’ Dropping the blood-stained bludgeon beside the body, Phillip Redgill rushed from the room, dashed down stairs, opened the back door, and ran towards the orchard. He mounted his horse, and was about to start off at a furious gallop, when he gave a sharp, horror-stricken shout at some- thing he saw! The gory, phantom legs of the Squire stood bolt upright in the snow beside him! ‘* Phillip Redgill, I follow you !” The murderer plunged spurs into his steed y and dashed from the spot! NOW READY, WITH A GRAND PRESENT, GRATIS, THE SKELETON GREW. Pree rereme see NOTICE.—With our next Number will be presented a Grand' Picture of TOV. KING IZ