The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

re ee 168 Gardner threw up his hands, and fell to the earth half dead. Jonathan ran towards him, as best: he could, con- sidering his wounded ankle, and knelt over him. The officer was unconscious, He was bleeding to death. Jonathan’s aim had been too true. He was dying. A smile of bitter scorn played round the mur- derer’s features as he limped off. “T must make the best of my way from this place,” he thought. “Old Flint told me he had part of his treasure concealed in that old inn. I know he sometimes goes there, and h&s a bed-room always at his disposal; that is the reason I came here ; but he knows not that Iam aware of all this, If I could only meet him, and have my revenge on him, like I have had with that officer, I should feel content.” At that moment, and while he limped along the road, he heard, in the distance, the sounds of a horse galloping hard. In the distance he could perceive the muffled figure of some one approaching. He got behind some bushes, and awaited the horseman’s approach. “Who can it be?” he thought. ‘‘I want a good horse now, and if I can only stop the stranger and rob him of it, I can make my escape ; if not, this wounded ankle will cause me to be arrested and hung. It is better I should, for my own sake, steal a horse than be swung up at Newgate,” The horseman had now approachéd within a hundred yards of Jonathan’s hiding place behind thes bushes, and checked his horse into a leisurely walk, CHAPTER LXIV, HOW JOEY, THE COSTERMONGER, SERVED OUT PUGGY, JOEY, the reformed thief, though he now disliked robbery and all such villany, yet felt a kind of old liking for Bill, Jack, and Alf, for in sickness und other distresses they had helped him along. When, therefore, Joey went into a public-house to have his dinner, he took up the newspaper— the “’Tizer”? was his favourite journal—and was astonished to read an account of the arrest of several persons charged with breaking into a bank. “It’s Jack and t’others for a quid,” said Joey, “and that all come of Mr. Puggy; if they will go robbing for a living instead of sticking to hard work like any honest man, why it sarves’emright.. But still, that don’t excuse Puggy—he has turned in- former, and is paid for his pains: he won’t work, and is afraid to steal, so he takes a kind of middle course, and gets an easy crust by informing on those who do steal. “ And he ‘ fancies’ himself too, and thinks he can fight, but I never heard of him holding up his hands to any one who wasn’t a deal the weaker man, I should dearly like to have a shy at him one o’ these times on the quiet.”’ Joey had not long to wait for an opportunity of meeting Puggy ‘‘ on the quiet.’’ There was to be a ratting match for £10, at “The Clippers,’ and as usual, on Monday night, Joey “did himself up” rather sprucely and went there. For Joey was very fond of “sport” of any kind, ana would much rather spend “his tanner” in look- ing at a ratting or a boxing match, than stand “ boosing” about beer-house bars, -_———- THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI’S YOUNG CAPTAIN. On the night in question, Joey went early, 4nd after the ratting match was over, “ boxing” com- menced. Among the “gents” in the “shilling place,” Joey espied Puggy in the company of a sprucely -jressed detective. “ Puggy seems well up,” thought Joey. “It ain’t half-a-pint, and a ha’porth 0’ tobacco now with him ; and ain’t he conceited in his new togs ?” After a few rounds by several indifferent amateurs, Puggy went into a side room, pulled off his things, and put on the boxing gloves. He felt very anxious to exhibit his knowledge of “the noble art.” But though he had been in the ring several minutes no one among the non-fighting men present seemed anxious to meet him. Puggy smiled, and was about to throw off the gloves again, when Jocy stepped forward. “Don’t pull ’em off, Puggy,” said Jo2, “ Till give you a turn,” “ You?” said Puggy, in disgust; “why I’m a stone heavier than you.” “JT knows it,” said Joey, pulling off his shirt, and tightening his belt. ‘‘That’s why yer head is so big.” This rather nettled Puggy, who, in truth, had a very large and ugly head. The numerous bystanders laughed at Joey’s retort, and when they saw what a trim-built, sturdy little fellow he was, with not an ounce of useless flesh about him, and his muscles standing out from his arms and shoulders like a mass of steel, they could not but contrast him with his big and bloated opponent. Joey fastened on his gloves, and stood in the middle of the ring ready for action. “Play light, Puggy,” said Joe, with a confident smile, 1 “Make it as hard as you like,” said Puggy, with an oath ; “for I mean to smash yer smeller afore I’ve done.” * All right,” said Joe, and they began to spar. Every one was silent, for they could see that the two sparrers had no love for each other. “Close the door, Weazle,”’ said the sporting land- lord to one of his “stud,” on the sly. ‘Let noone come up, ‘cept swells, for this here’s going to bea reg’lar slogging match, I can plainly see.” “Puggy is too much for t’other,”’ said Weazle ; “he’s two stone heaviest.” “No matter, the little ’un’s got game, you'll see.” During the first round Puggy smiled like a man who has a very short and easy job before him, He advanced, and feinted, and jumped back in very clever style, which caused some applause, Puggy was very vain, and wished to show those present, and his detective friend in particular, “ what he could do if he liked.” Joey did not make any show whatever, nor did he hop and skip about like a tom-cat on hot bricks, like Puggy. He waited for an opening. It soon came, “Stop sparring, and go in, Puggy,” said the detective. Puggy did go in, He made a feint with his right, and then reached Joey’s nose with the left, The same instant, however, he was knocked clean off his legs. For Joey had waited, and then cross-countered Puggy’s left with his own right. GEomicboo (E(@)