Commodore Junk — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

ANOTHER ESCAPE. 139 his piece and rapidly reloading as the boat glided on till it was only about twenty yards away, and, in spite of a fierce threat or two, the repugnance to shed blood and the natural desire noé to fight against the law had kept Abel and Bart from returning the fire. Their case seemed hopeless now, unless in the struggle to come they repelled the boarders, for the wind which dotted the. sea a hundred yards away with ripples refused to kiss their sail, and in another minute the overseer and his party would have been alongside, when, just as he covered Jack’s arm, which could be seen lying upon the tiller, and when a shot at such short range would have been almost as bad as one from a bullet, there was a puff of smoke, a sharp report, and the overseer started up in the boat, dropped his fowling- piece, which fell into the sea with a splash, and then, before the officer could save him, he pitched head-foremost over the side. “Look at that now,” said Dinny, who had risen into a sitting position on the deck, with his musket across his lap. “Yes ; you've done it now, Dinny Kelly,” said the sailor, gruffly. ‘‘ Desarted from the station, and shot the superinten- dent.” “ Sorra a bit,” said Dinny, as the wind suddenly struck the cutter, which heeled over and began to forge rapidly through the water. “Sorraa bit, man. It was this awkward baste of a mushket. I just closed my finger for a moment an the thrigger, and whoo! off she went, kicking up her heels like a niggers mule. D’yer think the overseer’s hurt 4” “1 think you’ve killed him.” “Not I, bedad. It was me mushket,” said Dinny. * Divil a bit will I have any more to do wid it. Tl have another with a thrigger which isn’t wakc.” CORnnicloooks