Commodore Junk — page 231: what you’re looking at

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

224 COMMODORE JUNK. realised these facts, he glanced back, to see how easily his trail could be followed—each step he had taken being either im- pressed in the vegetable soil or marked by the crushing down of moss or herb. The sight of this impelled him to additional effort, so that he might gain some definite information about his people, and perhaps seek them by night, when once he had found the means of communication. In this spirit he was hurrying on when he came suddenly, in one of the darkest paths, upon a figure which barred his way, and it was with the addition of a rage-wrung savage exclamation that he uttered his captor’s name. There was a dead silence in the dark forest as these two stood face to face, buried, as it were, in a gloomy tunnel. After Humphrey’s impatient ejaculation, drawn from him in his surprise, quite a minute elapsed ; and then, half-mockingly, came in a deep, low voice— “Yes ! Commodore Junk !” Humphrey stood glaring down at the obstacle in his path. He was tall and athletic, and, in spite of his weakness and the tales he had heard of the other’s powers, he felt that he could seize this man, hurl him down, and plant his foot upon his chest ; for the buccaneer captain was without weapons, and stood looking up at him with one hand resting upon his hips, the other raised to his beardless face, with a well-shaped, small index finger slightly impressing his rounded cheek. “Yes,” he said again, mockingly, “Commodore Junk! Well, Humphrey Armstrong, what mad fit is this?” ‘Mad fit!” cried Humphrey, quickly recovering himself. “You allowed me to be at liberty, and I am exploring the place.” The buccaneer looked in his eyes, with the mocking smile growing more marked. “Ts this Captain Humphrey Armstrong, the brave com- Gomichbooksneo ——