Commodore Junk — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

80 COMMODORE JUNK. One of the men burst into a hoarse laugh. ‘T’ve hardly any money,” cried the captain ; “a guinea or two. If I give you that will you go?” “Curse your money, you cowardly hound!” cried the second man. “ How dare you, dog!” cried the captain. ‘“ Do you know who I am 1?” “ James Armstrong,” said the same speaker. ‘ Now, lad, quick ! ” ‘You shall ‘i The captain’s words turned into a yell of agony as he re- ceived a violent blow from a stick across one arm, numbing it, and before its echo rose from the steep slope of the hill a second and a third blow fell, which were followed by a shower, the unfortunate man yelling, beseeching, and shrieking with agony and fear. He dropped upon his knees and begged piteously for mercy ; but his tormentors laughed, and seized the opportunity he offered to apply their blows more satisfac- torily. Back, arms, legs, all in turn, were belaboured as two men beat a carpet, till the victim’s cries grew hoarse, then faint, and finally ceased, and he lay in the trampled road, crushed almost to a mummy, and unable to stir hand or foot; and then, and then only, did his assailants cease. “ Ain’t killed him, have we, Abel, lad?” said the bigger of the two men. “Killed? No. We never touched his head. It would take a deal to kill a thing like him. Captain!” he said, mock- ingly. ‘“ What a cowardly whelp to command men !” “What shall we do now?” whispered the bigger man. ~ “Do! Im going to make my mark upon him, and then go home.” “ Well, you have, lad.” “ Ay, with a stick, but I’m going to do it with my knife ; ” Gomichbooksneo