ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1890 · page 186 of 263

Detective Bob Bridger — page 186: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Detective Bob Bridger — page 186: Penny Dreadfuls, 1890

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1890. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. 179. “Showing conclusively,” said the attorney, “that the man fell from the train by accident, and thus met his death.”’ “T will now call Dr. Luden,”’ oatinied the coroner, turn- ing to where the doctor sat. “Doctor, you will please state the result of your inspec- tion of the body.” “YT found,” returned the doctor, after kissing the book, “that the neck had been dislocated, and that the right side of the head was bruised.” “Were there any bruises on the body 2” “None.” “What is your opinion as to the cause of the man’s death ?” “The man was in a very weak state, and thoroughly wasted with pulmonary disease, and, doubtless, in attempt- ing to cross the platforms lost his balance and fell from the train. He evidently struck on the right side of his head, dislocating his neck, and dying instantly.” Dr. Miller, on being called, made a like statement. “T will now call Alfonse Godot,” said the coroner, and the consumptive prisoner arose, and stepped forward grandly. After administering the oath, the coroner continued : “What is your name, sir?” ‘My name is Alfonse Godot.” “Where do you reside 2?” “In England.” “Occupation ?” “ A gentleman—hic-chew !—of wealth and leisure, sir !” “You know the gentleman sitting there?” pointing to Videre. “Yes, sir.” “His name ?” “Pere Videre. He 1s—hic-chew !—my agent, sir!” ‘Did you pass westward in his company on the express train yesterday ?” “No, sir. I met him at the depot at Pittsburgh yesterday, where we were apprehended—hic-chew! hic chew! hic- chew !—by yonder ruffian.” ‘Might I ask your business in this country 2?” , “It is impertinent, sir—hic-chew ! hic-chew !—highly im pertinent, sir—hic-chew !—but as it seems the custom of the tawdry country to heap either offensive obtrusion or despicable indignity upon—hic-chew ! hic-chew !—I suppose I must state that I suffer from a pulmonary complaint, and travel for my health. However, I have been—hic-chew! comicbooks €oO