Mezzoni the Brigand — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

48 MEZZONI THE BRIGAND. ‘*Here I am,’’ was the answer. And a large, shaggy Italian, who answered, came out of the cave with a pipe in his mouth. He must have been over six feet in height and powerfully built. He was an ugly customer at a pinch, any one might have seen, and the straggler eyed him cu- riously as he made his appearance at the summons. His comrades told him briefly that they had picked up a runaway sailor from an English ship, who had been boasting, since he had got his stomach full, that he could whip anybody, big or small. ‘‘Hold fast there,’’ said the new-comer; ‘‘I didn’t boast like that, but I don’t think you have one among you who can whip me single-handed, with- out anything but his fists.”’ At these remarks the man they had called Vecchio regarded the stranger with a look of humorous con- tempt, and merely said: ‘I could pick you to pieces like a chicken.”’ ‘Give me a night’s rest, and as good a breakfast as I have had dinner, and we will see which is the best man,”’ said the sailor. ‘That is fair,’’ said a half-dozen at once. ‘“‘Agreed,’’ said Vecchio, who rarely found any one who was willing to stand up before him and be beaten. He was evidently the champion of the gang. “Tf I whip him you will let me join you?’’ asked the sailor of the leader. “Yes, if you can doit. We can’t have too many brave fellows like Vecchio.’’ ‘‘After breakfast to-morrow, then. Now where may I sleep? I amas tired as I was hungry an hour ago.”’ A comfortable straw bed was assigned to him, and he was left to himself, giving indications in a few Eomicbooks.co