The Halfpenny Surprise, Vol. I, No. 20 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

4 | THE HALFPENNY SURPRISE. Turning to Mathers, he said: “ Bring out the blood- hound, and hold him in leash until we’re ready to start.” Rose Coglan, who stood by, touched Frank Lister’s arm, and whispered: ‘‘Come with me; we may save him yet!” Flinter, Bob Greene, and half a dozen miners mounted and started in pursuit, accompanied by the bloodhound. When they had ridden off, Rose and Frank, both well mounted and armed, left the settlement by stealth. In the meantime Charlie, more resolute than ever to escape since overhearing the conversation of the two miscreants, passed through the gorge and reached the open country. Fleet of foot, he hurried with all speed in the direction of the forest some few miles distant. Scarcely had he gone a quarter of a mile or so, when the moon rose in splendour, and quickly flooded the earth with light. He considered this a disadvantage, inasmuch as it would enable his pursuers to track him easily. Now that sober judgment had come to his aid, he saw clearly the mistake he had made in challenging the attention of his enemies. However, as vain regrets would not aid him, he threw off the feeling and went forward at a rattling pace. He was half a mile from the goal of his hopes when he heard the deep baying of the bloodhound, and saw, on looking back, several horsemen in pursuit. How he got over the last half mile in the time he never knew; but he dashed into the forest before Flinter and his gang could open fire upon him with their revolvers. They would have to dismount ere following him up; but the bloodhound did not suffer from this dis- advantage. - To add to his peril he had dropped the revolver during his flight, and now the knife was his sole dependence. He was too fatigued to push his way through the forest with a deadly enemy at his heels—one who knew no pity, but would follow him until it struck its horrid fangs into his quivering flesh. Selecting a tree he placed his back to it, and with set teeth, and breath that came in gasps, he awaited the onslaught, knife in hand. The dog seemed to be warned by an unerring instinct that it had a determined enemy to deal with. It crawled along on its belly, its gleaming eyes fixed on his face as if to magnetise him before destroying him. A few rapid contortions of its huge body preliminary to propelling itself through the air like an arrow from a bow, when lo! a python with a lightning dart was upon it, enveloping it in its deadly coils. Charlie, with murmurs of gratitude to heaven for this merciful and unlooked-for intervention at the very eleventh hour, glided away from the spot, and was soon lost in the intricacies of the forest. Meanwhile, a cruel disappointment overtook Rose Coglan and Frank Lister. Being better mounted than the others they intended overtaking Charlie and giving up Frank’s horse to him. But alas! the animal ridden by him put its foot into a hole, throwing the lad heavily and rendering him par- tially unconscious. Rose dismounted and succeeded in getting him round, but much valuable time was lost through the accident. On arriving at the outskirts of the forest they saw a man taking care of a number of horses. “Hullo!” shouted Frank. “Same to you, boss,” came back in reply. “Where’s Flinter and the others ? ” “Tn the forest, matey.” “ And the bloodhound ?” “ Killed by a serpent, and no doubt devoured by this time.” The pair, after a whispered consultation, rode away at full gallop. Frank knew of a clearing which led toa river intersecting the forest, on the banks of which they hoped to meet and succour Charlie. This necessitated making a long detour, but there was no help for it but to look the inevitable cheerfully in the face. Arriving on the river bank they dismounted, tethered their horses to trees, and patrolled in opposite direc- tions, but within easy call of each other. An hour spent in astate of suspense, that was becoming almost unsupportable, passed, when Rose caught sight of Charlie. She gave a shout of joy which, however, was short lived, for whether in his excitement at meeting Rose there, he slipped and fell into the river, or whether a shot which was fired from ambush took effect, was not apparent. She ran to the spot, calling loudly for help, and peering into the turbulent waters. So great was pe MeOS of mind that she was oblivious to her own peril. Two eyes glared at her vengefully—eyes which in their ferocity might easily be mistaken for those of some beast of prey. It was Black Mathers, who never forgave an injury, however slight or unprovoked. “It’s that minx, Rose Coglan, who threw the whiskey into my face,” he muttered. “I'll pay her off now that she’s alone and in my power. She’ll have a chance. ot joining her lad-lover. I shot him and will drown er!’ He advanced swiftly, seized her round the waist, and with prodigious strength, hurled her, shrieking, far out from the shore, into the swift torrent,. “Ha! ha! my fine lady,” he said, mockingly, ‘you won't play tricks upon Black Mathers again.” But even as he had spoken two avenging bullets struck him, one in the forehead the other in the heart, tumbling him into the river. The avenger of as foul a crime -as mortal man could commit was Frank Lister; the weapon a repeating rifle. He had heard the poor girl’s shrieks, seen the dastard hurl her in, and meted out swift punishment to him in turn. But the act, a righteous one in itself, could not undo the mischief that had been done. Little did she dream during their pleasant intercourse that he, Frank Lister, loved her dearly in secret. How- ever, he could see that her young heart, with all its wealth of affection, was given to Charlie Holmes; so, like the manly young fellow that he was, he schooled names to look upon her in the light of a dear sister only. And this was to be their parting! So bitter did he feel at this irreparable loss that he actually cried like a child. Through his tears he watched the river for some sign of her, and amid the foaming hurly-burly of the waving waters thought he saw a white hand waved in token of an eternal adieu. Someone emerged from the forest and hailed him. He started like a man suddenly awakened from a dream. “Have you seen Flinter and the other fellows?” asked Bob Greene. “I missed them coming through this confounded forest after that murderer, Charlie Holmes.” Drying his eyes secretly, Frank asked, hoarsely: “Who are you and what is Flinter to you that you speak of him so familiarly P ” “Oh, my name is Robert Greene, and Flinter is my uncle,” he answered, flippantly. “It’s useless remaining here any longer, mister, let me tell you.” “Why, might I ask P” “Because the murderer has met his doom. He escaped before he could be lynched, so he was shot instead, and fell into the river. Are you glad, mister?” “No; but surely Charlie is not dead.” “Isn't he though? I wouldn’t change places with him for a trifle, you bet!” “Who shot him — did you?” asked Frank, with Still in print and now ready, Nos. 1 and 2 of the Grand Story, “Jack Easy’s Schooldays,” with the Coloured Plate given away. Price One Penny. comiclooks.cormn