Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 134 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 134: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 118 of *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil* This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful. The text depicts dialogue and narrative describing Tom's captivity by a character named Egger, who allegedly planned to kidnap and send him to foreign parts. Tom later discovers a mysterious voice emanating from a hollow tree root that naturally connects to the Tories' Cave—a natural "speaking-tube"—through which he hears news of a British fleet arriving at Savannah during what appears to be the American Revolutionary War. Tom, bound by oath and hidden on a mountain peak, reflects bitterly on his helpless situation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
118 Tom ANDERSON, DarE-DEVIL cawnscrip’ officers gallopin’ by ter ketch up wid Buck Hornbuckle en’ his gang er dam deserters! Egger he’d been dev’lin’ me ter kidnap ye, en’ hide ye in the Tories’ Cave. He wuz triggerin’ ter fool ye out on thur mount- ing —whenst ye walked right inter my han’s. I fetched ye hyur; but I hilt Lum Egger offen ye. I hilt thur whole gang offen ye.” “Answer me! What did Egger propose to do with me!” “Send ye off ter furrin parts, whur ye ’d nuver git back no mo’.” “The devil! I’d like to see the country I could n’t get back from!’’? Sometimes, when our voices beat against the closed doors of the Future, we catch the chuckle of an ugly echo! Even as he spoke, the boy started, under the convic- tion that something mocked him! “I’ll land him in Char- lottesville jail —” “Sometimes er dyin’ man’s got er long arm. Got er secret ter tell ye— whenst I git ready —” the trailing whisper broke off. Going at daylight for water, Tom found the little spring under the linn had again gone dry. And again there was avoice at his ear! a voice that chuckled and gloated over the arrival of a British fleet in Southern waters. A galley from Yorktown had come up to Osborne’s Mill with the news. Fleet lying off Savannah — Sir Henry Clinton’s whole army. Tom listened till his gorge rose. Then he lit- erally unearthed the voice. Scraping away rotting leaves and dried clay, he discovered that the big taproot of the linn was hollow. In wet weather the opening in the hollow root was stoppered with mould. The taproot penetrated one of those lateral passages which wandered off from the main chamber of the Tories’ Cave. It was a speaking- tube formed by the hand of Nature. ‘The British fleet at Savannah! And here am I, bound hand and foot by an oath, hidden away on a mountain- peak; watched by a pack of jackals. Yet — the sole stay of a dying man!” ECONMMICOOOKS.(© m