Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 144 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 144: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 128: Running Prose from "Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil" This is a page of running narrative prose from a Victorian penny dreadful. Two men, Tom and Troupe, are reunited after time apart. Troupe listens intently as Tom recounts events beginning in November 1779, including stories of Lord Leslie's ingratitude, Egger's crimes, a branding-iron incident, and the death of someone named Hornbuckle. The passage describes their emotional reactions—Troupe's anger at the injustices and his vow of vengeance—before he briefly leaves, asking Tom if he has a key to something. The text emphasizes their bond and Tom's noble character.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
128 Tom ANpDERSON, Dare-DeEvIL laughed — I heard your voice — knew it was you! I felt -as I did that night at Fort Pitt, when the old Osage whaled me over the head with his stone tommy — I felt stunned.” They looked into each other’s eyes, and laughed aloud. The exhilaration of the supreme moment flushed them like wine. They were once more together! Was not that com- pensation for everything? ‘Troupe’s story was followed by rapid-fire questions. ‘Tom could give no news of the home- folk; nor had Troupe any late accounts from Major Ander- son. An old letter dated “Princeton” was intact in Troupe’s pocket. He promised to put it into [om’s hands as soon as the latter had told his story. “Go ahead, my dear boy. For Heaven’s sake, tell me how you came here.”’ Troupe stretched himself before the fire. Tom, surveying him proudly, thought, “Never was there a nobler, gallanter fellow since God made man.” He began, as this history begins, with the opening days of No- vember, 1779.He omitted no essential. Troupe listened with fierce emotion. The live red drove over his face as he heard of Lord Leslie’s ingratitude, of Egger’s infamies. But he went white at the story of the branding-iron. “Ill take vengeance on that wretch with my own hands — before he sees the inside of a jail.” ‘T’ll take care of him when we get down to the valley,” the other answered. At length the recital included what had happened that day, ending with the death of Hornbuckle. Now Troupe knew what was behind the chained door. He stared at it with a queer look. There was a red spark in his eyes. He wrung l’om’s hand. ‘Tom Calvert, you’ve got the heart of one of Arthur’s knights. I swear it!” And under his brown hide Tom blushed. “The heart “fs a ane Cavalier is good enough for me. God send me that!” “Going over yonder,” nodding toward the cabin. “Back in a minute. Got the key?” Troupe was only a EOMMICLOOOKS.(€© m