Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 151 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 151: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis: "Trouble in the Wind," Page 135 This is a page of running prose from a serialized narrative. The text depicts a tense scene in which a character named Troupe discusses sending for medical help for a sick boy named Tom Calvert, who is hidden in a cave on the Blue Ridge near Hornbuckle's Clearing. Troupe writes a message on a piece of boot leather and fastens it to a dog's collar (apparently named Easta) to carry to an armed posse. The passage then shifts to Troupe traveling to Charlottesville at nightfall, approaching a mansion through shrubbery and peering through a library window, where he observes the arrival of Dr. Pratt. The narrative involves apparent conflict with "Tories" and suggests a Revolutionary War-era setting.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
TROUBLE IN THE WIND 135 Troupe, who had looked the Terror in the face often and over, whispered to Unaka with twisting lips, “Can it be?” Unaka shook his head. “It’s rather like asking a man to come out and be mur- dered — and [| dare not scatter contagion — but Tom Calvert needs a doctor; and a doctor’s got to come!” To the lynx-eyed Cherokee, holding the sick boy in his arms, he gave some last charges. “Tf the Tories should pick me off — you would not leave him —nor could you get him up the cliff without help. What on earth shall we do about that?” Unaka pointed to East-ta-tubbee. Troupe’s voice was husky, “What! Do you mean he’ll go home if you send him?”’ A nod from the Indian boy was answered with a fervent “Thank God!” He cut a piece of white kid from one of his fair-top boots, and penciled a message calling for an armed posse to come to the relief of Tom Anderson and Unaka; in dire straits; cave in the cliffs two hundred yards north of Hornbuckle’s Clearing, on the Blue Ridge. He gave the message to Unaka. “Fasten it to Kasta’s collar with some of those leather thongs. Make it everlastingly secure! If I’m not back by daylight, start him off!’’ — wringing Unaka’s hand. And he gave one appealing glance at this queer image of Deliv- erance, —if the worst came to the worst, —a little ragged, wiry Indian dog! He “shucked his coat,” lest epaulets and gold lace make a target for bullets, and was off. Dark was coming when he walked briskly through the unlighted streets of Charlottesville. There was the big old house, behind its hedges of clipped cedars. He passed quietly through the dense shrubbery and halted before the library window. Presently candles; and the familiar inte- rior was before those watching eyes. A few minutes more, and the master of the house came in. Gazing eagerly at his old friend, Troupe’s strained face relaxed. A peal of the bell startled the prim stillness of the old mansion. A serv- ant opened the door to visitors. Dr. Pratt got upon his GOMiGsoo cS (CO) mn