Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 164 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 164: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a page of running prose from Chapter XVIII of a Victorian penny dreadful. The text describes Tom awakening in a cabin after sleeping on corn-husks, finding himself recovered and dressed in a doctor's clothes. He's in his own house but becomes aware of a coachwhip snake escaping through the chimney. The passage then shifts to Tom reflecting on Troupe's daring raid against Tories the previous day, and his anxious thoughts about former inhabitants and Shawnees in nearby fields. The narrative concerns itself with adventure, conflict between colonial factions, and frontier themes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
CHAPTER XVIII HOW TOM CAME AWAY Ir was near daybreak on a Monday when Troupe and Unaka left Tom at Hornbuckle’s Clearing, while they stole upon the Tory camp. It was between midnight and daybreak on Tuesday that ‘Troupe — for the second time in twenty-four hours — put superhuman effort into un- dertaking, and accomplished the second heroic ride. Sun- rise on Tuesday found him a prisoner, in the hands of the Tories. And Tom! Destiny had something up her sleeve when Tom was on — always! : Soundly enough he slept on that heap of corn-husks in the cabin— the sweet, healing sleep of convalescence. When he opened his eyes it was sunrise. How wonderfully invigorated he felt! He surveyed his ruffled shirt, fair- topped boots, and suit of snuff-colored broadcloth with a smile. “Selections from the doctor’s own wardrobe, of course! God bless him!” He looked to the priming of his arms, and dropped back on the shuck-pile. “‘ By the way, I’m in my own house,” laughing. There.was a prolonged, smooth, gliding sound — that, once heard, is never for- gotten. There it was! A coachwhip was letting himself out — by the bolt— through a hole in the chimney. “They don’t seem to know a fellow’s house is his castle.”’ That another intruder — a Terrific Power — was even now approaching to dispossess him of his own, Tom could not foresee. The long day wore out. “It was a mad thing to go and smoke the Tories out of their hole — like that!”’ Yet he knew the daring of it had led to the doing of it, and thrilled in sympathy with Troupe. Oh, the heavy, heavy hours! He made mental pictures of the folk who had once housed here. Out there, in the forgotten fields, the Shawnees had hammered down CORMIEIOOKS (EC) m