Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 183 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 183: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose (page 165) from a penny dreadful titled *The Black Dragoons*. The text describes a violent confrontation in which cavalry troops intervene to stop a mob from executing an Indian man named Unaka. A military captain orders the chaos stopped and demands the prisoner step forward, revealing himself as young Anderson of Virginia. The captain recognizes Anderson's voice and identifies himself as Peake Dangeridge, claiming to have been Audley Anderson's best friend. The passage appears to depict a Revolutionary War-era scene involving British forces, American colonists, and Native Americans, written in sensational melodramatic style typical of Victorian serial fiction.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE Brack Dracoons” . 165 Above the heads of the rabble, her white cottonade “coat” blood-red in the sunset, she stood — waving frantic arms — The dust-cloud rolled down upon them. The bray of a trumpet cut through the mob of struggling, swaying, panting men. lhey were overpowering an Indian. But Unaka still had his back against that tree, and the scalp- ine-knife was doing execution! “Clear the road!” com- manded a ringing voice. [he noses of the cavalry horses were hunching the crowd. There was a lurching move- ment. Half a dozen men fell back from the persimmon tree. ~One man did not stir— a bleeding savage who stood with his back to the trunk of the gallows tree. He was prodded with bayonet wounds. But his knife was in his hand. Yor an instant the captain of the troop of horse saw nothing but this furious spectacle. “Sergeant Shea! What’s the matter here?”’ “Histin’ up a spy, Captain. Half-breed. Totin’ British dispatches! Cherokee was ugly: fout like a black bear with the dogs on him —” “Sergeant, | order you to arrest any man who renews this fight. Let the prisoner come forward.” Out of the breathless crowd stepped a dark, close- cropped fellow. “Who are you?”’ “Anderson, of Oxheart Plantation, Albemarle, Vir- inia.”’ : “Great God! I’d know that voice anywhere. It is an Anderson!”’ “ Audley Anderson’s youngest son.”’ “Boy! How did this come about ?”’ . “T’ve been a prisoner in the hands of the Tories for more than four months. That’s how I come by my black hide and British dispatches.”’ “Audley Anderson was the best friend I ever had,” stretching out his strong hand. “My name’s Dangeridge.” A splendid-looking fellow, this! “Can this be Peake Dangeridge—who drilled the CORNICM@OO® SS (E(©) m