Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 268 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 268: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a page of running prose from the penny dreadful *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil* (page 250). The text depicts a dramatic street scene in Charleston where a character named Pink addresses a crowd from a carriage, claiming that Sir Aeneas McIntosh's wound came from a duel rather than assassination. As Tom listens intently, a uniformed soldier suddenly seizes a shabby chaplain and produces a document, speaking in German. The passage emphasizes sensational melodrama through excited crowds, urgent dialogue, and sudden interruption.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
250 Tom ANDERSON, DaARE-DEVIL “God knows!” Sir Harry mopped his forehead. ‘The surgeons won’t let a man of us in yonder. Two of His Majesty’s officers murdered — foully murdered — in one night! Damnable!”’ “Murder? Not a bit of it! Let me tell you, Sir Harry, I was present when Sir Atneas received his wound.” 6¢ Mou When he could be heard above the clamor, Pink stood on the coachman’s box of somebody’s carriage, and looked down on a considerable number of people who regarded him with breathless interest. Pink’s vanity, this time, was “a chunk of luck” for Troupe; for he made a plain state- ment of the facts in the case. If they were eager listeners, think how feverishly Tom hung upon every word and ges- ture of the boy. “Ladies and gentlemen: I am here to tell you this was no assassination! Sir Atneas McIntosh received his wound in a duel!” A sort of sigh burst from his listeners. “‘I was present. Know every circumstance connected with the meeting. Szr Aineas challenged the other man —”’ “His name?f His namer”’ It was like the roar of waters. ‘An officer,” diplomatically. “Colonel Francis Lloyd himself delivered the challenge. The duel was the most masterly, brilliant, and distinguished encounter which has ever taken place in Charleston. After he had been wounded, the baronet — like the brave man he is — ex- claimed to his antagonist: ‘A pretty swordsman, sir! You are! —on the word of a dying man!’”’ A hoarse shout from hundreds of excited men. It was at this instant — Tom listening with his heart pounding — that a stout fellow in red-and-blue uniform, coming up quietly, set foot on the wheel of Sir George Claiborne’s coach, and seized the shabby chaplain. _ “What the devil do you want?” There was a sputter of German. Tom shook his head. The man produced a scrap of paper and held it under a carriage lamp. More German. But the signature was Gomicbooks (E(0) m