Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 296 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 296: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Description This is running prose text from page 278 of *Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil*, a Victorian penny dreadful. The passage depicts a heated confrontation between several male characters—Tom, Knatchbull (dressed in white pongee), Bishop Coleridge, and others—centered on a dispute over Knatchbull's purchase of Tom at a slave market and questions about someone's race or status. The scene emphasizes passionate exchanges, wounded pride, and dramatic tension among the assembled men.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
278 Tom ANDERSON, DareE-DEVIL But his small, clean-cut face was tense. His eyes nar- rowed. The Bishop’s big, purple eye rolled from face to face. The passions of men! Here was the drama he loved. The drama of dramas! It was the gratification with which a lame man watches a “high-kicker.”’ De la Jonquiére’s beautiful face changed color like a irl’s. ‘ And the doctor? Why, he cracked the joints of his big, capable, righteous hands with ecstasy. It was better than a cockfight! Tom turned corrosive. What a devouring acid was his vial of wrath! “Then, you are in an unfortunate dilemma!— ehr Victimized!”’ He had found theweak joint in Knatchbull’s armor of im- placable pride. Did they think he was discomfited? He/ “As how?” Knatchbull took a turn through the room, and stood in the center of the group. He was clad from head to heel in white pongee. He was a young fellow of noble stature, with the presence of a sulky Talma. “I got the worth of my two thousand pounds in outbidding two other fools. The excitement of the game is what one wants, not the stakes. In this instance, especially!” The forgathered caught their breath. Knatchbull swung round upon Tom. “As for you! — I bought you in the slave-market. | am your master!” - Tom leaped to his feet. Knatchbull snapped his fingers. “But I make you a present of yourself. Though I show small taste in my se- lection of a keepsake. Eh?” “Knatchbull!’’ Bishop Coleridge was stern. The thin fellow in white cottonades shook with passion. “Your arrogance, sir, is damnable. I defy you to dis- credit the testimony of a physician, the oath of an Ameri- can officer!”’ Macglashan gave tongue. ““He’s white as His Majesty the King. Dinna forget it, Dick!” ECONMMICLOOOKSa(e©) m