The Yankee Champion — page 120: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

buried in the darkness of the forest. Let us now return to the Tories. For along time after Baxter left them they sat in a profound si- lence, with their ears turned anxiously toward the door. “Hark !’? whispered Wimper, who sat nearest the door, and whose quick ear caught a light shuffling sound above. “Has he struck?’’ asked Ryan, whose face, by the sickly glare of the few embers that reached above the ashes, looked a livid, ghastly hue. ‘“—sh—ha! That’s a knife-stroke!’’ The Tories started, as if from a trance. The In- dian stole from his chair, and placed his ear at the crack of the door. ‘““There’ll be no noise,” he uttered, after he had remained a moment in his new position. ‘I can hear the death rattle. The blow’s been struck with a sure hand!”’ Five minutes passed away like so many hours, but the assassin returned not. The Tories watched the door most anxiously. | “It’s strange he does not come,’’ said Wimper. “What can he be about?’’ wondered Dow. ‘‘Are you sure you heard him strike?’’ “Yes,’’ returned the Indian. ‘‘You don’t suppose he’d have been all this time doing nothing, do you?”’ “Of course not; but egad, he’s been a long time about what he has done.’’ The old clock in the corner ticked away three minutes more. “Ryan,” said Wimper, ‘‘you’d better go up and von direction, and in a few moments they were see what’s the matter. Baxter can’t have been all- \ THE YANKEE CHAMPION, 113 cS ¢€o comicboo