The Yankee Champion — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

_ THE YANKEE CHAMPION. rhe 86 CHAPTER VI, THE TORY’S LEAGUE—THE SUSPICION. . It was on a dark, cold rainy night that a party of six men were assembled around a small table in the back room of the old Tory’s house. At the head of the table sat Silas Ryan, the leader of the traitors. He was a heavily built, gray-headed man, with high cheek bones, small gray eyes, and a countenance as sinister as one could find in the State Prison. Next to him sat a tall, red-headed, bony, muscular man, whom he called Mason. The next in order was the most gentlemanly appearing of the lot, but his smoothly combed black hair, and his oily look- ing countenance stamped him as a ready tool of subtle villainy. His name was Baxter. The next, a short, snub-nosed fellow, was named Goss. The next was a Mr. Dow, a corpulent, red-faced man, whose nose betrayed its oft approximation to the brandy bottle. Last, but not least in subtle cunning, was a fellow named Wimper, who showed by his looks, that he was more than half Indian. “Now, gentlemen,’’ said old Silas Ryan, tapping the table with the bottom of a pewter tankard, from the depths of which he had just drawn a heavy draught of punch, “let us to business. Everything is quiet about here, and we shall not be disturbed. First of all, what ee transpired here since I have been gone?’’ “Not much of consequence,”’ replied Baxter. “Yes, there has,’’ said Dow, whose brandy-bloated cheeks fairly shook with the intelligence he had to communicate. Gomicboo ‘S (el) nm