Jack and His Seven Foes — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

an 62 <¢if he makes another remark lke that, throw him overboard. ‘These men are hunters.”’ : “A rough lot,” said the Panther. “But sure to have some erub and good things with them,” returned the Swageerer. “‘ Now to perform the ship- wreck trick. Look sickly, all of you. Whiten old Panty with a kick-in the ribs. Sneezer always carries his white hon in his cheeks.” The Panther did as he was bidden, and a ferocious kick laid the Pantaloon in the bottom of the boat groaning and rolling his eyes. “ He'll do,’ grinned the Swaggerer ; “here's my afflicted father, gentlemen, whose age was against his bearing the exposure and fatigue. Father dear, bear up—help is at hand.” He raised the exasperated Pantaloon up alittle, and put his head upon his_ shoulder. — “Now you move, you old beggar,” he said, “and Vil give you a taste of cold steel between your ribs. Panther, whiten your cheeks—Il know you can do Ge Lhe Panther first grinned, then com- posed his visage, and with a tremendous effort drove the blood from his face. The‘amazed and terrified Sneezer saw it die out from under the tan of his cheeks, and leave nim hke the corpse of a mulatto. “Will that do?” he asked. ‘‘ Good,” said the Swageerer. “ Now pull in, Sneezer, and pull your hardest, go that you really may be pumped when JACK AND HIS SEVEN FOES. we touch land. They’ve spotted us, and are gathered together i in a cluster. os Mather dea 1’? he said, turning to the Pantaloon, with the mocking smile | of a demon. : “What now?” groanedthe Pantaloon. “Do you feel better P ”’ ““ No, I don’t.” “<V’m sorry for that; you must have a little more physic. Lie down, Panther, and scratch his calves with your knife. Bleeding hmbs will mace him interest- INO: 2 % Have mercy on me,’ groaned the wretched old man. ‘I’m as ill as you hike—dying, dead. Let me alone.” “ One little touch,” said the Panther,” pricking him with his knife out of sheer malice. ‘Ah, for an old one, he bleeds pretty well.” “ We are nearing land, father dear,” said the Swaggerer; “ groan and look thanktul, you “old 3 image. Scan orear easily,’ 23 said the Pantaloon, ‘‘and I’ll try to look thank- | ful. “The strangers on the shore are Spanish,” said the Swaggerer. ‘“‘ Now to see what sort of welcome we shall eet. Remember, all of you, that I’m spokesman. If they speak Spanish, I can answer them.” ‘“‘ But we sha’n’t understand,”’ said the sneezer. “ Ail you’ve got to do is to look as if you were dying,’ replied the Swaeeerer, “and leave the rest to me.” And as he spoke, the boat touched land, and a body of half-caste Spaniards, numbering about a dozen, lounged towards them with careless grace. COPA AD OOS PD PD RPT OOD 89 LOD GD HE? CPP P8 O73 EGY LTA OIA LIE at ween CHAPTER WELCOME HELP—OTHER FRIENDS OF Tue foremost man was grey-headed, and his drooping o moustache was as white as snow. tie may have been sixty years of age, but seemed to have retained the fire of his youth, and wore his Mexican costume jauntily. he others behind him were men of various ages, down to a lad of sixteen, ar all wore the sombrero, shirt, jacket, ash, knee-breeches, and boots with bibves spurs. ANOTH XALY. COLOUR—IS IT CHANCE OR FATE? Yc) py Links The only variation in their dresses was in the colour of the material brown, red, blue, or green, according to the wearer’s fancy. The Swageerer, with the Pantaloon’s head still upon his shoulder, made signs of distress. The Panther looked up with a livid face, and the Sneezer oroaned. “Senor,” said the leader, speaking in very good English, “ your servant.” COMIC MIOOKS.EO