CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR
CONTENTS.
Chap. Page
I. WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER! 9
II. A COLD SWIM, 25
III. A CRIPPLE BOY, 42
IV. AN ADOPTED CHILD, 58
V. A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION, 75
VI. AT NEW ORLEANS, 92
VII. ON THE MISSISSIPPI, 107
VIII. STARTING FOR THE WEST, 127
IX. ON THE PLAINS, 154
X. A BUFFALO STORY, 173
XI. HOW DICK LOST HIS SCALP, 186
XII. THE ATTACK ON THE CARAVAN, 206
XIII. AT THE GOLD-FIELDS, 223
XIV. CAPTAIN BAYLEY, 238
XV. THE MISSING HEIR, 253
XVI. JOHN HOLL, DUST CONTRACTOR, 268
XVII. THE LONELY DIGGERS, 285
XVIII. A DREAM VERIFIED, 306
XIX. STRIKING IT RICH, 324
XX. A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD, 341
XXI. HAPPY MEETINGS, 360
XXII. CLEARED AT LAST, 374
CHAPTER I.
WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER!
A CRIPPLE boy was sitting in a box on four low wheels, in a little room
in a small street in Westminster; his age was some fifteen or sixteen
years; his face was clear-cut and intelligent, and was altogether free
from the expression either of discontent or of shrinking sadness so
often seen in the face of those afflicted. Had he been sitting on a
chair at a table, indeed, he would have been remarked as a handsome and
well-grown young fellow; his shoulders were broad, his arms powerful,
and his head erect. He had not been born a cripple, but had been
disabled for life, when a tiny child, by a cart passing over his legs
above the knees. He was talking to a lad a year or so younger than
himself, while a strong, hearty-looking woman, somewhat past middle age,
stood at a wash-tub.
"What is all that noise about?" the cripple exclaimed, as an uproar was
heard in the street at some little distance from the house.
"Drink, as usual, I suppose," the woman said.
The younger lad ran to the door.
"No, mother; it's them scholars a-coming back from cricket. Ain't there
a fight jist!"
The cripple wheeled his box to the door, and then taking a pair of
crutches which rested in hooks at its side when not wanted, swung
himself from the box, and propped himself in the doorway so as to
command a view down the street.
It was indeed a serious fight. A party of Westminster boys, on their way
back from their cricket-ground in St. Vincent's Square, had been
attacked by the "skies." The quarrel was an old standing one, but had
broken out afresh from a thrashing which one of the older lads had
administered on the previous day to a young chimney-sweep about his own
age, who had taken possession of the cricket-ball when it had been
knocked into the roadway, and had, with much strong language, refused to
throw it back when requested.
The friends of the sweep determined to retaliate upon the following day,
and gathered so threateningly round the gate that, instead of the boys
coming home in twos and threes, as was their wont, when playtime
expired, they returned in a body. They were some forty in number, and
varied in age from the little fags of the Under School, ten or twelve
years old, to brawny muscular young fellows of seventeen or eighteen,
senior Queen's Scholars, or Sixth Form town boys. The Queen's Scholars
were in their caps and gowns, the town boys were in ordinary attire, a
few only having flannel cricketing trousers.
1103519989
Chap. Page
I. WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER! 9
II. A COLD SWIM, 25
III. A CRIPPLE BOY, 42
IV. AN ADOPTED CHILD, 58
V. A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION, 75
VI. AT NEW ORLEANS, 92
VII. ON THE MISSISSIPPI, 107
VIII. STARTING FOR THE WEST, 127
IX. ON THE PLAINS, 154
X. A BUFFALO STORY, 173
XI. HOW DICK LOST HIS SCALP, 186
XII. THE ATTACK ON THE CARAVAN, 206
XIII. AT THE GOLD-FIELDS, 223
XIV. CAPTAIN BAYLEY, 238
XV. THE MISSING HEIR, 253
XVI. JOHN HOLL, DUST CONTRACTOR, 268
XVII. THE LONELY DIGGERS, 285
XVIII. A DREAM VERIFIED, 306
XIX. STRIKING IT RICH, 324
XX. A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD, 341
XXI. HAPPY MEETINGS, 360
XXII. CLEARED AT LAST, 374
CHAPTER I.
WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER!
A CRIPPLE boy was sitting in a box on four low wheels, in a little room
in a small street in Westminster; his age was some fifteen or sixteen
years; his face was clear-cut and intelligent, and was altogether free
from the expression either of discontent or of shrinking sadness so
often seen in the face of those afflicted. Had he been sitting on a
chair at a table, indeed, he would have been remarked as a handsome and
well-grown young fellow; his shoulders were broad, his arms powerful,
and his head erect. He had not been born a cripple, but had been
disabled for life, when a tiny child, by a cart passing over his legs
above the knees. He was talking to a lad a year or so younger than
himself, while a strong, hearty-looking woman, somewhat past middle age,
stood at a wash-tub.
"What is all that noise about?" the cripple exclaimed, as an uproar was
heard in the street at some little distance from the house.
"Drink, as usual, I suppose," the woman said.
The younger lad ran to the door.
"No, mother; it's them scholars a-coming back from cricket. Ain't there
a fight jist!"
The cripple wheeled his box to the door, and then taking a pair of
crutches which rested in hooks at its side when not wanted, swung
himself from the box, and propped himself in the doorway so as to
command a view down the street.
It was indeed a serious fight. A party of Westminster boys, on their way
back from their cricket-ground in St. Vincent's Square, had been
attacked by the "skies." The quarrel was an old standing one, but had
broken out afresh from a thrashing which one of the older lads had
administered on the previous day to a young chimney-sweep about his own
age, who had taken possession of the cricket-ball when it had been
knocked into the roadway, and had, with much strong language, refused to
throw it back when requested.
The friends of the sweep determined to retaliate upon the following day,
and gathered so threateningly round the gate that, instead of the boys
coming home in twos and threes, as was their wont, when playtime
expired, they returned in a body. They were some forty in number, and
varied in age from the little fags of the Under School, ten or twelve
years old, to brawny muscular young fellows of seventeen or eighteen,
senior Queen's Scholars, or Sixth Form town boys. The Queen's Scholars
were in their caps and gowns, the town boys were in ordinary attire, a
few only having flannel cricketing trousers.
CAPTAIN BAYLEY'S HEIR
CONTENTS.
Chap. Page
I. WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER! 9
II. A COLD SWIM, 25
III. A CRIPPLE BOY, 42
IV. AN ADOPTED CHILD, 58
V. A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION, 75
VI. AT NEW ORLEANS, 92
VII. ON THE MISSISSIPPI, 107
VIII. STARTING FOR THE WEST, 127
IX. ON THE PLAINS, 154
X. A BUFFALO STORY, 173
XI. HOW DICK LOST HIS SCALP, 186
XII. THE ATTACK ON THE CARAVAN, 206
XIII. AT THE GOLD-FIELDS, 223
XIV. CAPTAIN BAYLEY, 238
XV. THE MISSING HEIR, 253
XVI. JOHN HOLL, DUST CONTRACTOR, 268
XVII. THE LONELY DIGGERS, 285
XVIII. A DREAM VERIFIED, 306
XIX. STRIKING IT RICH, 324
XX. A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD, 341
XXI. HAPPY MEETINGS, 360
XXII. CLEARED AT LAST, 374
CHAPTER I.
WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER!
A CRIPPLE boy was sitting in a box on four low wheels, in a little room
in a small street in Westminster; his age was some fifteen or sixteen
years; his face was clear-cut and intelligent, and was altogether free
from the expression either of discontent or of shrinking sadness so
often seen in the face of those afflicted. Had he been sitting on a
chair at a table, indeed, he would have been remarked as a handsome and
well-grown young fellow; his shoulders were broad, his arms powerful,
and his head erect. He had not been born a cripple, but had been
disabled for life, when a tiny child, by a cart passing over his legs
above the knees. He was talking to a lad a year or so younger than
himself, while a strong, hearty-looking woman, somewhat past middle age,
stood at a wash-tub.
"What is all that noise about?" the cripple exclaimed, as an uproar was
heard in the street at some little distance from the house.
"Drink, as usual, I suppose," the woman said.
The younger lad ran to the door.
"No, mother; it's them scholars a-coming back from cricket. Ain't there
a fight jist!"
The cripple wheeled his box to the door, and then taking a pair of
crutches which rested in hooks at its side when not wanted, swung
himself from the box, and propped himself in the doorway so as to
command a view down the street.
It was indeed a serious fight. A party of Westminster boys, on their way
back from their cricket-ground in St. Vincent's Square, had been
attacked by the "skies." The quarrel was an old standing one, but had
broken out afresh from a thrashing which one of the older lads had
administered on the previous day to a young chimney-sweep about his own
age, who had taken possession of the cricket-ball when it had been
knocked into the roadway, and had, with much strong language, refused to
throw it back when requested.
The friends of the sweep determined to retaliate upon the following day,
and gathered so threateningly round the gate that, instead of the boys
coming home in twos and threes, as was their wont, when playtime
expired, they returned in a body. They were some forty in number, and
varied in age from the little fags of the Under School, ten or twelve
years old, to brawny muscular young fellows of seventeen or eighteen,
senior Queen's Scholars, or Sixth Form town boys. The Queen's Scholars
were in their caps and gowns, the town boys were in ordinary attire, a
few only having flannel cricketing trousers.
Chap. Page
I. WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER! 9
II. A COLD SWIM, 25
III. A CRIPPLE BOY, 42
IV. AN ADOPTED CHILD, 58
V. A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION, 75
VI. AT NEW ORLEANS, 92
VII. ON THE MISSISSIPPI, 107
VIII. STARTING FOR THE WEST, 127
IX. ON THE PLAINS, 154
X. A BUFFALO STORY, 173
XI. HOW DICK LOST HIS SCALP, 186
XII. THE ATTACK ON THE CARAVAN, 206
XIII. AT THE GOLD-FIELDS, 223
XIV. CAPTAIN BAYLEY, 238
XV. THE MISSING HEIR, 253
XVI. JOHN HOLL, DUST CONTRACTOR, 268
XVII. THE LONELY DIGGERS, 285
XVIII. A DREAM VERIFIED, 306
XIX. STRIKING IT RICH, 324
XX. A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD, 341
XXI. HAPPY MEETINGS, 360
XXII. CLEARED AT LAST, 374
CHAPTER I.
WESTMINSTER! WESTMINSTER!
A CRIPPLE boy was sitting in a box on four low wheels, in a little room
in a small street in Westminster; his age was some fifteen or sixteen
years; his face was clear-cut and intelligent, and was altogether free
from the expression either of discontent or of shrinking sadness so
often seen in the face of those afflicted. Had he been sitting on a
chair at a table, indeed, he would have been remarked as a handsome and
well-grown young fellow; his shoulders were broad, his arms powerful,
and his head erect. He had not been born a cripple, but had been
disabled for life, when a tiny child, by a cart passing over his legs
above the knees. He was talking to a lad a year or so younger than
himself, while a strong, hearty-looking woman, somewhat past middle age,
stood at a wash-tub.
"What is all that noise about?" the cripple exclaimed, as an uproar was
heard in the street at some little distance from the house.
"Drink, as usual, I suppose," the woman said.
The younger lad ran to the door.
"No, mother; it's them scholars a-coming back from cricket. Ain't there
a fight jist!"
The cripple wheeled his box to the door, and then taking a pair of
crutches which rested in hooks at its side when not wanted, swung
himself from the box, and propped himself in the doorway so as to
command a view down the street.
It was indeed a serious fight. A party of Westminster boys, on their way
back from their cricket-ground in St. Vincent's Square, had been
attacked by the "skies." The quarrel was an old standing one, but had
broken out afresh from a thrashing which one of the older lads had
administered on the previous day to a young chimney-sweep about his own
age, who had taken possession of the cricket-ball when it had been
knocked into the roadway, and had, with much strong language, refused to
throw it back when requested.
The friends of the sweep determined to retaliate upon the following day,
and gathered so threateningly round the gate that, instead of the boys
coming home in twos and threes, as was their wont, when playtime
expired, they returned in a body. They were some forty in number, and
varied in age from the little fags of the Under School, ten or twelve
years old, to brawny muscular young fellows of seventeen or eighteen,
senior Queen's Scholars, or Sixth Form town boys. The Queen's Scholars
were in their caps and gowns, the town boys were in ordinary attire, a
few only having flannel cricketing trousers.
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940013289215 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | SAP |
| Publication date: | 10/19/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 311 KB |
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