United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
The ruffian seemed to be as powerless as an infant in his grasp. Knox
then snatched the gun from his hands; but the man, clinging to it, came
up with it. The sergeant shook him off as he would a fly, and he fell
all in a heap on the ground again. Life tossed the weapon over the fence
into the bushes. The brigand sprang to his feet, and with a long knife
in his hand rushed upon his herculean assailant.
Knox bestowed a blow on the arm with the blade at the end of it, which
was heavy enough to break the bone; and the weapon dropped in the road.
Then he seized the brigand by the throat again, and batted him over the
head with his iron fist, causing him to drop limp and senseless on the
ground. The other ruffian, who did not seem to be so desperate a
character, looked as though he were paralyzed by the vigorous treatment
of his companion; but he had by this time recovered enough of his
self-possession to think of his own safety; and he attempted to run by
the Kentuckian, in the direction of the guerillas.
"You're go'n' the wrong way, Chopsticks," said Life, seizing the bridle
of the horse, and bringing him up with a shock which nearly unseated the
rider. "You're bound for the village, and that's the way your go'n',"
continued Knox, as he unslung his carbine, standing in front of the
horse.
"I want to go the other way; and I reckon you'll git hung to one o'
these big trees for what you've jest did," said the second ruffian.
"I ain't go'n' to hang jest yet; and you're go'n' back to the village
whether you want to or not," replied Knox. "If you move without leave
from the commander of this road, a ball from his carbine will worry its
way through that head o' yourn."
[Illustration: "The ruffian seemed to be as powerless as an infant in
his grasp."]
As he spoke, the sergeant wrenched the gun from the hand of the
ruffian, and tossed it after the other. He seemed to be enjoying the
little scene in which he was the principal actor, and he was as unmoved
as though he had been taking his coffee and hard-tack at a camp-fire.
The horse of the disabled brigand still stood within reach; and, picking
up his first victim, he laid him, face down, across the saddle, as he
would have done a bag of grain. Then he led the steed, with his load, to
the side of the uninjured ruffian, and handed the rein to him.
"Now you can go back to the village where you kim from, and take this
load of carri'n with you. If you feel as if you wanted to jine that band
of ruffins as is comin' this way, the lead from this little piece will
ketch you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account