FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60  
61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   >>   >|  
staggered ahead, seeking to recover his balance. Without a doubt he would have done so, but, just then, the floor under his feet ended. With a yell of dismay, the submarine boy tottered, then plunged down, alighting on a bed of soft dirt many feet below. CHAPTER VII JACK FINDS SOMETHING "NEW," ALL RIGHT Jack Benson was on his feet in an instant. An angrier boy it would have been hard to find. From overhead came the sound of a loud guffaw. "Oh, you infernal scoundrel!" raged the submarine boy, shaking his fist in the dark. "W'at am de matter wid yo', w'ite trash?" came the jeering query. "Let me get my hands on you, and I'll show you!" quivered Benson. "Yah! Listen to yo'! Yo' wait er minute, an' Ah'll show yo' a light." Gr-r-r-r! Gr-r-r-r t That sound from overhead was not pleasant. Jack, in the few seconds that were left to him, could only guess as to the cause of the sounds. Then, some fifteen feet over his head, a tiny flame sputtered. This match-end was carried to the wick of the lantern that the yellowish guide had been carrying, and now the light illumined the place into which Jack Benson had fallen. That place was a square-shaped pit, with boarded sides. Up above, on a shelf of flooring, knelt the late guide, grinning down with a look of infernal glee. On either side of the mulatto stood a heavy-jowled bull-dog. Both brutes peered down, showing their teeth in a way to make a timid man's blood run cold. "Put those dogs back and come down here," challenged Jack, shaking his fist. "Come down, and I'll teach you a few things, you rascal!" "Don' yo' shake yo' fist at me, or dem dawgs will sure jump down and tackle yo'," grinned the guide, gripping at the collars of the brutes, which, truly, showed signs of intending to spring below. Jack fell back, his hands dropping to his sides. Had there been but one dog, the submarine boy, with all his grit forced to the surface, might have chosen to face the brute, hoping to despatch it with a well-aimed kick. But with two dogs, both intent on "getting" him, young Benson knew that he would stand the fabled chance of a snow-flake on a red-hot stove. "Dat's right, gemmun, yo' keep cool," observed the mulatto, mockingly. "You've decoyed me--trapped me here with a mess of lies," flung back Captain Jack, angrily. "What's your game?" "Dis am a free lodgin' house--ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the late guide. "Ah's gwine gib yo' er pla
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60  
61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Benson

 

submarine

 

shaking

 

infernal

 
overhead
 

mulatto

 

brutes

 

collars

 

jowled

 

gripping


peered

 

spring

 

showing

 
intending
 
grinned
 
showed
 

rascal

 

things

 

challenged

 

tackle


hoping

 

mockingly

 

decoyed

 
trapped
 

observed

 

gemmun

 
lodgin
 
chuckled
 

angrily

 
Captain

surface
 

chosen

 
despatch
 

forced

 
dropping
 

fabled

 

chance

 
intent
 

lantern

 

guffaw


angrier

 
SOMETHING
 

instant

 

scoundrel

 
jeering
 

matter

 

Without

 

staggered

 
seeking
 

recover