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Read books online » Fiction » Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes by Jr. Horatio Alger (romantic books to read .txt) 📖

Book online «Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes by Jr. Horatio Alger (romantic books to read .txt) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger



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"I'll take the risk," said Andy, coolly.

"Confound him! I thought he'd be frightened," said Fairfax to himself.

"I don't want to kill you," he said, with a further attempt to intimidate Andy.

"I don't mean to let you," said our hero, quietly.

"You are no match for me."

"With a gun I am."

"I don't believe it is loaded."

"If you try to pick up that pistol, I'll convince you; by the powers, I will," said Andy, energetically.

"What is to prevent my taking away the gun from you?"

"Faith," returned Andy, quaintly, "you'll take the powder and ball first, I'm thinkin'."

Fairfax thought so, too, and that was one reason why he concluded not to try it.

It was certainly a provoking position for him.

There lay the pistol on the ground, just at his feet; yet, if he tried to pick it up, the boy would put a bullet through him. It was furthermore provoking to reflect that, had he not stopped to parley with Colonel Preston, he might have secured the money, which he so much desired, before Andy had come up. There was one other resource. He had tried bullying, and without success. He would try cajoling and temptation.

"Look here, boy," he said, "I am a desperate man. I would as leave murder you as not."

"Thank you," said Andy. "But I'd rather not have it done."

"I don't want to hurt you, as I said before, but you mustn't interfere with me."

"Then you mustn't interfere with the colonel."

"I must have the money in his pocketbook."

"Must you? Maybe, I'll have something to say, to that."

"He has eight hundred dollars with him."

"Did he tell you?"

"No matter; I know. If you won't interfere with me, I'll give you two hundred of it."

"Thank you for nothing, then," said Andy, independently. "I'm only a poor Irish boy, but I ain't a thafe, and never mane to be."

"Bravo, Andy!" said Colonel Preston, who had awaited with a little anxiety the result of the offer.

Fairfax stooped suddenly, but before he could get hold of the pistol, Andy struck him on the head with the gun-barrel, causing him to roll over, while, in a quick and adroit movement, he himself got hold of the pistol before Fairfax had recovered from the crack on his head.

"Now," said Andy, triumphantly, with the gun over his shoulder, and presenting the pistol, "lave here mighty quick, or I'll shoot ye."

"Give me back the pistol, then," said the discomfited ruffian.

"I guess not," said Andy.

"It's my property."

"I don't know that. Maybe you took it from some thraveler."

"Give it to me, and I'll go off peaceably."

"I won't take no robber's word," said Andy. "Are you goin'?"

"Give me the pistol. Fire it off, if you like."

"That you may load it again. You don't catch a weasel asleep," answered Andy, shrewdly. "I've a great mind to make you march into the village, and give you up to the perlice."

This suggestion was by no means pleasant for the highwayman, particularly as he reflected that Andy had shown himself a resolute boy, and doubly armed as he now was, it was quite within his power to carry out his threat.

"Don't fire after me," he said.

"I never attack an inimy in the rare," said Andy, who always indulged in the brogue more than usual under exciting circumstances.

I make this explanation, as the reader may have noticed a difference in his dialect at different times.

"We shall meet again, boy!" said Fairfax, menacingly, turning at the distance of a few feet.

"Thank you, sir. You needn't thrubble yourself," said Andy, "I ain't anxious to mate you."

"When we do meet, you'll know it," said the other.

"Maybe I will. Go along wid ye!" said Andy, pointing the pistol at him.

"Don't shoot," said Fairfax, hastily, and he quickened his pace to get out of the way of a dangerous companion.

Andy laughed as the highwayman disappeared in the distance.

"I thought he wouldn't wait long," he said.

"Andy," said Colonel Preston, warmly, "you have behaved like a hero."

"I'm only an Irish boy," said Andy, laughing. "Shure, they don't make heroes of such as I."

"I don't care whether you are Irish or Dutch. You are a hero for all that."

"Shure, sir, it's lucky I was round whin that spalpeen wanted to rob you."

"How did you happen to be out with a gun this afternoon?"

"I got my work all done, and Miss Grant said I might go out shootin' if I wanted. Shure, I didn't expect it 'ud been robbers I would be afther shootin'."

"You came up just in the nick of time. Weren't you afraid?"

"I didn't stop to think of that when I saw that big blackguard p'intin' his pistol at you. I thought I'd have a hand in it myself."

"Jump into the chaise, Andy, and ride home with me."

"What, wid the gun?"

"To be sure. We won't leave the gun. That has done us too good service already to-day."

"I've made something out of it, anyway," said Andy, displaying the pistol, which was silver-mounted, and altogether a very pretty weapon. "It's a regular beauty," he said, with admiration.

"It will be better in your hands than in the real owner's," said Colonel Preston.

By this time Andy was in the chaise, rapidly nearing the village.

"If you hadn't come up just as you did, Andy, I should have been poorer by eight hundred dollars."

"That's a big pile of money," said Andy, who, as we know, was not in the habit of having large sums of money in his own possession.

"It is considerably more than I would like to lose," said Colonel Preston, to whom it was of less importance than to Andy.

"I wonder will I ever have so much money?"

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