The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1934-06-18
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Receiving an Inheritance OF seven
Barty. son Of John BartY.- the former
champion prize fighter of England. de-
cides to become gentleman ratner
than follow the fighting game. he pests
his father in duel O Of fists The as so me
choice of a career. Natty Bell. another
former champion, has aided the father in
- After After the light, Bsrnabss changes his
surname to Beverley and on his way
to LondSn meetS am nS yo 159eT aoratie
Bellasis, a gentleman. and FRIEND OF
Sir Mortimer Carnaby. s,a
Finding Sir Mortimer, whom ne o1o
not know at the time. ieering over the
form of Lady Cleone Meredith apparent
ly unconscious as result OF Tan lL I'm
a horse, young Barty KNOCKS OUT the
The trip to London is resumed with
young Bellasis as a companions beFe icy
tests his companion in a battle OF ISIS ISIS
after the lie had been passed over Inc Inc
ability of the prize fighters son. Inc
Both love LADY CIeone Bellasis quits
the trip to press his courtshlp. Barnapas'
however, decides to continue on 10 Loh-
don He engages Peterby, former poacn-
err as valet. Encountering Chichester,
rogue, who is annoying Clemency, an
inn maid, Barnahas bluffs him TO escape
a pistol duel. Meeting Lady Cleone
again Barnabas declares his love for her
and promises that on his arrival in Lon
don he will seek to aid her brotner, VINO
INSTALLMENT THIRTY-EIGHT
(Continued)
Now" said Barnabas, "the Ten
terden coach, and London"
0F all the lions that ever existed,
~ painted or otherwise, white
lions, blue lions, black, green, or
red lions, surely never was there one
like the White Lion at Tenterden.
For he was such a remarkably
placid lion, although precariouSly
balanced upon the extreme point
of one claw, and he stared down
at all and sundry with such round,
inquiring eyes, as much as to say:
who are you? What's your IA
Their? Where are you going?"
Indeed, so very inquiSitive was he
that his very tail had writhed it
self into a note of interrogation,
and, like a certain historical per-
sonage, was forever asking a ques-
ton. Tonight he had singled out
Barnabas from the throng, and was
positively bombarding him with
questions, as:
Dark or fair? Tall or short?
Does she love you? Will she re-
member you? Will she kiss YOU
next time? Aha! will she, will she?"
But here, feeling a touch upon
his arm, Barnabas turned to find
Peterby at his elbow, and thus once
more became aware of the hubbub
about him.
BOX seat, sir; next to the coach
mani" says Peterby above the din,
for voices were shouting, horses
snorting and stamping, ostlers are
hurrying here, running there, and
swearing everywhere; walters and
serving maids are lodging to and
fro, and all is hurry and hustle, for
the night mail is on the eve of de-
parture for London.
Throned above all this clamor,
calmly aloof, yet withal watchful of
eye, sits the coachman, beshawled
to the ears of him, hated to the
eyes of him, and in a wondrous coat
of many capes; ponderouS man,
hoarse of voice and notified of face,
who, having swallowed his hot rum
and water in three leisurely gulps,
losses down the glass to the waiting
pot-boy (and very nearly hits a
fussy little gentleman in green
spencer, who carries a hat-boX in
one hand and bullying valise in
the other, and who ducks indig-
nantly, but just in time), signs,
shakes his head, and proceeds to
rewind the shawl about his neck
neck and chin, and to belt himself
into his seat, throwing an occa-
sional encouraging curse to the per-
spring ostlers below.
"Coachmanw cries the fusSy
gentleman, "hi, coachman!"
The Marks seems bit fresh
tonight, Sam" says Mottleface af-
fably to one of the oStlers.
Fresh" exclaims that worthy as
the Marquis rears again. fresh, I
believe you-burn is, bones!"
"Driver!" shouts the fussy gentle
man, "driver!"
why then, bear i'm up very
short, Sam"
"Driverr' roars the fuSsy little