Spring Heeled Jack | Page 3

they could not succeed in securing his apprehension. There could be no possible doubt that there was very little exaggeration in the extraordinary statements as to Spring-Heeled Jack's antics.
A bet of two hundred pounds, which became the talk of the clubs and coffee-houses, did more to add to Jack's reputation for supernatural powers than all the talk of mail-coach guards, market people, and servant girls.
A party of gentlemen were travelling by the then newly-opened London and North-Western Railway.
As they neared the northern end of the Primrose Hill tunnel they observed the figure of Jack sitting on a post, looking exactly as his Satanic Majesty is usually represented in picture books or on the stage.
"By Jove! there's Spring-Heeled Jack," cried Colonel Fortescue, one of the travellers.
"Yes," cried Major Howard, one of his companions, "and I'll bet you two hundred pounds even that he's at the other end of the tunnel when we arrive there."
"Done!" cried the colonel.
And sure enough as the train emerged once more into the open air there was Spring-Heeled Jack at the side of the line, his long moustaches twirled up the sides of his prominent nose, and stream of sulphurous flame seeming to pour out from between his lips.
Another instant and he had disappeared..
The whole party in the train were almost paralysed for a time, although most of them had "set their squadron in the field," and hardly knew what fear meant.
Colonel Fortescue handed the major the two hundred pounds, and the affair became a nine-days' wonder.
The solution was, no doubt, simple enough.
Spring-Heeled Jack had sprung on to the moving train at the rear, and during its passage through the tunnel had made his way to the front, and then, with a bound, had made his appearance in front of the advancing train.
Be this as it may, the unimpeachable evidence of men of position, like the gallant officers, backed up, as it was, by the payment and receipt of the two hundred pounds, brought Jack with a bound, like one from his own spring heels, to the utmost pinnacle of notorious fame.
We have no particulars of the exact mechanism that enabled Spring- heeled Jack to make such extraordinary bounds.
To jump clear over a stage coach, with its usual complement of passengers on top, was as easy to him as stepping across a gutter would be to any ordinary man.
The secret of these boots had died with the inventor, and perhaps it is as well.
We have no doubt that if those boots were purchasable articles many of our readers would be tempted to leave off taking in the Boy's STANDARD, so as to be able to save up more pennies towards the purchase of a pair.
Fancy, if you can, what would be the consequence of a small army of Spring-heels in every district.
To return, however, to our hero.
His dress was most striking.
It consisted of a tight-fitting garment, which covered him from his neck to his feet.
This garment was of a blood-red colour.
One foot was encased in a high-heeled, pointed shoe, while the other was hidden in a peculiar affair, something like a cow's hoof, in imitation, no doubt, of the "cloven hoof" of Satan. It was generally supposed that the "springing" mechanism was contained in that hoof.
He wore a very small black cap on his head, in which was fastened one bright crimson feather.
The upper part of his face was covered with black domino.
When not in action the whole was concealed by an enormous black cloak, with one hood, and which literally covered him from head to foot.
He did not always confine himself to this dress though, for sometimes he would place the head of an animal, constructed out of paper and plaster, over his own, and make changes in his attire.
Still, the above was his favourite costume, and our readers may imagine it was a most effective one for Jack's purpose.
These are almost all the published facts about this extraordinary man.
But we have been favoured by the descendants of Spring-Heeled Jack with the perusal of his "Journal" or "Confessions," call it which you will.
The only condition imposed upon us in return for this very great favour is that we shall conceal the real name of the hero of this truly extraordinary story.
The reason for this secresy is obvious.
The descendants of Spring-Heeled Jack are at the present time large landed proprietors in South of England, and although had it not been for our hero's exploits they would not at the present time be occupying that position, still one can hardly wonder at their not wishing the real name of Spring-Heeled Jack to become known.
As it will, however, be necessary for the proper unravelling of our story that some name should be used we will bestow upon our hero the name of Dacre.
Jack Dacre was the son of a