Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 117: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

108 DARKE DARRELL. He pressed nearer to the ropes, his wife and little Vas- car at his side. ‘© A fire—can’t you see?” was the first gruff answer to his inquiry. . Mr. Cassandra turned to a policeman with a more genial face. «“What else?” he asked. ‘* Are not those two men in irons?” pointing into the space inclosed by the ropes. «They belong to a gang of counterfeiters,” replied the policeman. ‘‘A descent has just been made upon their den.” Mrs. Cassandra suppressed a scream, and swiftly brought her hands together. ‘* Leotine in a house of that character!” she exclaimed. ‘‘ Was there anything seen of a little girl?” Mr. Cassan- dra asked. ‘“‘T believe there was,” replied the policeman, thinking a moment. ‘‘She ran out of the front door. It is supposed she set the house on fire.” ‘“« Where is she now?” asked Mrs. Cassandra. ‘“<'That’s to find out,” answered the man. ‘* The detec- tives made a dive for her, but she effected her escape through the crowd.” ‘< Who owns the house?” “J don’t know, sir. It was occupied by the leader of the gang, an Italian by the name of Pedro Cassandra.” As may be expected, the real Pedro Cassandra recoiled with astonishment. ‘That is my name,” gasped he. “Qh, it is!” and the policeman keenly eyed him. “‘ Per- haps you are the last man who ought to ask questions.” | “Pedro,” said Mrs. Cassandra, loud enough for the policeman to hear, “‘ the scoundrel not only stole our child, but our name also. That explains one or two singular let- comicbooks-com