Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

DARKE DARRELL. q7 himself in small change. There’s an empty house over the way, and I saw the cellar window was open as I came by. Just that soon done,” with a wrenching gesture. She understood the gesture better than she did the words. A look of pain crossed her face. ‘‘ Darke, I’d rather starve than have you steal,” she said, solemnly, her lips quivering. ‘‘It’s meaner to beg,” he answered. ‘‘ It’s harder, any- how. [ll do either, or both, sooner than you shouldn’t have food and medicine.” ‘“No, Darke,” with a little shudder. ‘* Promise me that you will never steal.” He stood there, the moody look on his face. He brushed a few flakes of snow from his coat-sleeve, his lips tightly compressed. ‘<T’m weak from hunger now,” he said, ‘‘ but I ain’t car- ing for myself.” ‘‘ Darke, promise me that you will never steal,” anxiously, uneasily. ‘It will be violating the laws of God and man. It will bring disgrace upon us both. You may be de- tected, arrested, imprisoned. What would become of me then?” The yearning look deepened in her feverish eyes as she | watched him, the coal-oil lamp not burning so dimly that it did not light up his face. She saw that he was growing desperate. ‘Promise me, my boy!” her voice, soft, sweet, pleading. ‘<Tt will do me more good than the medicine.” It was a little while before he spoke. “‘T promise, mother,” doggedly, yet positively. ‘© Come here, Darke.” He obeyed, and she drew him to her and kissed him. “¢T never knew Darke Darrell to break his promise yet.” It pleased him to hear her say that. ‘‘ Mother, I never felt so bad as I do to-night—like doing Gomichbooks. co