Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

—=- DARKE DARRELL. _ pega | An odd choice of a profession, perhaps; but the idea had taken possession of him, and he could not get rid of it. Half an hour later saw him at the detective bureau, hat in hand, respectfully waiting to be heard. He had announced his errand, and a smile of derision had passed from lip to lip. The announcement had reached the ears of Mr. Vincent Marks, then chief of the force, and he now and then lifted his eyes from the papers in front of him, and surveyed the ~ lad in a keen, estimating manner. The chief was a small, spare man, with sharp, twinkling eyes, overhanging brows, thick gray hair, nervous movye- ments, quick in settling all claims upon his attention, low in speech, and constantly and habitually wary. ‘«“You want to be a detective?” Darke heard some one say. He gave a start, looked up, and there stood Mr. Marks. ‘Yes, sir,” he promptly answered, and wondered how the chief knew. “Why?” «© Tn order to maintain my mother,” replied Darke. ‘«*That’s commendable enough,” decided: Mr. Marks. «< Plenty of other avenues open, though. Men hardly ever serve an apprenticeship in this business, unless accumulat- ing experience can be called that. ‘hey take to it at once. It is an endowment, my lad.” Darke listened closely, looking squarely into the chief's face. ‘‘Well—maybe I have been called,” he said, quoting Jeff’s words. _ _ Especially fitted, do you mean?” scanning Darke in a pleased way. ‘‘ Perhaps youare. Perhaps you can tell me some of the requisites?” ‘* Capacity is one,” ventured Darke. ‘Too general,” declared Mr. Marks, Capacity is nec- GEomMmichbooks (E(0)