Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

(aie DARKE DARRELL. plication he selected the numerals from the card which stood for Fenton. ‘«<My mission is to 1-7-5-12-22-9. whoever that may be,” declared Darke. ‘<I fixed the numbers and their order well in my mind. I couldn’t do otherwise, as nothing else afterward passed Mr. Cassandra’s lips. He was hurt inter- nally, you see.” Everything had followed so naturally that the men were entirely deceived. «‘The message is for Mr. Fenton,” averred one of the men. ‘‘ Written or verbal?” ‘‘ Here,” Darke said, tapping on his forehead. The men smiled. ‘¢Where is Mr. Fenton?” asked Darke. «‘Heis not in, He may be, in half an hour. Come in and be seated.” | Darke stepped into the room, feeling very much re- lieved. But what plausible message could he manufacture for Mr. Fenton? Might he not be still waist-deep in peril? © ‘Dealt any in the stuff?” asked one of the men. ‘* A little,” answered Darke. ““One of T'im’s pupils?” Darke answered by shrugging his shoulders. ‘“‘ How’s this?” stopping beside one of the printing presses, and handing a newly printed bank-bill to Darke. ‘‘ Couldn’t swear that isn’t genuine, eh?” ‘No, replied Darke. ‘<The chief difficulty may be in signing them.” A iS . “Yes. Fenton isn’t as good at that as Mr. Cassandra was.” ““T must get Tim to let me ‘shove’ some of that,” ob- served Darke. “Oh, he'll not forget you. You have a superior master. What Tim Jourdan doesn’t know is hardly worth knowing.” Dhere was a tall, boyish-looking fellow working at the comicbooks.com