Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

74 DARKE DARRELL. CHAPTER XIV. A MODEL POLICEMAN. Mr. Pedro Cassandra joined his wife in the hall. Why, how is this? the reader may ask. Was not Pedro Cassandra killed by the railroad accident? | The man who was killed was not the real Pedro Cassan- dra. That was not his right name, and he had no claim to it whatsoever. Mrs. Cassandra was handsomely attired, her dress neat, elegant, and fashionabie in all its appointments. A little boy, just as elegantly dressed, stood beside her; and one glance at the face of the boy would have convinced even a casual observer that he was nea in kin to the Italian-faced little girl just then locked up in a room of Aunt Carlina’s residence. Mr. Pedro Cassandra was an erect, finely formed man, slightly feeble-looking, considerably older than his wife, yet with but very few gray hairs in his head, beard, or mus- tache. He carried a gold-headed cane, and a massive gold chain was looped across his satin vest. He had left the doors of the parlor open as he stepped into the hall, and, from a glimpse to be had of the apart- ment, it was to be seen that the Cassandras were wealthy. He tugged at his tightly fitting glove, and looked fondly at his wife. “Tam quite ready, my dear,” he said, his voice sweet, and with scarcely any foreign accent. ‘There is one thing you must promise me, Pedro,” said his wife, more determinedly than appealingly. Eomicbooks.com