A Daughter of Delilah — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

34. “GILBERT ROSEBE®RRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” ‘That mustache, etc., will easily come off, I guess,’’ was the dry response. ‘‘Now, sir, the handcuffs are ready !”’ For a moment Alston’s frame quivered with suppressed fury; then he said, savagely: ‘‘Beware, Mr. Hawkley, or whatever your name may be. I am Edgar Alston, son of Jabez Alston, the New York millionaire. This house belongs to Mrs. Radcliffe, and the lady is my aunt. I believe that you are honestly mistaken, and as I am responsible for that mistake, I am disposed to help you in your search for the right man.”’ ‘‘Go on,’’ smiled Hawkley. “T will tell you this much. The clothes in which he es- caped from the Frankfort Penitentiary are in my dressing-room up stairs. A decoy telegram was sent to me to-day, and took me to Bridgley. To return home at once, I had to walk to Covington, and came through the tunnel. The last train had gone.’’ The detective eyed him warily. ‘When half-way through, I was held up by some fellow —a pistol at my head—and forced to give up my clothing. I preferred doing that to being shot, but I had no idea that my assailant was anything worse than a desperate tramp. He took my hat, and an ordinary dress suit. The rest you know.’”’ ! : Mr. Hawkley lowered his revolver, a growl of disgust escaping him. ‘‘One moment, Mr. Alston,’’ he said. ‘‘Although I am half-convinced, 1am not going to be tricked. Put your hands in these irons while I examine you at close quar- ters. ’’ ‘“Certainly,’’ Edgar laughed, ‘‘but remember that you Gomicbooks (E(0) m