Detective Bob Bridger — page 210: what you’re looking at

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

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. 203 “Tom, the Frog,” carried his right arm ina sling, and his face was adorned with several patches of court-plaster, in evidence of his fall through the trap. When the doors had been secured, and the lights turned low, the party ascended to the “sawdust” den above, and lighting a candle, took seats about the table. ‘“T’ve explained to you,” began Goucher, “all the events of my trip to the country save an inkling which I twigged, pointing toward business—in fact toward a job which bids fair to pay good. The safest job, in truth it is, that ever was aimed against a ‘boodle’ burdened safe.” “A job, eh?” said Ted, the bartender, edging eagerly to- ward Goucher. “You’re just like any other ‘freshman’ that has aspira- tions to try his hand as a ‘cracksman,’” continued “Tom, the Frog.” “But when you’ve been as far into the mill as I’ve been, you won’t jump so quick at what at best is bloody, tough work.” “No growlin’ now, Tom, boy,’ quoth OUCAeE. “It wasn’t me that put you in the hole.” “No—but I laid a day stiff from the business, ‘ond am pretty well broke up yet just the same.’ “The more reason your heart should be cheered by a prospect of good ‘swag.’ But seeing that you’re hurt, we must take Ted along to do your work, and Dutch Hen can look after the bar.” “Well, out with it—what is it?” growled “Tom, the Frog,” squirming from a sudden twitch of pain in his broken arm. “Muggins has gota safe in the room back of the old- clothes store, that’s just bustin’ ripe with ‘boodle’—bonds, greenbacks, watches, diamonds, and the whole of it’s been got so ‘crooked’ that he dare not ‘squeal’ if he lost it. The ‘confoundland’ dog’s dead, and I’ve got the signal that’s open-sesame on his door.”’ “The dog’s dead, eh?” asked “Tom, the Frog,” his eyes now flashing eagerly, and his aching member forgotten. “Yes, the dog is dead.” “How do you know ?” “TI know, and there’s no particular use of recounting here a serial story about it. The dog’s dead, and I know it, or I wouldn’t say so.” “Good. What’s the signal ?” “A tap on Rachel’s window.” “Who opens the door ?” “She does,” Eomilichbooks: m (E()