Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 209: what you’re looking at

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

200 GUY HAMMERSLEY. It was a lame expedient, Guy knew. Only a man crazy on one theme could by any possibility be taken in by it. In the greatest suspense he awaited the result. ‘That's so,” exclaimed the major, after an instant’s reflection. ‘‘It zs the twelfth of the month, and I know we had a dozen of those oyster plates. But I heard a crash in the pantry only yesterday, and it is barely possible one of these dishes was in it.” ‘‘ Had you not bettersee at once?” suggested Guy, boldly. ‘‘ These coincidences in dates are very im- portant—to us,” he added under his breath. ‘‘Well, if the ladies will excuse me for a moment, I believe I will,” rejoined the major, after wriggling uneasily in his seat. ‘‘I will be right back.” He rose and stepped, in his quick, nervous fashion, across the hard-wood floor. The china closet was just within the hallway, and as soon as he had dis- appeared within it, ‘‘ Let us fly,” gasped Mrs. West- more, half rising from her chair. Guy shook his head, laid his finger across his lips, and then rising, stole on tiptoe towards the hallway. He heard the rattle of crockery just as he reached it, then seizing the door knob at his left, he suddenly ran it forward and turned the key in the lock inside of half a minute. Amy gave a faint scream, and Mrs. Westmore got up and hurried to her side. Guy only waited long enough to make sure that the door was securely locked, and then came back into the dining-room. Before he could say a word a series of thunderous blows was rained upon the oak portal of the china EO MIE NCOLES (€@) m