Laura Brayton — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

e 122 LAURA BRAYTON. Only a short distance from the house he was met by Sammy Glenn. “T say, Shorty, aren’t you the clerk for that foo- foo lawyer they call Enoch Sharp? Nathan thus addressed halted, and took a good long stare at the man who spoke to him. At last he answered: “Tf you call me Shorty, I’d like to: know where the long ones come from!” “Wouldn’t you take somethin’ if a feller asked you to?” } “Tf the court knows itself, and it thinks it does, it would, if that somethin’ was ardent!” said Nathan, eying his interlocutor quietly. “But not anywhere near here, for old Sharp's s eyes reach a long ways, I tell vou. ” “Then lead the way where you like, and I’ll pay for the drink. I’ve a little job that I-want done that you can make money by.” “Money? How much; will it all be for myself? Won’t old Sharp have none of it?” asked Nathan, speaking faster, probably, than he ever did before. “A hundred dollars, sure; maybe more, all to yourself, if you’ll do what that young gent who is coming toward us wants you to do.” “Great George Washington! One hundred dol- lars all to myself? I’ll do anything but murder, and I’d do that if it wasn’t for the hanging part like to follow. Come on; come on, Macduff, and Pll cry hold when I’ve got enough!” And with a tragic air which would have made him first clown in a circus ring, Nathan led the way into a porter-house a few paces farther on, leaving a corner belween him and a view of Sharp’s © house, comicbooks.com —