Marion Marlowe's Skill, or, A Week as a Private Detective — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

Marion looked at her check-book, which lay open before her, and then glanced invol- untarily at the murderous pistol. Better do it,” grinned the man, as he no- - ticed her look. ag’inst Terence O'Connell !” “But you cannot cash my checks,” “Dere’s no use a buckin’ said - m earion, hopelessly. “You will be arrested at the bank for trying to cash them.” € “Not if ye O. K. ther sig’s, as I intend ye shall,” said the man, dryly. “So, come, git er move on ye, I’m gittin’ tired of all dis _ talkin’ !” Once more he hitched his chair nearer, a gripping the pistol tighter and putting one finger menacingly on the trigger. Marion set her teeth hard and made her - last play for time. “But I'll stop the payment on them the “SO you — minute I get out,” she said, quickly. - you'll not get the money after all, wicked fellow!” At this _ laughter, the woman born in with a vicious remark the man roared with _ snicker. “Sure, take O'Connell for such a fool as dat, does ye, _ miss?” he asked. ~ stayin’ now, ye doesn’t Terence “Wot’s de matter wid yer in dis room fer awhile, jest long _ enough say, fer Liz an’ me ter skip ther | town: as _ Marion shuddered with horror at the awful tecsticns, for who knew how long she _ would have to remain there a prisoner. “Quick, give me the book!’ she cried, in _ agony. 4 As she leaned over the table, Liz O’Con- nell put a pen between her fingers. A moment later the woman disappeared into the inner room. She had gone to make 4 teady for their flight from the building. As Marion began to write Terence O’Con- hell laid his weapon down upon the table. e ‘le leaned over in her direction and watched a > ee MY QUEEN. 25 each word as she wrote it, and so eager was he to see the check properly made out that just for one second he forgot the pistol. It was the second that Marion had been waiting for, and she was quick to improve it. Like a flash of lightning she made a grab for the weapon, and the next thing Terence O’Connell know he was looking down the barrel of his own weapon. Marion had sprung far enough away to cover him safely, and the man, big and burly as he was, could not move a muscle. CHAPTER XIV. THE RESCUE, As soon as Marion saw her advantage she In that crowded rookery it did not seem possible that began screaming loudly for help. it could be long before some one would hear her. Liz O’Connell stuck her head out of the inner door, which happened to be exactly be- hind her brother, and directly in 1 the range of Marion’s pistol. “Another step, and I will fire!’ cried Marion, firmly; then once more her voice rang out in a cry for assistance. Terence O'Connell sat there like a beaten cur. His face was livid, and his eyes fairly bulging. More than once he attempted to rise from his chair, but Marion’s command to “sit down” was always obeved instantly. After moments of suspense, there came a heavy step on the stairs; then Marion dis- tinctly heard the sound of crutches. In an instant, Terence O'Connell fell in a heap to his knees and began begging Marion not to be too hard on him. Liz O’Connell, crouching like a tiger. on the contrary, stood A moment’s lowering of the weapon, and she would have been at Marion’s throat. She was not half so much of a coward as her brutal] brother. So(CO) COMICELOOO©