Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

134 | OLD SPECIE. jug, pushed through the door, and was gone, leav- ing Old Specie alone in the dark. He waited a few minutes to make assurance doubly sure. Then he crawled out of the barrel. Making his way to the door, he opened it, and find- ing the passage in darkness, knew Snyder must be in the den beyond. This settled it. He struck a match, found the faucet, and allow- ing the liquid to run, washed the dust out of his throat, for fear it might cause him to sneeze again, and get him into trouble. After that he was ready to leave. He did this scientifically, taking time, so as not to disturb the coal pile. Once outside, he worked away with the strong blade of his knife until he actually turned the thumbscrew again, thus fastening the door. It had been remarkably well done. He had come and gone, leaving no trace of his having been in the den. Old Specie was wonderfully well pleased with himself, for no one knew better how much luck enters into a game. Many a time had he seen his work spoiled through the freaks of fortune. | Some men are born lucky, and others rich. Of the two, the former is preferable, for riches have wings at times. Taking a last look at the house, Old Specie slipped up the street. He passed the brewery. The men were busy there, as though never sus- Eomichboo cS co 3