Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 190: what you’re looking at

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

182 OLD SPECIE. The baffled adventurer is roused into something like life by their coming. He gives the man only a passing glance, but his eyes rest eagerly on the fair face of the girl. “Yes, it is Amy, alive and well. I thank kind Heaven that in my downfall I do not have her death on my hands. I have been engaged in-many ques- tionable enterprises in my time, but I have never taken life. That much is spared me. Forgive me, girl. My love for power and money ran away with my better nature. You will not see me again, so do not cherish hard feelings. A man who is crushed as I am deserves some pity.”’ This from the proud man who had lorded it these years as Lawrence Caldwell—it proves how utterly he has fallen. | He appears to take it philosophically now, and the detective begins to believe he means to make no fur- ther trouble. | Here he errs—any one may do that. The man’s mind is made up, and he plays his cards skillfully with that one ultimate end in view—self-destruc- tion. CHAPTER XXV. THE END OF THE TRAIL, Amy says nothing to the man who has been de- feated in his plots against her life, but her gentle nature is averse to hatred, and the look upon. her face tells that she does not cherish ill feelings toward August Delmar. _ In his role of her uncle he has always treated her with consideration—perhaps because he lived in =| Eomicbooks co