Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

. OLD SPECIE. | 41 What next? A hand clutched the detective’s arm. ‘‘Come along, comrade.”’ They moved straight for the light. Old Specie could tell that his companion was grop- ing ahead so that he might not run into a newel post at the foot of the stairs, or some other obstacle he believed to be at hand. Thus moving along they reached a door. Ben’s hand groped along the face of this until he found the knob. Then he deliberately opened it. A library lay beyond. At a glance Old Specie saw this, and also the fact that the room had an occupant. He guessed at once that the object of their mid- night visit was not burglary, since burglars do not make it a point to enter rooms where people are sit- ting up waiting for them. This was the case here. The party who sat in a chair raised his head at their entrance. It was a man. Somehow, at sight of him, the detective experi- enced a strange sensation. Possibly he had seen the man before. In figure the gentleman was tall and slender, but his body was that of an athlete. He possessed keen eyes that seemed to pierce one through and through. His face was smoothly shaven, all but the upper lip, which carried a dark mustache. Ben Bolt walked straight up to him and held out his hand. . “On deck, captain. Ain’t it time?”’ “You are punctual, Ben, Who is this?’ comicboo €o cS a)