Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

56 OLD SPECIE. — “Oh! no.”’ “What, then?’’ ‘“T reckon it’s a spring lock. I heard a snap when ye pushed it shut.’ ‘‘One’s as bad as the other. ’’ “Not much.’’ “How can we remedy it?’’ “Get out o’ here.’’ ‘““T don’t see——’’ ‘You hold this here bundle.’’ ‘Put it down on the floor.’’ ‘Well, ight up that candle agin.’’ So the candle had to be relighted, and once more the gloomy interior of the tomb was iluminated. Old Specie bent over to examine the lock. He knew all about locks, and might have set up in business as a locksmith. ‘‘Look here, ye see the key’s thar yet.”’ “Well?’’ | “Tf some-one had locked us in he’d a removed the key, don’t ye see.’”’ ““T guess ye’re right, Caddy.” “Well, the only thing to be done under the pres- ent circumstances is to turn that key.” “By putting yer arm through the door, eh?’’ sar- castically asked Ben. Oh, no. Thar’s better ways than. that, if ye’ll stop to consider, comrade. An’ again, I allers go | prepared for emergencies, because they make up about half o’ life.’’ As he spoke he took from one of his pockets a small but powerful pair of nippers. Fastened upon any round object, their jaws were so fashioned that they would not let go, comicbooks (E(0)