Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

“owe, 80 OLD SPECIE. | CHAPTER XI. THE GRAVE-DIGGER’S COTTAGE. Ben was willing. He had been beaten at his own game by the man picked up to be his comrade, for the fellow, truth to tell, had summoned up courage enough to come back with the intention of saving Amy and getting a secret hold on the man he called the ‘‘captain,’’ and not at all to recover his key, which in fact he did not know was missing until he saw it protruding from the lock in the door. Once more the screws were hunted up and fas- tened in the now empty coffin. Strange scenes, indeed, this old sepulcher had wit- nessed within the last twelve hours—scenes that were almost enough to make the spirits of the old Dutch burghers, who for centuries, perhaps, had slept sealed up in the oven, like holes in the wall at the end of the tomb, appear upon the stage to protest against the desecration of a sacred place. At last all was done. | This time Ben made sure of the screw-driver, and when he got outside took the key ere he slammed the door shut. No traces of their visit were left. They began to skirt the side of the hill, aiming for that friendly hole in the hedge. . “‘Careful, man,’’ warned the detective. “What now?’’ | ‘“‘Tsee some persons moving over yonder. We don’t want to be discovered. There, reckon them trees ll hide “em. Come on now.’’ \ Comicbooks com