Roxy Hastings — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

6 ROXY HASTINGS, “Yes, yes! lock me in, and when papa comes send him here on some pretext, and see how astonished he’ll be. Will you?” “Yes step in. Shall I lock it? It will be pitch dark in- side.” “Oh, IT don’t care. Yes, lock it in the regular way, and then hand papa the key, and tell him there is a package in there for him to take home.” “A baggage, did you say?” asked Charley Lee, looking laughingly in at the merry maiden, and then closing the heavy iron door with a clangor which resounded through the building. There was no talking through the two feet of solid iron, and if the thoughtless child regretted her rash request when the thick darkness environed her, and when she in- haled the odor of moldy and mildewed books and papers, ~~ 1t was too late to make her wishes known. Charley Lee locked the door with that tripple combina- tion lock, burglar-proof, and proof, alas! against honest men, too, if their memory fails to retain aright the num- bers upon which it is set, and the order in which those numbers occur. | The chance of regaining the clew when once lost was but one in many hundreds of thousands, and it is usual to keep the numbers written down upon a slip of paper for greater safety; but the young man had intrusted this weighty secret to a memory thronged with pleasant thoughts about his fair prisoner, and about the surprise which was to be practiced upon the expected parent. The porter, whose province it was to lock the vault, but who often delegated that duty to the tellers, had gone out, no one knew whither, and Lee, to whom he had communi- cated the mystic numbers for the current week, believed that he had remembered them aright, and that he had used them in locking up the vault. | | But no sooner was his fair prize made sure than the ter- rible fear flashed across his mind that his memory might > prove unfaithful to its great trust, and the appearance, at_ that instant, of Mr. Wilsey, the cashier, contributed far- ther to confuse his disturbed faculties. No further thought of his joke remained, but with trembling hand he applied the key to the lock, and tried in vain to remember even the first figure to which it was to be turned. “ What is the matter, Lee? Can’t you lock it?” asked the cashier, who observed the teller’s hurried, nervous movements. Gomicbooks.co