Under His Thumb — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

114 UNDER HIS THUMB. “T won’t say anything, Steve. But, about them voices you heard, I guess we’d better go over the building and see that they haven’t set fire to it any- where.’’ ‘‘Perhaps we’d better,’’ Steve assented. - They explored the entire building together, even to the counting-room, where the shadows seemed to dance and play hide-and-seek like ghostly visitants. But no sign of the midnight visitors was found. Clarence Blain had left the building, while George Dyer, the foreman, had sought refuge in his hiding- place—the location of which was so mysterious. ‘Everything is all right, I guess,’’ the watchman declared, as they returned to the stairway leading to the basement. “Then Ill leave you to look after your business alone,’’ said Steve. The boy made his exit by the same door which had afforded him entrance, the watchman locking it after him. He felt that he had learned something of import- ance, or, at least, had hit upon an incident that the detective would make useful. ‘Tf I could only have heard Dyer’s message that he whispered to Clarence, Mr. Croly would call me a brick, sure,’’ the lad mused, as he hastened along: the lonely street. A church-clock clanged the hour of three. ‘‘And I ain’t any more sleepy than an owl,” ex- claimed Steve, as he heard the measured strokes echoed from other and more distant clocks. He was nearing his lodgings, when he imagined that he saw a man come away from a door-way close by. He did not take especial note of the fact, however, comicbooks.com | y » oT a" ; ~<E © . er F ; ha oe