Under His Thumb — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

— 116 UNDER HIS THUMB. The boy asked no questions, but kept an eye upon their course, for he had heard no order given the driver. They soon entered Fifth avenue, and presently drew up before one of the older but still elegant mansions near the lower end of that fashionable thoroughfare, ‘““We’ll go in here, I guess, ’? said the officer, sath ing the boy from the carriage and roughly hustling him up to the entrance. A ring brought a quick response. It was Mr. Blain himself who opened the door, and curtly said: . ‘Come in, Steve,’? and to the policeman, ‘All right, my man, you may go.’’ In another moment the bewildered boy found him- self in a large, dimly-lighted room. Mr. Blain stood before him, gazing sternly down into his face. ‘“‘T wanted to talk with you,” he declared. ‘All right, sir—only half-past three in the mornin’ is a queer hour to be sent for in 1 this way, Steve re- turned. ‘It seems you had not BONE to bed, if it is a queer hour.’’ : : ‘‘T had not, sir.”’ “You were out upon the street?’ ‘I was.’’ ‘“What were you doing?” ‘‘Unlocking the door to my lodgin’s.”’ ‘“‘T meant, what have you been doing on the street — until this hour of the morning?”’ “Wasn’t on the street all the time.”’ Mr. Blain seized the lad’s ; arm, and shook him im- patiently. ‘Answer me civilly,’ he exclaimed. €Comicbooks.com