Under His Thumb — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

— UNDER HIS THUMB. 9 police station, and Steve Lawton, the young appren- tice. was at the other end of the wire. He had searce sounded the signal before his arm | was seized and an angry voice demanded: “Why did:-you do that?”’ The speaker was Dyer, the young foreman, and | his voice was full of anger. “lo call the cops, of course,’ Steve returned, a flash of defiance in his small, dark eyes. “What have the police to do with a case of this kind? Mr. Waldron committed suicide, and——’’ Steve interrupted, in a tone of conviction: | ‘It ain’t a suicide, George Dyer, and you know it.”’ “What do you mean?” Dyer retorted. “It is a murder.” ‘““Why do you think so?” The lad pointed to the open window, and replied: ‘’Cause that is never opened at this time of day, you know. Somebody shot Mr. Waldron, and then jumped out into the court. I can show where he struck.’’ Steve drew the young man toward the window. As he drew near the latter, he saw something upon the white sash that caused him to ejaculate: “What do you think of that? Guess I know some- thin’, if I don’t happen to be boss over a lot of type- stickers.’’ George Dyer, for the first time, exhibited intense excitement. He was rather apathetic by nature, and those who knew him were wont to remark that an earthquake wouldn’t make him change color. “You’re right, Steve!’’ he exclaimed, in a low, husky tone. ‘‘It is a murder, and a bold one at that. It seems as though it would be easy to catch the culprit, though.’’ ‘Ss mn Eomicboo €oO