Under His Thumb — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

UNDER HIS THUMB. | 21 CHAPTER III. THE DETECTIVE’S STRANGE CLEW. Croly, the detective, did not stay to hear the re- port of the policemen who had failed in their at- tempt to overtake George Dyer. He hastened out upon the street, quickly walked to the elevated railway station at the Bowery and Canal street, took the first train, and, a little later, alighted at East Forty-seventh street. His private rooms were close by, and he went to them directly. Opening from his chamber was a small room, lit- tle larger than a closet, the door of which he kept constantly locked. The room had no window, and his first act upon entering was to light the gas. Then he closed the door and seated himself at a table. The room was fitted up with shelves. These, as well as the table, were laden with an indescribable _ jumble of curiosities. There were odd-shaped knives, murderous-looking dirks, pistols of all sizes and shapes, a fragment of a dynamite bomb, several burglars’ tools, and va- rious other implements taken from criminals or pre- served as clews to unsolved mysteries. On the table was an open scrap-book, in which were pasted portraits and sketches of numerous criminals, clipped from the newspapers. There were also several labeled vials containing liquids and powders. Ina glass jar, floating in alcohol, was a severed finger—a clew to a crime recently solved by this wonderful detective, 3 Ecomicbooks €oO nN