Under His Thumb — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

UNDER HIS THUMB. 61 that chap, too,’”’ Croly said to himself, gazing after the retreating figure. He paused quite near No. 37, and glanced up at the shuttered windows. It was an old dilapidated building of dingy brick. “Stella took her father in there to hide him from the cops,’’ was the detective’s mental decision. ‘‘And when it gets later they will come out again, and I shall have them all nice and snug. If 1 goin now to look for them they BY give me the slip. It will pay me to wait outside.’ In accordance with this reflection, Croly took up a position in a deserted door- -way opposite. For an hour-he patiently waited, feeling perfectly confident that his patience would be rewarded. And he was not disappointed. The door of No. 37 opened softly, and a man came forth—alone. Croly thought at first that it was a stranger. But his vision was too keen to be easily deceived. It was Carl Brandon who had come forth, changed only by the combing of his tangled hair and beard, adding to the air of respectability which belonged to him by nature. It was the gentle hand of his faithful daughter that had wrought this change in his looks, beyond a doubt. “That girl is a trump, and no mistake!’’ Croly ex- claimed, half aloud. ‘‘But where is she? Going to wait until he gets to a place of safety, it is likely. Well, | must have a word with him before he gives me the slip.’’ The detective started to cross the street. Even as he did so, however, Carl Brandon darted around an adjacent corner with unlooked for agility. (e(oyayiel oxoyoy <S co mn