The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 1 — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

DOLLY GRAY. 185 ‘“ What do you want ?’’ asked the well known voice of the hoodlum. ‘‘Go out and see where those boys are. ‘They have been gone over an hour ; but don’t bring them in till I tell you,’’ added the first speaker ; and Andy concluded that he was Poddy. Nothing more was said, and it was plain that Tom left the grotto to obey the order of the chief. But Andy heard other sounds, and he gave his attention to them. He was sure the noise was nearer than the interior of the cave, which he now knew was above him, but farther than his own grotto from the lake. The sound was that of something descending the crooked shaft which led. tothe top of the hill. He looked in vain for a sight of anything, for the tortuous passage did not enable his vision to reach more than six feet. He was alarmed, for Poddy might be descending the crooked passage. He took out his revolver, and prepared it for use. : The moving body, whatever it was, bumped from side to side in its descent, but it came nearer the water cave every moment. It was not aman, and Andy put up his weapon. He was afraid to light another match lest the glare of it should be seen by the bank robber above. The object struck the rough platform. ‘Then it was jerked up and down several times, and the observer could faintly discern a dark body, floundering about like a live animal. When it ceased to move Andy put his hand on it. It was a large travel- ing bag. It was very heavy, and his heart bounded when he realized that it contained the money of which the two banks had been rifled. Oliver Optic. (TO BE CONTINUED. ) DOLLY GRAY. Twas a winding woodland way Where I met you, Dolly Gray, And you passed me with a glance Of your hazel eyes askance, But you never blushed nor turned, While the heart within me burned, Oh! you knew not how I yearned, Dolly Gray ! Just a year ago, today, Since I met you, Dolly Gray ; And the slightest word I speak Paints a rose upon your cheek, As we wonder ’neath the shade Of the winding woodland glade. What a change a year has made, Dolly Gray ! James Buckham. eonichooks (S@)