The Argosy — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

So Fifty Pounds Reward. ‘Not yet, Joe! Oh, don’t say you must go yet!” ‘‘Mother, I’ve stayed too long already. They’ll be all after me sharp, now the reward’s out! Think of 4.50, mother! The men who tempted me, and got the jewels, would round on me now and get the reward.” This was it, then! But one slight wooden door stood between Clara and the thief she had said she wished she could find! Only to step round the corner. There, she knew, was the police station, and for the news she brought them she would get 450! She clasped her hands tight, and sat perfectly still, all the while knowing that every second lessened her chance of securing this living piece of property valued at £50. In her present straits, £50 seemed a fortune to her. No one who has not gone through a similar expe- rience can ever know what that temptation was to Mrs. Craven. As she sat, her strained ears caught the mother’s voice again. “‘T’ll not keep you, though my heart is breaking. My bonny boy come to this! Oh, God, most merciful, save him from a felon’s doom ! ” ‘Mother, pray forme. If I escape, I vow to lead an honest life and make a home for you. It has not been my fault. Pray God to forgive and help me.” | Clara’s grasp of her hands relaxed. ‘Then with white face, and sorrowful eyes, she stood up and looked at her two tiny sleeping boys. Then on her knees she fell, and stayed in earnest prayer until she heard the stealthy footsteps creep down the stairs, and the front door closed : and then she stole to the window of her darkened room, and looking out into the lamp-lit street, watched a quick walking figure in an old country woman’s cloak with a deep cape, and a large poke bonnet, such as her old neighbour always wore: and she knew that the young man had escaped in his mother’s clothes. Il. ONE of the most old-fashioned houses in an old country town was Miss Greybrook’s. A steep flight of immaculately clean steps led from the pavement of the High Street to her hall door with its shining brass knocker and bell-handle. On each side of this hall door was a large bow-window, just high enough to make it inconvenient for any one to offer to shake hands with Miss Greybrook when they were in the street and she was tending her flowers in the window. At the back of the broad hall that went straight across the house there were steps leading down into large, well-kept gardens, and these were enclosed by a substantial brick wall that effectually protected the fruit and flowers from pilfering fingers: Inside the house everything was expressive of wealth and solid comfort. Miss Greybrook herself was regarded by the towns-folk as peculiar, but her peculiarity being accompanied by riches, she was never made to feel it unpleasantly. In person she was tall and angular, and a pair of piercing black eyes that shone out in vivid m GEomichbooks.co