The Argosy — page 260: what you’re looking at

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

A Dark Deed. | 239 his house, but remembering that it had formerly been inhabited by a doctor, I told cabby to drive me to a house about half-way down the street which had a red lamp over the door. When I arrived the windows were all dark, the only light being that of the doctor’s lamp. E. quietly let me in, and he and I shortly after reappeared, bearing in our arms the inanimate form of Dummy, closely wrapped round with some large, ancient shawls. Remember- ing her infirmities, we bore her tenderly down the steps and up to the cab, the driver of which was watching the whole proceeding with considerable interest. ‘“* Be careful with her head,” I said to E., as we lifted her in; ‘‘it’s very nearly off.” Hereupon, cabby, with a politeness not usually met with in those of his class, stepped down from his seat and proffered his assistance. We told him, however, we did not require any, and seated her with a heavy bump, her back to the horse, and her head at the same time nearly going through the front window of the cab. In answer to his inquiries, I told him she was all right, and instructed him to drive found to my number in the next road. In a few minutes we reached the house, which was all perfectly dark. I jumped out of the cab, ran up the steps, and opened the door with my latch-key. ‘There was no light in the passage, the people of the house having all gone to bed. However, as I knew my way up those stairs pretty well, I could easily dispense with that until I got to my own room. So leaving the street door open, I ran down the steps again to the cab, and helped E. to struggle out with Our inanimate burden. Cabby once more kindly offered his aid, but I told him she was not very heavy, and the two of us could manage perfectly well. So fi. taking her under the arms, and I holding her round the knees, we carried her, creaking in her joints, up the steps, and into the passage. Thinking my friend was going to pay the cab-fare, and not wishing him to do so, I cried hastily: ‘‘ Don’t for goodness’ sake put her down in the dark, or we shall never pick her up again. And if her head drops off we shall wake all the people of the house.” Saying this, I went to the bottom of the steps where cabby was waiting for his fare. | “ What’s up with her?” he said, as I put the money into his ~ hand. ‘Neck broken,” I replied. ** Badly ?” he asked. ees, said I; “head nearly: off.” ‘What are you going to do with her?” continued cabby. ** Paint her,” I answered. “For a lark ?” said he. What he meant by that I could not stay to inquire, as considerable cConmmicooolks (CO) im