Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

DARKE DARRELL. 163 quite sure that his late chums were beyond the power to do him harm. ‘““Mr. Chambers,” Darke said, “I am going below. Keep an eye on the prisoners. That one,” nodding to Tim, - ‘escaped from Sing Sing. There is a reward on his head, and I shall not stand in your way about it.” ‘*No fear but what I’ll take care of them,” declared the Jerseyman, with a pugilistic strut. Darke descended into the cabin, carrying the lantern. It was a small, dingy, miserably ventilated apartment. On a sort of hammock reclined a form, which, on holding up the lantern, proved to be Leotine. Her hair was tangled; her hands were tied; there was a set, defiant look on her face, and yet she was sleeping soundly. - 'The light from the lantern streamed into her face, and awakened her. . When her eyes rested upon Darke, a glad cry of surprise broke from her lips. She attempted to lft her hands, forgetting that they were tied. ‘To see him there was so far beyond her expectation, that she almost in- vested him with supernatural power. «You here, Darke!” she gasped. ‘‘ You have come to take me away from this horrible place?” “Yes,” he said, cutting the cords which bound her. She looked at the bruised marks on her arms, then flung them around Darke’s neck, and burst out into hysterical sobs. ‘‘ How did you find meso soon?” she asked, after recover- ing her composure. “You forget that Iam gifted that way,” Darke replied, with a smile. ‘‘FRorget? No,” quickly and emphatically, ‘‘and you came at once?” «Are we not sworn friends?” asked Darke. ‘‘‘ All the way through,’ we said.” cGomicbooksco im