Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

DARKE DARRELL. 33 He went to the trunk, upon the top of which the instru- ment still remained. ‘<T’ll first send a dispatch to Mr. Marks,” reasoned Darke. . «<The accident is bulletined by this time, and mother will _be alarmed.” No sooner thought of than done. Then he loosened the connecting wires, coiled them up, and carried the instru- ment and appliances to the express car. When he returned the girl was not in sight. Presently he saw her seated under a tree, her elbows resting on her knees, and her chin in the palms of her hands. She was watching the workmen clearing away the wreck with lifting-jacks, iron bars, blocks of wood, &c. Darke seated himself beside her. « You haven’t told me your name,” he said. She was so long in answering that he thought she had not heard him. ‘*No, I haven’t. It is Leotine Cassandra,” still watch- ing the wreckers at work. A long silence. «<Can’t we go on until all that stuff is cleared away?” she asked. ‘“No,” rejoined Darke. ‘‘ They are making rapid pro- oress, though.” “Do you think so?” looking at him out of the corners of her eyes. ‘‘ Maybe they are. Did you know my father? Were you tracking him?” the expression coming into her eyes which he had noticed once before. “No,” answered Darke. ‘I was playing ‘bluff.’ He is not your father.” She could not repress a start. ‘‘ How do you know?” Darke merely laughed. «‘T am afraid of you,” she said, half playfully, hi half earn ebooks (E(0)