Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

DARKE DARRELL. 47 CHAPTER VIII. A NIGHT ALARM. Just then the door-bell was violently rung. «lhe man with the baggage,” Darke suggested, noticing the change in her face. ‘©T heard no wheels,” replied Leotine, with a shake of her head. She turned down the flame of the lamp, and crouched close to the banisters. Aunt Carlina opened the door. A man stepped into the vestibule, and the two exchanged salutations. “It is Tim Jordan,” whispered Leotine, glad that it was too dark there for her young friend to see her face. ‘* It didn’t occur to me that he might be on the same train.” ~ For a moment Darke felt nervous. «Does Tim Jordan live here?” he asked. «¢ He comes here sometimes,” Leotine whispered. ‘‘ Good- night, Darke,” catching his hand. ‘* Lock your door.” He didn’t like the suggestion. His hand closed tightly on hers. “Do not forget that I am your guest,” he significantly whispered. ‘Hear nothing,” she said; ‘‘ least of all, not me. I hate a traitress. Good-night.” He was alone in the upper hall; he heard Leotine very softly descending the back stairs, the turned-down flame of the lamp giving no more light than a glow-worm. ‘‘T don’t like that man being here,” Darke thought, as he entered the room allotted to him, and carefully fastened GOmIGcbooks (E€(0)