Detective Bob Bridger — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. _ 155 “Billy, you are a good one!” said the Scotch detective. “ And now tell us how you did it.” “Why, ’e see, Master Fandon,” simpered Billy, bowing and scraping, and pulling at the hat which he held in his hand, after the manner of a bashful schoolboy, ‘‘bang went the shot, and I sees where you is when the light goes hout, and I sees the dog comin’, and I jumps past you, and ’e comes right hin my harms. Then my foot slips, and I falls. But ’e falls hunder me hon the steps, and my knees hon ’is stomach. Then I lifts ’im by the throat and pounds 1m. hon the stairs. Then I dashes ’im round, mowin’ for the Jews’ ’eads. But they dodges me. Then I drops the dog, and reaches out, and gets ’em by the ‘klicks.’ Hand I’ad ’em ‘clicked’ hup when you struck the glim. See- ree-go! Master Fandon—see-ree-go !”’ “ Billy’s a tough crackin’, as they say here in America, eh, Bobe?” laughed the Scotch detective. ‘‘A regular corker !” assented Bridger. “And now, Bobe,” said the Scotch detective, ‘‘with your permission, I’ll bounce back for an instant to assure An- nette and Meg that matters are all well ended, and to hurry them up in readiness for their departure.” The Scotch detective speedily performed his mission, and returned, bearing a bottle of liquor, which he had obtained from Meg, to be used medicinally in the resuscitation of the injured men. “Ye can give Billy adrap of that if ye don’t moind,” cried Meg from tne door after him. ‘‘A sup or two of the stuff acts likewise medicinally on him, and makes him as ployable as a kitten. His big skin wouldn’t hold enough of it to make one of the stiff bristles on his head bend, and twinty gallons av it wouldn’t turn his brain—for nothing at allis a difficult commodity to turn. And that’s whoy the bould villain is so glad to be gettin’ back to the hotel, where the spiggot’s niver out of a barrel of the strongest buzz saw throat wash for his own special consumption.” ‘‘And is it possible, Billy, that you like this stuff?” said the Scotch detective, making a wry face at the bottle. Billy’s huge mouth spread almost from ear to ear in one elad, expectant joy-smile, and reaching for the prone: ed bottle, he remarked, as he lifted it to his lips: “See-ree- eo! Master Fandon—see-ree-go !” Meg had said that a sup or two had a medicinal effect on him, but Billy’s sups proved large ones, for he had swal- lowed down three-fourths of the bottle’s contents ere the Scotch detective could wrench it from him, gs) (ele) Be comicboo