Detective Bob Bridger — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

170 DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. At the very moment when it seemed that both were plunging helplessly downward “Tom, the Frog,” called to Goucher for help. On the instant Bridger felt his legs strongly grasped from behind, and Goucher’s voice cried out: “Put him over to his bed, my boy Tommy !” It was evident that he thought he had hold of “Tom, the Frog’s” legs, and that it was Bridger who was holding on above the trap. It was a fortunate mistake, and gave the sleuth-hound liberty to use his right hand. Even as Goucher spoke Bridger drew from his pocket a pair of steel manacles, and making “knucklers” of them, dealt ‘Tom, the Frog’s s” hand at his neck a powerful blow. The buttons flew from the sleuth-hound’s vest, his collar burst wide, and his shirt-front ripped down, but the grasp of the burglar was broken, and he fell, bringing up with a dull thud in the dark depths beneath. “Good boy Tommy!” cried Goucher, who evidently,be- lieved that Bridger was safe at the bottom of the trap. An instant later he learned differently. Barely had he uttered the exclamation, when the sleuth- hound swung himself about on the table and seized his wrists, snapping the manacles on them as he did so. As Goucher released his hold from Bridger’s legs, the sleuth-hound pushed him forcibly back, sprang from the table, and struck a match. Kre the astounded villain could realize what had befallen him, Bridger had relit the candle, and held a cocked re- volver at his head. He glared fiercely at the detective, started back and trembled visibly. “Goucher,” said Bridger, “you have made it a plain play of life against life, and if by word, sign, or act, you refuse my will, or if you attempt to give a signal, hold back, or make one motion in any way to escape me, I’ll drop you dead on the instant !” The cowed villain looked at the sleuth hound’s deter- mined eyes, and muttered : ‘Bridger, I cave!” But Bridger knew that the man did not mean it. “Your life is in your own hands; go on!” he said, and he pushed the burly burglar toward the door. - Opening it, the sleuth-hound pointed toward the stair- way, which was lit by the rays of the candle. Goucher made no resistance, but walked slowly from the _— % -comicbooks