Detective Bob Bridger — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. 171 room, Bridger holding the revolver to his head, and urging im on. When the manacled burglar and his captor had almost reached the bottom of the stair-way, a shrill whistle sounded at if from the rear of the bar-room. On the instant the hum of voices became subdued to an ominous hush. A moment later a tumult of yells, mingled with the noise of overturning chairs and tables, and hurrying feet, came from the bar. ‘“ Jack, the Fork,” had discovered that it was “Tom, the Frog,” and not the “ fly-cop” that had fallen through the trap. Goucher, the “ King of the Ken,” was known to be in dan- ger of arrest, and a rescue had been called for. Just as the sleuth-hound had forced his prisoner to the hall-way door, swung it open, and placed his revolver in his pocket, so that his hands might be free, the bar-room mob pushed forth into the rear hall-way. Goucher paused upon the threshold. Had his hands been free he would have grasped the sides of the door frame. He made_an effort to stagger and fall to gain time. Grasping his coat at the nape of the neck with_his left hand, Bridger clutched the seat of his trousers in his right, and, exerting his strength to the utmost, sent him ona Spanish run across the sidewalk and street. The cab stood at the opposite curb, its street door open, and the cabman ready to drive off. Pushing the king of the den before him, Bridger landed him at the cab’s door just as the howling mob, headed by “Jack, the Fork,” and the burly bartender, rushed upon the street. Goucher feigned to make a misstep at entering the cab, and fell forward head and shoulders upon its bottom. Seizing him by the legs, Bridger forced him heels over head within, and entering himself, bade the driver go. The cabman lashed his horses, and they bounded for- ward, the mob running after and clutching at the flying wheels. Around the corner to the next street, across that street toward the Bowery, the cab flew along, pursued by the rabble, who had-raised the cry of “stop, thief!” A policeman stood talking with a ward detective, under a corner street lamp, as the cab turned into the Bowery. Hearing the cry of “stop, thief!” and the hurrying foot- Eomilecbooks.co