Detective Bob Bridger — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

220 DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. claimed. ‘‘Oh, if I vas a man, you miserable, old rat, you! I'd fire you out by de street sO quick I get my hands on you! Bah, vid you—you—you—” And, indelicate though it may seem to recount it, Rachel spat directly i in Sammy’s face. Had he set off an unsuspected bomb-shell beneath his feet poor Sammy could not have been more astonished than he was at the result of freeing Rachel’s tongue. His cries suddenly ceased, and his tears dried in the corners of his staring eyes. “Vy, Rachel,” he said, meekly, “I come to tell you dot poor Moses—your fadder, Rachel—vas hung up down de stairs by de tiefs !” ‘‘T vouldn’t care he vas fired out from a cannon Ys cried Rachel. “Vy, Rachel, vot you say?” muttered Sammy, the breath almost departing from his body in his astonishment. “T say,” shrieked Rachel, ‘‘ you could see I vas tied down by dis bed. And I vant you to go by dat cupboard, take de butcher-knife, and cut me quick loose, or I vould cut your throat vid it.” Sammy shambled mechanically toward the cupboard, and secured the knife. “Now mind your eye you don’t cut nothing but de ropes,” instructed Rachel, in a milder tone. “ Put de knife inside, and pull it out against de rope toward you.” Sammy began to use the knife carefully, as Rachel directed. Rachel’s sudden outburst of indignation had been as unusual in its way as the more dreadful surprise that had ereeted the distracted brother of Moses below. To a degree it had served to swing back his senses to a proper equilibrium. si At all events, Sammy made no mistake in the use of the nife. A half dozen cautious severings of the rope, and Rachel’s limbs were freed. Swinging herself from the bed, she assumed a sitting posture upon its edge. “Oh, Rachel! Rachel!” began Sammy, as the great grief again pressed upon his brain, and his tears burst forth afresh, “did you know it—could you believe it? Your poor old fadder, Moses, vas dead.” “Yes, and I vas near dead, too,” moaned Rachel, rubbing her hands together and pressing her limbs. ‘I vas dead asleep all over.” 4 Gomicbooks.com >